Hello. Whatâs up? Itâs me. Anonymous. Youâre good old pal (okay Iâll stop). The Josh drum lesson fic was so cute btw! Gosh I wish I had writing talent. Btw, Iâm not sure if you want me to pick an emoji to identify as or if you will pick it, but feel free to assign me one if you want.
SoâŚâŚâŚI had another requestâŚâŚâŚbut itâs Tyler this timeâŚ..kinda.
Could you do a angsty one shot from when Clancy is in Dema and is forced to make propaganda (Scaled and Icy era. Look, I like Tyler with pink hair okay). He meets the reader (how? Itâs up to you. Makeup artist, manager of some sort, etc.). They bond, he tells her in secret about life outside the walls and stuff and sort of gets her on the Banditoâs side. After he escapes (as seen in Saturday), she expects him to somehow get in contact with her again and help her escape Dema, but he never does.
You could end it there or maybe flash forward to the events of Paladin Strait and do something with that, itâs up to you. Thanks for always taking my silly ideas to the next level and making me smile with your work.
Number 16 Cotton Candy - Clancy x Reader
Relationship: Tyler Joseph/Clancy Ă Fem!Reader
Warnings: Violence, anything related to Dema or the Trench story that's generally triggering
Word Count: 1813 (itâs a big one!)
Summary: Check the request!
A/N: Iâll give you the đ emoji for the yellow banditos! And youâre definitely not alone anon, I freaking love pink hair Tyler (I have a whole pinterest board section dedicated to SAI and Tyâs pink hair) :)
Iâd never expected to be working on âGood Day Demaâ. My family had a long history with the bishops, working for them that is. I remember when the letter came, asking me to be the talent manager for the next season. This ranged from making sure makeup and hair was done to keeping talent company before the show. Except, they didnât tell me the talent was Clancy, the Clancy. Weâd spent a couple days together, me running him through the show, him not saying a single word but listening to all instructions. Heâd learnt the choreography, every step and change for the show, but not spoken a single word to anyone but the bishops when asked. I was escorted to a light blue door in the hallway of the soundstage building.Â
âHeâs in there. Youâll be dying his hair number 16 cotton candy and ensuring heâs ready to film,â one of the assistants said.Â
âThanks,â I smiled sheepishly before walking inside and closing the door. Clancy sat in the corner of the room, his blank eyes staring me down. I nodded over to the chair. He rose to his feet, quietly wandered over and sat in front of me. Iâd heard things about him, how heâd escaped into Trench, and was dragged back here. Iâd also listened to the new album âScaled and Icyâ, a complete 360 from the themes of his lettersânot that we were allowed to be reading them.Â
âIt looks like theyâre wanting number 16 Cotton Candy. Weâll have to bleach it,â I said, grabbing the bleach and color from the cabinet, âYou good with that?â His eyes darted up to me.Â
âYouâre asking me?â he asked, his brows furrowed. His voice sounded exactly how it did on the record, except tired. I tried to hide my surprise that heâd responded at all. I nodded.Â
âOf course I am. Itâs your hair.â Deep down I knew I shouldnât have been talking to him like this. I was being paid to ensure he looked exactly how the bishops wanted him to, not asking his opinion.Â
âWhy donât you just do your job and we can both get this over with?â he spoke with sarcasm dripping from each word. I nodded and got to work with the bleach. The room was quiet except for the radio which was playing SAI on repeatâit was up to Shy Away.Â
âIâm sorry about what youâve had to go through,â I mumbled, completely unsure if I was overstepping a boundary.Â
âThatâs the price of attempting to escape,â he shrugged and I nodded knowingly. âHave you ever dyed your hair?â he asked, watching me place the foils on his head.Â
âOnce before. It was a hotter pink, back when we were still allowed to have coloured hair. Do you remember that?â
He nodded. âYeah I do. My friends were the reason they banned it. They dyed it yellow.â Everyone in Dema knew yellow was a color of rebellion, the color of the banditos (if you even believed in them). Wearing it was almost an instant detainment, or worse.Â
âAh, I remember that,â I smiled softly, remembering the story on the news. âSo the bleach is going to take about 30 minutes and then we can do the color. Iâll stay here though, thereâs not much for me to do.â The song on the radio switched to Never Take It. âIt must be weird to hear your own voice on the radio,â I commented, glad that I was a manager rather than a talent. Â
âYeah, it kinda is. Especially since itâs full of the bishopsâ propaganda rather than my own thoughts.â I had a feeling the changes in theme were related to the bishops. âItâs hard to be creative when theyâve got you locked up and use you for entertainment.â The sigh that escaped his chapped lips revealed a level of exhaustion only he knew.Â
âYour letters are so different from this,â I spoke, knowing Iâd crossed a line and couldnât go back. He turned around to face me, a confused look on his face.
