Santa's Secret Transfic Anthology Vol. 2 / Holiday Treats #8

Demon Gals and Holiday Pals

by BaronessZen

A snow storm forces four college students to make extended holiday plans together. But one student must confront their issues or risk ruining the holidays.

Also some of them are demons.

— BaronessZen

 

 

12/21 - Evening

As the sun set over the town of Little Creek, blue and white fairy lights were flipped on the outside of a small one-story house along Westwood Lane. It was the only house with holiday lights on that street. In fact, it was the only house with any lights on at all down Westwood Lane. 

Most of the residents in this neighborhood were students at the local university, and thus, had returned home for the holiday season. The only students on Westwood Lane that decided to stay over winter break were Noam Cantor and John Rey Mendoza.

Standing at the window, Noam bent down his tall, lanky body in an attempt to check on the fairy lights. He swatted his curly hair, just long enough now to reach his eyes, out of the way. A small curl of his lip appeared on his usually inexpressive face. The lights were the same ones his mother used to hang outside his childhood home. Somehow he had convinced her to lend them to him while he was at college. 

He turned to his left, where a table sat in front of the other window in the living room. On top of it sat a candelabrum with a tall center branch and eight lower branches. This was the central piece of the rituals performed during the Festival of Lights. The four branches on the right had candles in them, signifying the fourth night of the festival was coming up.

His gaze moved out towards the road. A light snow had started. Hopefully, it wouldn’t pick up too much. Any moment now, not only would his roommate arrive to celebrate the Festival of Lights, but also his childhood friend Sera and her partner. Despite going to the same college, he hadn’t stayed in touch with Sera after high school—and even back then they hadn’t talked as much. The only reason he knew she was still in town was that they had run into each other at the grocery store two days ago.

Along with not knowing how close a friend Sera even considered him anymore, he was also nervous over another fact: The Festival of Lights was a human holiday.

Sera and her partner were demons.

Noam had been nervous all day. Actually, he had been nervous the past couple days. Sometimes he was so stressed he started dry heaving. This was almost as bad as finals week.

Noam went back to the couch across the room and sat down as an unnatural tiredness overcame him. Maybe he was worrying away all his energy. If only he had a couple more hours to sleep…

Beep beep! Sera’s truck honking hello snapped Noam back to reality. He always wondered how a car that big could make such a cute little honk. 

He scanned over the living room to make sure it was presentable. The dull blue walls and white ceiling were lacking decorations. Between him taking an extension on his finals and John Rey working a job to pay for next semester, the two hadn’t had a chance to unpack their decorations—let alone put them up. Still, they managed to at least clean the room once they knew they’d have guests. 

Ding dong. 

Noam walked through the navy blanket he had hung in the doorless doorway to separate the living room from the mud room towards the door. 

“It’s unlocked!” Noam called out. “John Rey isn’t back yet.”

The door opened, and a familiar blue-skinned, muscular figure—tall enough to need to duck her head under the frame—walked in. She wore jean shirt shorts and a black low-side tank top that gave her four arms their full range of movement. While Noam knew most demons weren’t affected by the temperature, he was used to his childhood friend dressing more conservatively, often wearing large hoodies that could hide her extra arms in its baggy sleeves. 

“Hi, Noam,” the figure said in a sweet, quiet voice. “Happy festival!”

“Hey, Sera!”

“Actually, she’s not shortening her name anymore,” a husky voice corrected. “It’s Serala now.”

Coming in behind Serala was another demon with an aggressively red skin tone. The demon’s ram horns brought their height from just over Noam’s to giving them a few inches on him. And that’s before factoring the height added by their combat boots. They wore a white crop top, leather jacket, and dark skinny jeans. A short, spade tail peaked out from their jacket, resting against the red flannel tied around their waist. 

“She made a Facebook post about it a year ago, I don’t know if you saw,” they elaborated. 

“No, I don’t use Facebook anymore now that all my clubs moved to Discord,” Noam said. 

“Oh, well, maybe she can talk about it later. Anyways, I’m Moxi. They/them pronouns.” Moxi reached out their hand. 

