Verosika huffed as she precariously made her way up the ladder she'd placed in the middle of their grand room, laden with a tangle of Halloween decorations in one arm.

It was the week before Halloween. All across Hell, all around their neighbourhood, decorations were going up for the accursed season; and the Wackford-Mayday household was no exception. The whole family had been in a frenzy of activity since yesterday, pulling boxes out from storage and bedecking their home in shades of orange, gold, and bronze.

This was Verosika's sixth trip up and down the ladder today, lining the ceiling of their living room with ornamentation… and she had to admit she was finding herself a bit out of breath, moreso than previous years. She rarely missed the agility and stamina she'd once possessed at the peak of her career, nor the sheer upkeep it had taken to maintain... but at times like these it would be nice to have just some of it back.

Wings fluttering for balance, she stretched and reached to affix garlands and little hanging pumpkins to the ceiling. Her joints and sinews complained. Yep, some of her old flexibility would be nice right now too.

Maybe she should take up Charlie's offer of those free yoga sessions the Hazbin Hotel was running.

"I - ugh - could use a spare hand in here!" she grumbled, sticking an ornament in place with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

"Sorry Mom, no can do." Rayne's tenor echoed in from the next room. "Still decorating the hall."

"And who told you to do that, Mr Rayne?" Verosika inflicted a bit more sternness in her voice. If she couldn't physically put her hands on her hips she could at least do it in spirit.

Her son's voice carried just a hint of amused exasperation. " You did, Mom."

Yes, she had hadn't she?

"Alright, that's fair," she conceded. Rayne was doing his fair share, Wally was stringing up lights around the garden, and Tara was on a playdate, making Halloween cards that would go out to all their friends. Everyone was pulling their weight. She couldn't really complain.

Still… why had she chosen to decorate the room with the highest ceiling in their house?

Verosika made her descent back down to the floor, and humphed as she bent down to produce the last bundle of streamers from the battered cardboard box lying on the carpet. Sticking double-sided tape at regular intervals along the last lengths of garland, she kicked the stepladder a little bit to the left, and step by step made what would hopefully be her final ascent to the ceiling.

Damn it. This was the roof's highest point, and the ladder was too short.

"Shit," Verosika swore under her breath, futilely stretching for the high ceiling anyway. The ladder wobbled as her weight shifted, and she quickly moved to the safety of the next step down. There was no way she was going to be able to reach.

She pondered for a second. Unless…

Climbing down the ladder, Verosika made for one of the supply cupboards in Wally's office - a room that Tara loved to invade for arts and crafts time, a room that had devolved from a neatly-kept drawing room full of blueprints and slide rules to a messy artsy family studio with boxes of colored pencils and pastels strewn between stacks of paper.

A minute later, she emerged with her solution in hand: a claw-equipped grabber tool.

Verosika made her way back up the ladder. She transferred a length of tinsel from her hand to the claw, and gingerly raised it to the ceiling.

Yes. Now she could reach.

She pressed the grabber into the ceiling as firmly as she could, and when she pulled it away…the garland held.

Verosika indulged herself in a little celebratory fist pump. Sure, the decorations might be a little hard to get off, but that was a problem she could leave for later (and preferably for Wally to deal with too).

Threading the tinsel through the grabber's claw, she reached out as far as she could to affix it along the last section of unadorned ceiling, wings flapping for purchase once more.

The ladder wobbled again.

But her job was done. She stuck the last bit of tinsel to the ceiling, twirled back around to rebalance the stepladder, and with the muscle memory of many years of stagecraft she slithered down to the carpet with a flourish.

Back on firm ground, Verosika breathed a sigh of relief and assessed her work. The ceiling was crisscrossed with orange garlands; the fireplace adorned with an autumnal wreath; macabre tree cuttings and a wispy black lace tablecloth garnished the coffee table; and Tara's very own pumpkin baubles hung from as many lamp fittings and picture frames and coat hooks as possible.

It was warm, haunting yet homely, and it was beautiful.

Proudly assessing her work, Verosika reached for her phone and took a picture of the living room for posterity, posting it on her private Sinstagram.

That done, she wandered to the kitchen. She deserved a cool glass of juice after her hard work.


"I can't believe you conned Loo-Loo Land out of an animatronic, Dad!" Rayne cackled, as Wally lugged a inert metal raptor out of the back of his SUV and across the garage workspace.

"Son, I say, do ya have so little faith in your old man?" Wally feigned offense, but his trademark cocky grin gave him away.

"Of course not, Dad," Rayne crouched down to help his father lift the animatronic onto a sturdy bench. "It's just - Mammon has a huge stake in that place. This must've cost a fortune - I don't see how he'd let a valuable attraction go unaccounted for."

"And he don't like it when some overachiever middle-manager blows the budget tryna get the thing fixed." Wally set down the heavy robot on the bench and wiped his brow. "Sold it to Ozzie, an' Ozzie didn't need it so he decided to chuck it my way."

"So what you're saying is you didn't really do any swindling to get this?"

"Oh, I say, what cheek." Now Wally's indignation was genuine. "Of course, I say, of course I had to use my legendary barterin' skills with the big man!"

"Sure, Dad."

