Tf you doing here?!

----------------

“What a perfect day to be alive!” You cried out, happily tugging on the arm of your husband who was clearly distraught.

The dandelion in your hands was blown away by a wish you made and just forgotten; Pierrot’s eyes followed the trail of white wisps towards the chaos in front of you, not understanding your prior sentiment at all. A perfect day to be alive? How could you say this?! Not when—

“I’m going to bury you in the sand!!” A shrill voice cried out towards a smaller figure, all while holding a clump of dirt in his tiny hands.

Pierrot shrieked at the sight, holding your arm tight enough to make you alert to his distress. You shook your head at him, then towards the two children playing in the open, sunny field before asking what was wrong. To which he replied frantically:

“They’re—our children are going to get hurt! We have to stop this! They hate each other!”

Immediately, the large creature stood, accidentally dragging you up with him as though you had the airy weight of a rag doll. Struggling to maintain your footing while clenching his arm, Pierrot began marching towards the twins in the field—your children— as one began to put the other in a headlock.

“Pierrot!” You protested, digging your heels into the dirt adamantly as he pulled you with him. “What’s—they don’t hate each other! The twins are just playing, it’s not serious!”

And like an iced lake trapping a scurrying minnow, Pierrot stopped, frozen in his tracks.

“Playing….?” He asked.

Tilting his head towards you in confusion you shook your own head with a soft smile; one hand reaching towards his worried face, gently tilting it towards you. Leaning up on the tips of your toes, you kiss your husband on the lips. A familiar feeling of satisfaction fulfills you as his face heats up. It was always a pleasant reminder that after all your years of being together, getting married, having kids, the whole nine yards—that Pierrot still looked at you as that cute barista he met one day in the city.

Tugging his arm, you urged him to sit down before peeking your head towards the children.

“Hey!” You shouted in a familiar tone that only a seasoned parent could muster. “No dirt on your sister’s face, but other than that, all bets are off!”

Pierrot looked at you in shock, mouth open.

The two kids, one now on top of the other, stop to stare at you uttering a simultaneous reply of ‘ok’ before continuing their brawl. One with golden eyes blinks, the other, younger, with their father’s silver hair glares at you defiantly before releasing the dirt in their hands only to put the smaller child in a headlock.

You smiled satisfied, now sitting on the weed-ridden grass next to your shaken husband.

Kissing him on the cheek you say reassuringly, “You gotta relax, babe, kids fight.”

“B-but, they’re hurting each other!”

You grin with a light laugh, “Yeah and my older sibling used to PILE DRIVE me onto the pavement—got like ten bruises after! One of our best memories really..”

Pierrot immediately turned to you in surprised and confused distress; pupils shrinking full of fear from several gods. You furrowed your brow at him before realizing exactly why your husband was acting so strangely this warm spring morning.

“Oh…right…only child,” you clicked your tongue, nodding. “Ok so, fighting is ‘bad’ yeah, but as long as they’re not REALLY hurting each other with malice, it’s normal for siblings to hash it out every now and again.”

Pierrot began to feel sweat bead against his covered brow, “My lady…Harlequin and I used to fight like that. I merely don’t want our children to have the same grudges.”

You leaned against his shoulder, eyes softer in understanding. Rubbing his chest firmly, you helped Pierrot breath in and out to calm himself down, a practice you’d adopted to help him control his voice and anxiety when need be. Petals of grass beneath your bare legs tickled your exposed flesh, enough to imply you’ll have to put some lotion on them later to prevent itching—but that was often the price to pay for sitting in a private field so that your kids could play in peace without prying eyes. A price that was never too high in your book, and always worth it.

A single ant crawls over Pierrot’s knee and using a steady claw, the large monster leads the insect on the joints of his finger, only place it on the ground near a colony of ants by the clown’s black boot. The gentleness of this lovable giant made you reach over to hold his hand, looking up at him with reassuring eyes and a proud smile.

“You and Harlequin used knives, babe, pretty sure the kids aren’t gonna get as violent as that. At least not until they hit monster-puberty,” you shuddered at the thought, almost hoping that the twins would reach that point after your death to spare you the headache.

Then…you paused…

Realizing, as the blood drained from your face now full of dread, how much it would hurt to miss out on such a time in your children’s lives; that it was very possible you might and Pierrot would be alone. Currently, your husband looked over, blinking in confusion at your sudden frown. Noticing his gaze and how it was shadowed by the glaring sun over your heads, you snapped out of the sorrowful thought with a tight whistle and a good shake of your head.

“Nothing,” you assured him hurriedly, “just…thinking about how great it is to be able to see all this…”

Pierrot narrowed his eyes, “The twins….fighting?”

Noticing his further confusion, you tugged on Pierrot’s clothes while pointing towards the twins again and in a light whisper, urging the clown to ‘look’ at his children once more, but this time—more closely. The tall clown tilted his head before obeying, at first, and not seeing. The children were, after all, still fighting, shoving each other and shouting words they must have picked up from their ‘Uncle Harlequin’ that he’d have a talking to about later. Pierrot was ready to ask again what you wanted him to notice, before he finally saw it:

Their smiles.

The kids were laughing in between swears and name-calling; tugging while giggling.

When did this happen? Surely they hated one another just a second ago, but now…? Pierrot stared, completely flabbergasted, holding your hand even tighter in disbelief. You smiled as the joy slowly appeared on your husband’s face, growing like a seed in moist dirt; the sun above acting as food to help this italicization grow and bloom into a new truth that Pierrot had never considered.

“They’re….playing?” He gasped.

You smirked mischievously at his cute epiphany, “And, you know what’s the best part about having kids who are fighting?”

Pierrot shook his head, confused as you pulled away from him and stood up. Turning back over your shoulder, you wink at the tall clown before running towards the now happily screaming children who scattered at your approach.

“We get to join in as back-up!” You shouted happily, capturing one of the twins in your arms and lightly trustingly their wriggling bodies to the ground. “C’mere you little caterpillar!”

“Never!” Replied your son between giggles and the tickling you subjected him to on the damp grass.

Pierrot’s golden eyes shined at the sight of it, even more so as his daughter jumped on your back trying to ‘save’ her brother who was hitting her mere moments ago. The creature had never seen such a thing, nothing as beautiful as this, save for you. Your smile matched his own. Pierrot then snapped out of his stupor as you motioned for him to join you all in the fun. His claws clenched in and out as though acting in pure instinct. Finally, standing up, Pierrot made sure to avoid the ant hill by his feet before running towards his family arms wide and ready to pounce.

“Watch out!” You warned the kids while laughing. “Here comes Papa!”

What a perfect day to be alive indeed.

-------------

--------------------

A/N: Thank you again to @mistytanzanite for commissioning me this fic of Pierrot with their OC!!!