“Noam.” He shook their hand. “Uh, guy pronouns, I guess.”

Mox’s eyes narrowed. “I see.”

“You said John Rey wasn’t home?” Serala changed the subject. 

“Work,” Noam said. “He also said he might stop by the grocery store on the way here.”

“Well, we look forward to meeting him.”

“Would you like potato pancakes while we wait?”

“The stuff your mom used to make for the festival?” Both sets of arms on Serala clapped with excitement. 

“Yup!”

“Sour cream or applesauce on top?”

“Whichever you want.”

“Let’s gooooo!” 

Serala nearly jumped in excitement, but Moxi put a hand on her shoulder before the blue demon could headbutt the ceiling. 

“Serala has been talking about how she used to visit your family during the festival,” Moxi said. “She was wondering if you were going to make potato pancakes.”

“Of course,” Noam said, “it wouldn’t be the Festival of Lights without them. Ima—”

“That’s what he calls his mom,” Serala explained.

“—gave me all her recipes in a cookbook. I don’t think they’re as good as Ima’s, but I guess Sera—er, Serala—is the only other person in town that could give a second opinion.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great!”

A bit of Noam’s nervousness calmed at that. “Well then—” He moved aside the navy blanket leading into the living room. “—let’s head in.”

---

John Rey burst through the front door. “Dude, dude, dude!”

“Don’t forget to lock the door,” Noam called from the living room. 

“My hands are full, dude. Can I get a little assist?”

Noam sighed then walked to the mud room. 

Standing next to the open door was his roommate, John Rey, dressed in his only pair of jeans that wasn’t ripped (dubbed his “work pants”) and a green hoodie that was probably covering up his China Palace polo. He leaned forward and shook off the crocheted beanie off his head, releasing his long, wavy, jet black hair. In his hands were an absurd number of grocery bags: one third with food, one third with random toiletries, and the last third with yarn in more colors than Noam knew existed. 

Noam did a double take. “What’s all this?”

“Survival, man. Survival. Did you not get my texts?” 

Noam checked his phone and saw twenty unread notifications. The last being: dont worry dude i got everything back soon!!

“I mean, I was busy cooking more potato pancakes so we’d have some for you.”

“Duuuude, that’s so nice! But you’re lucky I know your favorite hot pocket. I don’t know if the tato-cakes will last us that long.. Wait, shit, can you heat those up if the power goes out? It’s a good thing I got a bunch of pop tarts…”

“What are you talking about?”

“The blizzard that’s coming, dude!”

---

Moxi sighed. “Welp, there’s no way I’m letting Serala drive through that.”

Noam, Serala, and Moxi were crowded around a living room window while John Rey put away the groceries. Outside, two or three inches of snow were already starting to pile up and the winds were gradually sending the oncoming snow at worse and worse angles. 

“Even if you left now?” Noam asked. “It’s not that bad yet.”

Moxi shook their head. “We live on the other side of town, which means we’d either need to drive through the hilly roads on campus or the tiny, messed up roads in the neighborhoods.”

“I’m just embarrassed I didn’t notice the snow picking up,” Serala said. 

“You’re fine, dear.” Moxi planted a kiss on Serala’s head. 

Noam sighed. “I guess you’re all stuck here now.”

“Is that a problem?”

“What? No, I mean, is it?”

“That depends on you.”

“I don’t mind. I just wasn’t sure if you all were okay with it.”

Moxi shrugged. “Like I said, that depends on you.” They stood up. “Bathroom?”

Noam pointed to the navy blanket. “Through the mudroom, you’ll see a hallway. One of the open doors should be the bathroom.”

Moxi nodded and left.

Noam leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. “She doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true,” Serala said. “It’s not that they don’t like you—” 

“Ugh, my bad.”

“—it’s just Moxi usually has a bad time around the holiday season. I think having more company this year is good for them. Besides, they absolutely devoured those potato pancakes. Don’t tell them I told you, but they don’t actually have to eat. They usually eat the bare minimum to be polite. Those pancakes were sooo good.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Serala squatted down next to Noam and patted his shoulder. “It’s nice seeing you again. And I’m glad we get to hang out more over winter break, even if it isn’t by choice.” She held out a fist.

