willowpillowbillow

[willowpillowbillow]

Jean gets a haircut

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. The birds were chirping. All was well in the world. Jean was sitting on the balcony of his home. Gazing down upon the bodies in the streets roaming, appearing like ants from his vantage point. His dirty blonde hair being swept in the wind around his face like the mane of a lion. Or… a horse.

Footsteps became slowly apparent from behind him, the quiet plodding of several sets of boots approaching at a steady pace. He turned, hair blustering in the wind, and saw none other than his dear friends. Connie Springer, Reiner Braun, Pieck Finger, and his dear wife Mikasa. And Pieck was holding… scissors?? No. Who let her do that?

“Jean, I think you know why we’re here.” Connie said. His expression was dire. They all looked prepped for a battle, like their very livelihoods were about to be put on the line.

“No.” Jean said, the gears in his brain churning to try and realize what they were about to do. A piece of hair brushed across his cheek, and suddenly his heart skipped a beat. The group. The scissors. Pieck’s… hungry gaze. This was about to be a slaughter. He stood bolt upright from his sitting position, knocking down the chair he had been seated in so peacefully just moments before. “No!” he cried, “You can’t do this!”

They had cornered him. There was nowhere to go except through them, or down. Reiner took a step forward, reaching a hand forward as if in a show of peace. “We’re not going to hurt you, Jean. Just calm down.”

“I’m not going to calm down! Do I look like somebody who would calm down? You get those scissors away from me!” he spat, taking a step away from Reiner’s imposing form. The low of his back hit the railing of the balcony and he firmly grasped it, knuckles paling. The lot of them inched closer, Pieck in front, sunlight gleaming off the blades of the scissors. 

“It’s for your own good, Jean.” Mikasa said, her expression apathetic as ever. “You need to get rid of the mullet.”

“Get away from me!” Jean lashed an arm out to ward his so-called friends away from him, but Reiner took the opportunity to grab him by the forearm and pin it down to the railing.

“Connie, quick- get his other arm!” he snarled, and Connie jumped to the task. Within seconds he was trapped, struggling helplessly against the confines of their grips while Pieck approached slowly, scissors snipping in the air, the soft shhhing of the metal ringing through the air even over the sound of his labored breathing.

He thrashed to no avail. He kicked out, trying to keep Pieck far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to come close to his luscious locks with that terrible, terrible tool. They locked eyes and Jean knew in that moment, staring into her hardened gaze that there was no hope for him. 

“Why… why are you doing this?” he pleaded, his chest heaving with each breath he took. His hair was his livelihood, they couldn’t just strip him of it like this. He craned his head back as far as his neck would allow, watching on in horror as the scissors grew closer and closer to his face.

“We’ve had enough. You look like a dirty mop. A sad, dirty mop that’s been cleaning floors for decades and hasn’t been replaced.” Pieck murmured in her low tone. Jean felt a crack in his heart. No… it couldn’t be. Did his friends truly think his haircut was that bad? He thought he had tamed it so well. Thought it was so, so cool and epic… even Mikasa had married him while he donned this quintessential quaff, this charismatic coiffure, this heroic hairdo. And they wanted to get rid of it? This was betrayal of the highest caliber. 

“No- No! How could you do this!? NOOOOO-” Jean sobbed as Pieck finally made contact, the steel scissors sliding between the silky smooth sections of his hair that he had combed so beautifully that morning, and could only watch in horror as she squeezed the handle and with one sharp snip, a chunk of his hair was gone.

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed the first of the fallen. The chunk of hair fell to the ground in a silent plop that caused all of them to stare in shock for a moment, as if they hadn’t expected this to actually happen. All Jean could hear was the pounding of his heart, and Reiner’s and Connie’s grips on him only tightened as he thrashed in agony while Pieck continued the slaughter.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay, Jean.” Connie comforted, his head turned away like watching his hair fall to the ground was as painful for him as it was for Jean. But it couldn’t be… he wouldn’t understand. Especially not with that haircut. 

“You’re monsters! All of you!” Jean cried as another chunk was torn from his grasp, freely cut strands flying through the air on a breeze like the tufts of a dandelion. 

This massacre went on for several gut wrenching minutes, and by the end, they were exhausted. Tears threatened at the corners of Jean’s eyes, gleaming on his face in the mid-afternoon sun. The once comforting swath of hair that stretched down the back of his neck now left bare and cold. Tufts of short, scraggly hairs jutted from his hairline instead of the lengthy bang he was once able to sweep over his ear. Long gone were the locks that would whip through the wind like the sound of freedom. Now it was… short. He felt naked.

“Let him go. He’s suffered enough.” Mikasa said, and Jean was freed from the grasp of his once trusted comrades. He dropped to his knees and ran his hands through his jagged ends, finding that what remained didn’t come close to providing the satisfaction of his feathery soft mane slipping between his fingers.

There was a hand on his back, a comforting gesture. Jean looked up to see Reiner there looking grim. Guilt was etched in his features, however there was also sign of relief. The battle had been won, but at what cost?

“You’ll get used to it, Jean. This will be better for you in the long run.” Pieck said. Jean turned his gaze to her, making no effort to stifle the emotions that were bubbling to the surface of his tortured psyche. 

“How do you know what’s good for me?” He snarled through clenched teeth, the palms of his hands slamming down into the ground of the balcony, fingers finding the fallen strands that hadn’t yet been swept away by the breeze.

“Chin up, man. At least now you look a little less like a horse.” Connie said, a valiant attempt at comfort. Reiner cast him a look, a frown tugging at his lips.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

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It's a canon event

[willowpillowbillow]

ehm.. ok. whuey?