âYouâve read my letters? How? Theyâre not allowed in the city.â
âThey passed by me when they were first here.â The letters were initially spread from house to house before the bishops found and burned them all.Â
âAnd⌠what did you think?â I couldnât tell why he was asking this. What his intentions were. But I could tell he was trying to piece something together.Â
âYou have a lot to say about our lives here,â I paused before adding, âand Trench. It didnât end well for you to end up here though.âÂ
âThatâs because I believe everyone deserves to know the truth, whether or not Iâm taken back here and used for propaganda is irrelevant. People need to know the truth.â He was ambitious, Iâd give him that. I removed the foils and washed his hair before starting with the pink. I grabbed some gloves, mixed the color and started applying it evenly. âYou know, youâre pretty for a Dema girl,â he remarked.Â
âDoes that mean bandito girls are prettier?â I laughed. He shrugged, clearly showing his perspective. âIâm surprised youâve still got a sense of humor after everything youâve been through.â His face dropped slightly at that. It was clear that despite being held in a prisonersâ cell this whole time he still had the spark that made him Clancy. It had to be hard but he still had it.Â
âI mean it Y/N, youâre pretty⌠but you should try to leave this place. Out there in Trench everything is different. The colors, the freedom, the creativity. Youâll never want to come back.â His eyes were full of hope. It was clear he was the right person to lead the rebellion.Â
âIâI canât⌠Iâve got a life here, Clancy,â I sighed. I wanted to, I did. But if he was caught and sent back here then there was no chance Iâd even make it out of the walls. He nodded knowingly.Â
âI understand. Just know there is always a place for you at the camp.â I finished up his color, washed the dye off in the sink, and styled it for the show. We continued talking about Trench and the banditos, what life was like out there. I reminded him that the bishops wanted a performance for the annual assemblage, slightly disappointed that I hadnât been invited to manage him. Once his hair was finished and makeup done I turned the chair around. A soft smile grew on his face.Â
âI like it. Thank you,â he got up and pulled me in an embrace. His hair smelt of the shampoo Iâd used, vanilla.Â
âYouâre welcome. Iâve got your jacket over here,â I reached to the side and picked it up, the brown fabric soft against my hands. He turned around as I helped him into it. What he did next surprised me. His hands reached up to cup my face. His forehead leant against mine, a few tears escaping his eyes before turning into sobs, his face scrunching up. âHey, hey, youâre okay,â I hushed, trying to calm him down.Â
âIâm scared Y/N,â he stuttered. His eyes darted left and right, searching for something. I tried my best to reassure him that it was okay.Â
âYou donât need to be,â I lied. He had every right to be scared. At any minute the bishops could kill and seize his vessel. It was then that I made the decision to kiss him. It was a quick kiss, an unsure one.Â
âOh so now you decide to do that,â he chuckled before pulling me close and walking us back till we hit the wall. Our bodies pressed together, breathing heavily as our lips danced. I could feel the thud of his heartbeat, terrified of the consequences if we were caught. The song on the radio switched to Redecorate, my favorite on the record. I ran my fingers through his coloured hair before pulling away.Â
âYouâre going to get called on soon,â I said, knowing that Iâd likely never seen him again after today.Â
âOk,â he nodded. âI need you to know that this,â he gestured between us, âwasnât just for the sake of today. I like you Y/N, thereâs something special about you.â There was a loud knock on the door and we stepped away from each other.Â
âAre you nearly done in there?â the assistant's voice chirped from outside.Â
âYep, we need about 10 more minutes and heâll be ready to perform!â I shouted back. I could hear her footsteps leave.Â
âI like you too, Clancy,â I hummed, once I knew we were alone again.Â
âIf I ever get out, just know Iâll come back for you. I promise, Iâll get you out,â he vowed. I embraced him and pressed my lips to his one last time before escorting him out to the soundstage.Â
âGood luck out there,â I tried desperately to not cry, saying goodbye for the last time.Â
Two years later the bishops had released a search notice for Clancy. The submarine that the annual assemblage had been held on sank due to âan unknown number of errors on board.â It took everything in me not to believe he was dead. The bishops insisted he wasnât and what would they gain from lying about their enemyâs death? I was sure he would reach out, tell me he was okay, but it was radio silence. Iâd removed myself from Good Day Demaâs set and spent all my time in my room. It was the same thing every day, work. Working to please the bishops and brainwash the entire city that Vialism was the only way. Except for one night, exactly one year after the notice was issued, three years since Iâd heard anything from Clancy. I was reading through a new manuscript for the show and making notes for the new episode. The air in the room went still, I wasnât alone. A man with curly brown hair with the underside dyed red stood by the door. He was wearing a black vest and a bandana with âtorchbearerâ written on it. It had scared the shit out of me.
âI know you,â I stood up, âyouâre Clancyâs friend.â
âIndeed I am,â his expression remained blank, a calm and stoic leaderâexactly how Clancy had described him. I couldnât decide whether to hug him or kill him.
Torchbearer nodded. A wave of relief flooded over me.
âWe request your presence at the town hall tonight. Please do your best to come. I was directly asked to ensure you attend.â
I was going to see him. Clancy had survived. He was coming back. Coming back for me. I was getting out of here. I was going to get to hold him again.
Except it wasnât him. Heâd seized a boy and pretended to be there. Clancy wasnât even in Trench.
Hope you liked it đ! Iâm definitely open to writing a part two but not sure where it would go⌠keep requesting tho bc ur requests brighten my day!