Noam fist bumped her, and then the two’s hands mimicked an explosion—accompanied by cheesy explosion sounds, of course. 

“Well then,” Noam said, “how about we at least finish up the stuff you two did sign up for.”

---

Once John Rey and Moxi were back, the four students gathered around a plastic, fold-out table with a white table cloth over it. The cold from the outside seeped in from the less than perfectly sealed window behind the table. In the center of the table, the festival candelabra stood. Thin candles had been placed in the center branch and the four rightmost branches. A dollar-store lighter (and a half-used set of matches for backups) laid in front of it.

“Would anyone like to light the candles?” Noam asked.

The two demons stared at him blankly.

“I have to ask, sorry. It’s tradition.”

“And I did it last time,” John Rey. “Besides, the expert should show them how it works.”

Noam rolled his eyes. With the lighter, he lit the center candle—“the helper candle,” he explained as he went through the ritual. Then he picked up the helper, and used it to light the other candles—starting with the left-most and proceeding to the right. As he did so, he began to chant in a language unfamiliar to the others. While the two demons couldn’t understand the words, they could feel the magic they carried, and knew these were prayers for a deity they had always been taught would never care for them.

As Noam stood closest to the new source of light, his illuminated face revealed a genuine smile shining through, one neither Serala nor John Rey could remember seeing before. Both the warmth and the contentment Noam felt soon spread to the others—even the demons who were usually immune to temperature. 

As the last of the chants finished, the four sat in silence, sharing this moment with Noam. And had anyone else still been in their houses on Westwood Lane, the lights could’ve cut through the early stages of the storm, and shared itself with the rest of the neighborhood as well.

The candles danced and burned. 

John Rey broke the silence. “Wow…”

“Huh?” Noam looked behind him. “Oh sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“You’re cool, dude. I’m just enjoying the show.’”

Noam turned to the two demons.

Serala smiled. “It was beautiful, Noam.” 

Noam let out a sigh of relief.

“Honestly, I didn’t think human traditions had any magic in them,” Moxi said.

Noam blinked twice. “Wait, magic?”

“Yeah. And it was… nice. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Noam frowned. “Well, it’s just a holiday tradition. It doesn’t need to be magic or anything.”

“That’s still wild, dude.” John Rey got up and shook Noam’s shoulder. “We thought we’d never have magic, bro.”

Noam shoved John Rey off his shoulder and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Serala tilted her head. “You thought you’d never have magic?”

“Well, yeah,” John Rey said. “Noam and I are humans.”

“No… Noam is half-demon.”

---

“Noam’s like half-half-snake person! So like… a quarter snake?” John Rey was sitting on the couch, processing this new revelation about his best friend.

Serala, who was sitting between him and Moxi, bit her lip. “Those aren’t the words we’d use…”

“My bad. So one day Noam is going to, like, transform into a snake demon?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Noam, who sat by the festival candelabra. “We should be focusing on figuring out what we’re doing about this storm.”

John Rey raised his hands. “Hey, man, there’s a reason I never ask about parents when my friends don’t mention them. I’m just glad your dad is not like dead, or like some shitty person who left your mom. Instead, he’s just like a snake dude you’re ashamed of or something.”

Moxi crossed their arms. “You’re ashamed of your heritage?”

“No!” Noam yelled, but then immediately retreated in himself. “I just don’t like all this attention… Not every demon has to wear skimpy clothing in the middle of winter.” 

“I’m wearing comfortable clothing because I thought I’d finally get to spend the holiday around people who aren’t going to judge me at first glance.”

Serala grabbed Moxi’s hand. “Moxi, breathe…” 

Noam shrugged. “Everyone judges you. You can’t stop it. All you can do is control what they get to judge you with.”

Moxi took a deep breath. “Well thanks for proving that’s true for everyone—both humans AND demons. I’m going to… the bathroom or something.” Moxi stormed through the navy blanket.

“‘I should—” Serala started.

“I’ll check on them.” John Rey tried to give a disapproving look at Noam, but he wasn’t paying attention. He turned back to Serala. “Well, the man wants to figure out our plans for the storm, so maybe he’ll talk about that.” He followed after Moxi.

