Forget-Me-Not (dreamxreader)

54 || Great and Sudden Change || Part 2

TW: SWEARING, YELLING, SWEARING, TRAUMA, PHYSICAL AND VERBAL ABUSE, DEALING WITH ABUSERS, MENTIONS OF DRUGS, BLOOD, ANXIETY ATTACK TRAITS, SEVERE SHOCK, ILLNESS TRIGGERED BY MENTAL STRESS, COUGHING

Also, this chapter is quite long so grab the popcorn and strap in your seatbelts :D

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~~~ Tommy's P.O.V ~~~~
I groan staring up at Fundy's stupid scowl. He taps his foot with his arms crossed, orange tail flicking angrily behind him. Summer had decided to kick in today, and it was possibly the worst fucking time too. The heat clung to the outer walls of the white tent, radiating to the inside and making me feel sticky and gross. 

I had to lug my big heavy red paint cans all the way from my house to L'Manburg. Even worse, I had to drag it around for an extra half-hour when I couldn't find the tent I was looking for. They all fucking look the same, white and made of some kind of rough tarp material. Just some were larger than others.

It didn't help that these fucking butterflies hadn't left me alone. The heat brought them out in droves, they followed me all the way here. Some even hitched a ride on the back of my shirt or in my hair or on my arms or just any part of my body that was available to them. It didn't matter how much I tried to swat them off, they were persistent little bitches.

"Tommy, surely you're smart enough to know that painting the gapples red is a complete waste of time!" I zone back in just as Fundy finishes his lecture. He really was stupid, my plan is perfect. 

"But Fundy!" I sigh putting on my most persuasive voice. "I'm not just bloody painting the gapples! I'm disguising them like little baby chameleons in the forest and shit. They're more stealthy this way, and anyway, the colour is better," I smirk and grab another that I had yet to paint but frown when I notice the butterfly sitting on it. 

The bastards were all over the tent. I had been eating the gapples whilst I was painting, and I suppose the butterflies wanted some because they've nearly covered the whole crate with their colourful wings. I brush the butterfly off the shiny golden surface and watch it flutter away and land on a painted apple. I frown as it flutters off my perfectly coloured red apple and onto a gold one. If they were going to be a pain in my ass they could at least be on my side with this. 

"How is it stealthier?" Fundy exclaims and I feel like I'm going to pull all my hair out. 

"You are so fucking stupid! They look like normal apples when they're red, idiot!" I flick my paintbrush as I speak causing me to swear as more flecks of red paint land on my shirt. It was a good colour, but I don't want to wear it on my favourite cardigan. 

"Maybe I should have worn an apron," I mumble to myself. 

"They are not stealthier!" He sticks a foul finger at the crate, specifically at the apples I had painted. 

I hadn't gotten to all of them yet. Some of them were red, others were red with gold patches from when I was running low on paint earlier and others were still gold. 

"Don't look until I'm finished," I say whacking his hand away. 

"They're not properly painted, Tommy! And that doesn't matter anyway because we can't eat paint!" I roll my eyes at his stupidity. Sometimes I wonder if he's really my nephew. 

"Of course, we can still eat them. You just put one in your mouth and-"

I drop the paintbrush and unpainted apple to clutch my hands over my ears as a monstrous ringing storms through L'Manburg. I notice Fundy clutching his ears too as the bell rings monotonously, over and over and over and over. The high pitched ringing in my ears makes me tear up as I battle away persistent memories of wailing, blood, and fire.