Wally scoffed, electing to ignore his son's sass for now. He rolled up his sleeves and clapped his hands together. "Now - what were ya thinkin' for this, Rayne?"

Rayne hissed through his teeth. "Well - it really seems a shame, but I wanna take off the legs and tail, gut the torso, and run a tube up through the mouth." He pointed with a screwdriver.

"For a mini flamethrower? Or a hose full of ice-cold water?" Wally rubbed his hands together, his friendly face distorting into a grinch-esque sneer. No doubt he was thinking of the Overlord spawn who had littered the front garden with discarded candy wrappers for the last few Halloweens.

"Actually… I was thinking some sort of candy dispenser system? 6 inch drainage pipe with a compressor and a candy hopper, connected to some sort of motion sensor on the front path."

Wally blinked. "Not that I'm not intrigued, I say - that's a well thought-out concept an' it's got promise - but why that of all things?"

"I think..." Rayne paused, a little wistfully. "Mom would like all four of us to go trick or treating this year, as a family, without anyone having to stay at home and hand out candy. So I thought that would be a way to do that, y'know."

"I say… that would be quite swell! What you goin' to college next year and all, this might be our last chance!" Wally reached up to ruffle Rayne's pink hair with one hand, and mimed wiping an tear away with the other. "My son, growing up so fast."

"Daaad," Rayne squirmed away with a grimace. "I get enough sappiness from Aunt Charlie,"

"No, I say, no you don't! You only see her a few times a year!"

"Can we get started already?" Rayne fled around the workbench to the safety of the workshop shelves, and grabbed a toolbox. "Dinner's in, like, an hour!"

"Alright, alright, jackrabbit." Wally picked up a steel-cutting saw, while his son huffed at that age old nickname. "Enough beating 'round the bush, I say, let's get started."

"I'll take the arms, you take the legs?"

"Sounds swell, I say! Just keep clear of the wiring, may want to keep the eyes aglow on this beast to frighten the little gremlins."

"It's Halloween, Dad! Of course I was going to keep the glowing eyes!" Rayne handed his father a pair of safety goggles and earmuffs, slipping his own on as well. He picked up a power drill, Wally revved the saw, and father and son got to work.

They would probably be late for dinner at any rate, but this would be so worth it.


"Mind your fingers, sis."

"I know , Rayne!"

Attracted by the commotion, Verosika peered curiously around the edge of the kitchen door. There were her children, seated at the counter, with a whole line of pumpkins arranged in front of them. Rayne was delicately wielding a carving knife as he engraved the jack-o-lantern's faces; Tara was enthusiastically scraping out seeds and flesh.

"Just making sure you don't get hurt on accident," Rayne hummed, his eyes flicking between his work and Tara.

"... I wouldn't !"

Verosika narrowed her eyes at Tara's proximity to the carving knife, but her motherly instinct approved of Rayne's caution.

"You have! When you were three, and doing arts and crafts that time with Anubis."

"Don't remember that!"

"I do." Rayne said pointedly. "You had the scissors, you cut yourself, you went quiet for a whole minute, and then you held out your hand and said 'Look Mom, bleeding!' Proudly . She fell out of her chair."

"Heeheeheehee…"

Verosika frowned at that memory. That had been quite the scare, and it had taken time to get used to the fact her daughter was a daring little demon with high pain tolerance.

Beside her, Wally hid a snicker behind his hand. She lightly rapped him on the shoulder, thoroughly unimpressed.

"I say, wha-?" he mouthed indignantly.

Verosika shushed her husband. She looked back to her children just in time to see Tara jabbing her finger right at the pumpkin Rayne was currently busy etching a face into.

"You're carving it wrong!"

"Hey, hey!" Her eldest firmly guided her youngest's hand away. "What did I just say, sis?"

"I was being careful!"

Rayne's face screwed up in disbelief. "It's on you if you get cut, Tara."

Tara batted her eyelashes sweetly. "Well, it's a good thing my brother wouldn't let that happen."

Said older brother went stock still for a good few seconds, and Verosika could swear his eyes glistened a tiny bit. Tara's trick of playing your heartstrings was that she did it in complete sincerity.

"...damn it." Rayne sighed, and handed his sister a marker pen. "Here. If you're gonna be picky about the faces, draw what you want me to carve."

"Yay!" Tara snatched the pen "This one's gonna be Mommy, and the next one will be Daddy…"

Verosika felt her heart swell, and by the way that Wally's fingertips brushed hers he was feeling the exact same way. She lingered for a moment more, watching their children settle into a peaceful (and most importantly safe) working rhythm, before slowly turning her back and padding softly down the hall.

"He's such a good older brother, I say." Wally murmured, matching her pace.

Memories, lovingly familial memories of Rayne and Tara welled up, and Verosika couldn't help but tear up a bit.

"He is," she sniffled. "I'm so proud of them both."


A/N:

Rayne and Tara are OCs of CyanSaoirse over on AO3!

Please do go check out CyanSaoirse's 'Cradles' and 'Mayford Family AU Oneshots' series to see Rayne and Tara written by their creator! Cyan is a brilliantly emotional writer and I'm always so grateful to be able to write stuff featuring their Mayford fankids!