Serala walked over to the table. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Noam lied. He felt like he was going to throw up. Why was he this stressed over a dumb fight?

“Do you have anything you want to talk about?”

“Logistics. Plans. I don’t know.”

Serala nodded. “Well, we can start there.”

---

12/22 - Morning

Even during break, Noam’s phone alarm went off every day at 6 a.m. But with the winds howling outside, Noam almost woke up without the alarm.

Noam still felt just as shitty as he did last night. A part of him wanted to just sleep all day, but alas, Noam was a creature of routine. And as the self-appointed chef of the house, he had a duty to make breakfast.

He slumped out of bed, and took a moment to warm himself next to his space heater. Then he went out into the hallway, relying on his oversized, long-sleeved shirt and fuzzy, plaid pajama pants to brave his poorly heated house.

He turned to his right. For the first time in a while, both of the other bedroom doors in the hallway were closed. John Rey was still asleep in his room, of course, probably enjoying his first day off in a while. The other bedroom used to belong to Noam and John Rey’s previous roommate. But it had been vacant since their previous roommate had transferred to another college to be closer to her family last semester. Now, Serala and Moxi were sleeping there.

It was nice seeing the house full again. Noam was excited, honestly, to cook breakfast for more than two people. Noam headed over to the kitchen, ready to go all out. Maybe it would smooth over last night… 

---

As Noam finished up breakfast, he heard John Rey bouncing into the living room.

John Rey entered wearing similar pajamas to Noam. His shirt was black with a shounen anime cast printing on the front, and his pants were white with cartoon triceratops on them.

“Dude, I had an idea. Since we have a day off…” John Rey started. “Wait, that shit smells great.”

In the living room, a plastic, fold out table was set up with four foldable chairs. Each seat had a paper plate and a set of plastic ware, paper napkins, and a plastic cup of water. At the table’s center, there were two bigger paper plates: one with hashbrowns, and one with a simple omelet with cheese, tomatoes, and mushrooms. 

Noam came out of the kitchen, carrying a third paper plate with little sausage patties. “I got lazy and just heated up the little frozen sausages in the microwave,” he said.

“You’re calling this lazy?” John Rey gestured to Noam’s work. “I was expecting to stand around in the kitchen eating breakfast hot pockets, man.” 

Serala was next to walk in. She wore a white t-shirt with a blue plesiosaurus silhouette and grey sweatpants.

Serala let out a yawn, stretching with two of her arms and rubbing her eyes with her other set of hands.

“Good morning.” She looked over at John Rey. “Nice pants.”

“Thanks, dudette. You’re cool with ‘dudette,’ right?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Just checking. I was thinking since Noam is ‘dude,’ you can be ‘dudette,’ and your partner can be like ‘friendo.’ But it’s only cool if y’all are cool with it.” 

Noam shrugged. “They’re just nicknames, who cares?”

“Someone might, dude. Anyways, dudette, I love your shirt. Where’d you get that?”

“Moxi knows a little magic that can store away extra clothes and stuff for emergencies. And by ‘emergency,’ that usually means preventing anyone from seeing them in the same outfit two days in a row.”

“That makes sense, but like, I was just asking where you bought it, dudette.”

“Oh, um, thrift store.”

“Hype.”

Serala turned to Noam. “Is this food for just you two or…?”

“It’s for everyone who wants it,” Noam said.

“Yay!”

As the three chose their seats, Moxi walked in. They wore a slightly big t-shirt with a red stegosaurus on it—presumably borrowed from Serala—and shorts. 

“Don’t judge me,” they said. “I haven’t picked out an outfit yet.”

Noam shrugged. “Clothes are clothes.”

“Yeah,” John Rey said. “Also, can I call you ‘friendo?’”

Moxi smiled. “Only if you’re okay with being my friend.”

“Then take a seat, friendo!”

Moxi grabbed the last remaining seat, scooching it up next to Serala. She kissed the top of their partner’s head then sat down.

“Y’all say grace?” John Rey asked.

The demons shook their heads.

“Me neither. But Noam does.”

Noam waved a hand. “I did a prayer quietly while you all were talking.”

“Works for me. Let’s dig in—OH WAIT! Shit, before this food makes me forget again, I had an idea. Since I’ll be off work for once…” John Rey held the silence then wiggled his fingers in the air. “Let’s make cookies on Midwinter’s Eve!”

“That’s in two days, right?” Serala asked.

John Rey’s face scrunched up as he tried to do mental math. 

“Correct, it’s on the 24th,” Noam said.

“We can do that.” Serala poked Moxi. “Then it won’t conflict with the solstice. And we can maybe do that together as a household…”

“Oh yeah, do you all know about the solstice?” Moxi asked.

John Rey scratched his head. “I know my phone tells me it’s the winter solstice every year.”

“Well, that’s our—” Moxi gestured to herself and Serala, and then almost included Noam before pausing. “That’s the winter holiday for demons.”

“Oh! The Festival of Darkness!”

Moxi let out an exhale. “Those aren’t the words we’d use. It’s called the Solstice of Solitude.”

“Damn, that sounds way cooler. So wait, Noam, does that mean you have three holidays you celebrate?”

“I don’t celebrate the solstice!” Noam said a bit too loudly before curling into himself. “Not anymore…” He started grabbing food to put on his plate. “Food’s getting cold.”

“Wait, why not? That’s like more celebration. That’s why some people act like Midwinter lasts 25 days. So they can have more fun.”

“It’s not fun.” Noam took a bite of eggs.

“How? It’s a holiday.”

Noam pointed at his full mouth as an excuse to not speak.

“It’s… different,” Serala chimed in. 

“A lot of human holidays try to fight back against the cold and dreariness of winter. For demons, we accept that it is what it is,” Moxi explained. “So instead of coming together to have some fun in spite of it being winter, we each take time alone to brave the winter.”

“Okay, so it’s a different kind of cool. I can vibe with that,” John Rey said. “So what does that even look like?”

“Basically, everyone finds their own spot to be alone for the day. Our ancestors used to just find a dark, quiet spot outside, but nowadays each person in a demon household just claims a room and keeps the lights off. Then you just… reflect. Sometimes you figure some stuff about yourself. Sometimes you think about how messed up the world is. And when the day is over, someone rings a bell and we all come together to talk about the stuff about the world.”

“So no candles?”

“Actually, there are candles when we come together,” Serala said. “That’s probably why it gets superficially compared to the Festival of Lights.”

John Rey raised his hands. “Say no more. I’m down.”

“Awesome!” Moxi said. “I can explain more when I get you your candle.”

“Noam, maybe… we could get you a candle as well?” Serala offered. “So you’re not the only one left out.”

Noam chewed over the offer and his last bite of sausage. “I’ll just do the evening assembly. And only if it doesn’t overlap with my ritual for the Festival of Lights.”

“Deal! But uh…”

“I know, I know. You can’t come to the candle lighting because of the solstice. I’ve dealt with this with my dad.” 

“Oh, that’s true… But actually I was actually worried about a different thing…” Both her left arms tugged Moxi’s sleeve.

“Is it okay if Serala borrows your room? We can’t share one during the solstice.”

Noam shrugged. “Sure, whatever. I can sleep on the couch.”

“Dudette, you can use my room instead if you want,” John Rey offered.

Serala pressed her lips together. “Um…”

Moxi pointed at their nose. “Some demons are especially sensitive to smell. And uh… We already smell something when we pass your room.”

“Shit, my weed? I’m sorry if that’s bugging you. I, uh, I don’t know… Was just freaking out over the winds last night, so—”

“Oh, no, no.” Serala waved all four of her hands. “I get it. I’m not judging, I swear.”

“We’re fine,” Moxi said. “As long as it stays in your room.”

“Hey, this is why I keep it in my room. My good time is never at the expense of everyone else’s.”

“Appreciated,” Moxi said. “So we light candles for the Festival of Lights tonight, a day of isolation and an evening assembly for the Solstice of Solitude tomorrow, and then we bake cookies for Midwinter’s Eve the day after.”

“And gift giving on Midwinter! I’ll have something for everyone that morning.”

“The storm will probably last that long, anyways.” Moxi turned to Serala. “Sounds good to you, dear?”

Serala nodded excitedly.

“Noam?”

“Might as well since we’re all here.” Noam stood up and grabbed his trash. “I’m done eating. You all better eat it before it gets too cold.”

“Oh right, your food!” John Rey immediately started grabbing stuff for his plate.

---

12/23 - Morning 

Noam woke up feeling not quite as rested as usual. Whether it was from sleeping on the couch, the continued unsettling ambience of blizzard winds, or the chilly temperature of the living room—he wished he had brought the heater from his room out before Serala went to bed—the situation had just thrown him off. 

He checked his phone. 5:00 a.m. He groaned and curled up under his blankets. Maybe he could fall back asleep… It’s not like anyone was doing anything today. 

---

Noam’s alarm went off. 6:00 a.m. Well, he at least managed to “sleep”—or whatever you call the half-awake, half-asleep state he’d been in—for another hour. 

He went to the kitchen and looked through the fridge. He could make eggs again. Or just microwave some waffles for everyone. 

Oh, wait. Everyone is staying in their room. 

He sighed. Maybe he should enjoy having a day off from cooking. 

He went to the pantry and grabbed a package of fudge-flavored pop tarts. He leaned against the counter and started nibbling on the first pop tart. 

At some point he realized John Rey, the other human in the house, probably needed breakfast as well. He tiptoed into the hallway to slide one under John Rey’s door. He could barely hear a hushed “fuck yeah, dude” on the other side, followed by a “oh right, gotta be silent.”

Noam let out a puff of air through his nostrils that almost became a soft laugh. Until he realized those were probably the only words he’d hear from another human being all day.

Noam sighed. This was going to be a long day.

---

12/23 - Evening

Noam sat by the festival candelabra. The sun had set fifteen minutes prior, and only now had John Rey remembered to join him.

John Rey gave an apologetic look, but was still silent for the solstice and sat halfway across the room.

“Whatever,” Noam muttered. “Would you like to light the candles?”

John Rey shook his head.

Noam sighed. “Of course.”

Noam began chanting for the lighting ritual. The words let him escape his feelings and live in one of the many traditions his mother passed down to him. After lighting then grabbing the helper candle, he lit the first candle, the second candle, the third—

Ding ding. A soft bell interrupted him.

Noam watched John Rey’s reflection in the window. John Rey mouthed the word “sorry” as he stood up.

Noam tried to use his body language to say “just stay ten seconds longer” as he finished his chants, but John Rey had already shuffled back to his room.

The fourth candle was lit. The chanting concluded. 

Noam stood in the candlelight alone.

---

The guest room was pitch black. By some magic, the street lights that usually pierced through the cheap curtains no longer made it into the room.

The only light was a single red flame in the center of the room. It illuminated the black candle it spawned from, but not the hand that held it nor the face behind it. 

The door creaked open. Two similar candles, one with a blue flame and the other with a green flame, entered. The blue flame slowly joined the red one while the green flame waited by the door.

A minute later, a final candle carried in a mundane-looking flame. But amongst the monochromatic flames, the mix of whites and oranges flickering from a blue base were out of place.

The four flames formed themselves into a circle.

Ding ding.

The bell sound returned. As if responding to a command, the door softly shut itself. Then one by one, the flames extinguished themselves, leaving nothing but disembodied voices in the dark room.

“Tonight, on the darkest night of the year, we sought what dark truths remained even away from the world. Now, let the reflections of the self stay within the self, but let the reflections of the world return to the world.”

A pause.

“Dude, why is weed still illegal?”

“This is… different. But go on.”

“Okay, I know y’all usually talk about demon stuff, so I’ll get my dumb human stuff out of the way first. So like, people are allowed to drink and smoke. And a lot of people use it as like a stress thing or like to have a nice time. The only reason we don’t let people do that with weed is basically just so they can overly punish minorities and poor people for nonviolent crimes.”

“I don’t get it. I thought no one cared about weed besides, like, not wanting to smell it.”

“Well, yeah. But it’s not about the people, dudette. It’s about the system.”

“That’s weird.”

“The world is weird. Sometimes in ways that don’t keep up with the people. Thanks for sharing.”

A pause. 

“You can’t see it, but I did, like, a peace sign then a salute.”

“Can I go next?”

“You don’t have to ask, so go ahead, dear.”

“Why is college so expensive?”

“Dudette, that’s what I’m saying.”

“I feel like no one ever tells you that you can just go to community college for so much cheaper. Or that some careers don’t need it.”

“It’s because schools want your money.”

“And then when we graduate, they’re still going to want our money.”

“Mannnnn.”

“I feel like that’s something we all know. We’re literally living it right now. Why do you all act like it’s so surprising?”

“This isn’t a space to downplay other people’s reactions. Just because it’s obvious, doesn’t mean it’s any less true.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a dark truth. Sure.”

The room was silent save for a single frustrated exhale.

“Anyways, thank you for sharing. Anyone else?”

Silence.

“I’ll go then. It’s frustrating that the English language doesn’t have standard gender-neutral alternatives for some terms.”

“Okay, seriously, are you all purposefully avoiding offending the humans in the room or something? I thought this is when demons complain about demonphobia and shit.”

“It’s about whatever people thought of during their reflections, dick.”

“Moxi, breathe first…”

“Here, I’ll start: It’s fucked up demon men have to live their lives just being seen as dangerous monsters.”

“What about demon women?”

“Well, they at least get to be seen as desirable.”

Inhale. Exhale. “So being fetishized is fine?”

“I guess.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“Wait, dude, this is already sounding not great, even to a clueless human like me.”

“Well, it’s true. Don’t undermine my dark truth or whatever.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“Um, let’s move on…”

Inhale. Exhale. “I got one. It’s a shame so many demons live with internalized demonphobia that turns them against their own kin.”

“Is this a callout?”

“Oh so you do have some amount of self-awareness!”

“Guys…”

“It’s not about myself. It’s the world and how they’re going to judge you.”

“Here we go again—”

“What? Don’t like the truth? Oh, boo hoo, you’re someone’s fetish, big whoop. Every woman has to deal with creeps—”

“I’m not a woman!”

“—but I’ve seen how people act when they meet my father. I’ve seen how people change when they find out I’m going to become some freakish snake man like him. Just ask Sera how our friends in middle school reacted.”

“My girlfriend’s name is Serala!”

“Oh because she wants to flaunt her demon pride now? I finally logged on Facebook to read that post you mentioned. I bet you wrote all of that for her. And you know what, maybe you’re right to brainwash her. Because unlike your shapeshifting ass, she’s always going to look like a four-armed, blue freak to people.”

“Woah, dude, what the fuck are you talking about.”

“Oh, you didn’t realize she’s a succubus yet?”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“I mean, maybe she should’ve given herself wings so she completes her stereotypical succubus outfit.”

“Those. Aren’t. The words I’d use. I’m an affection demon.”

“Yeah, whatever. Either way, you’re the one demon that could just pass for a normal human. Do you realize how lucky you are?”

“You shut the fuck—”

“Moxi, breathe… Noam… Um…”

“Save your breath, I‘m just going to go.”

The door flung open as a figure stormed out. 

---

12/24 - Morning

Noam woke up late. He must’ve forgotten to set his alarm after last night.

He started healing towards the kitchen, but paused after hearing voices in the living room. He paused right outside the navy blanket, opening a small crack to peek inside.

Serala was standing by the window staring outside. Moxi, who was sitting on the coach, walked up next to her.

“My weather app says the storm will clear in a day or so,” Serala said.

Moxi rubbed their partner’s back. “Should we leave early?”

“I don’t know… We said we would stay until Midwinter. I know John Rey is super excited to celebrate that with us. I don’t want to be rude…”

“You’re not the one who’s rude around here.”

Serala was silent.

“I’m just going to say it since you won’t. Noam’s a dick. Like, I’m trying to check my biases here, but last night was ridiculous, right? Was he always this bad?”

“Not when we were kids. But…”

Moxi grabbed Serala’s hand. “But?”

“I don’t want to assume…” Serala squeezed Moxi’s hand and fidgeted with her other hands. “But I think he purposefully was trying to avoid me in high school. I don’t know. But that’s when he started not liking when people brought up demon stuff.”

“That’s kinda fucked up.”

Serala shrugged. “It’s whatever. If he didn’t want to be friends, that’s fine.”

“Then why’d he invite you now?”

“I have no idea anymore.”

Noam backed away from the blanket. He wasn’t sure either why he invited her. But he supposed it didn’t matter anymore since they were probably leaving as soon as possible.

He slipped back to his room and laid back down in bed. Maybe sleeping in was the move today.

---

“Noam? Are you in there, dude?” A voice called out. 

Noam groaned. He looked around and couldn’t see anything. But he could definitely feel something around him, keeping him stuck in a fetal position. “What the fuck?”

“Oh thank fuck, you’re in there. It’s me, John Rey. You’re, uh, inside an egg.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like I’m literally looking at a giant egg, dude, and your voice is coming out of it.”

Noam pressed his hands up against his enclosure. “No, no, no, no. Is this…?”

“It’s your metamorphosis, Noam,” Moxi’s voice finished. “John Rey found you like this in the morning when we were going to start baking cookies. It’s been about 8 hours so you should be done soon. The magic coming off you seems to have peaked.”

“Well get me out before I—“

“Don’t finish that sentence. And it’s too dangerous to stop a metamorphosis.”

“Yeah, dude, they said it could mess up your body forever,” John Rey said. 

“My body is about to be messed up forever.” As if on cue, Noam felt a numbness overtake his legs. “Fuck! Why are you even here, Moxi? Is this revenge for last night?”

“No, I don’t give a shit about you!” Moxi yelled. “Yes, you pissed me off. But that anger passes. The holidays always suck for me, and people are always saying insensitive shit. This is just another solstice for me.

“I’m here because the one person who can tolerate you can’t see if your magic is freaking out, and the other person who could’ve been your friend again can’t handle all the shit you keep causing.”

“Uh,” John Rey chimed in, “speaking of magic freaking out, friendo, is he…”

“Oh, his magic is freaking the fuck out.” 

Noam could feel the numbness waning as a sharp pain replaced it. “No shit!”

Moxi took a deep breath. “You need to stop fighting it or it’s just going to feel worse.”

“But I don’t want to become a snake demon! I’ve already seen how people act when they find out I could turn into one.”

“Here we go again…”

“You know I’m right!”

“Dude, I’m literally right here,” John Rey said. “I don’t care if you’re a human dude or demon dude or anything dude. I just care whether you’re an ass or not. And lately, you’ve been a huge ass.”

Noam fell silent. 

“Listen, if anyone’s shitty about you being a demon, they aren’t worth your time. You can be such a sweet dude. Whenever I eat your food before and after work, that’s the highlight of my day. And you do it every damn day.”

Noam felt a hand rest on top of the egg. 

“If people can’t get past the demon part to meet like the cool dude inside, that’s their loss,” John Rey continued. “Look, let’s just get through this, dude. I want my friend back. I’m tired of looking at this dumb egg.”

A pause. 

“His magic is stabilizing,” Moxi said, “but there’s still some fluctuations. He’s probably still nervous.”

“Stop talking like I can’t hear you,” Noam said through gritted teeth. 

“Well, dude, are you nervous?” John Rey asked. 

“Yes, I’m fucking nervous. And this still hurts.” 

“Well it’s going to hurt as long as you’re still nervous,” Moxi said. 

“Then it’ll just have to hurt!” 

The numbness spread throughout Noam’s body, and with it, the periodic flashes of pain. Then his body glowed green, illuminating the egg’s interior. The inside of the shell was strangely reflective, and with the new source of light, Noam had a full view of his own transformation. 

His legs glowed brighter as the magic of his metamorphosis burned away his fuzzy pajama pants. To replace it, smooth, dark green scales covered his legs. 

The scales spread up his back and along his arms. His nails grew and sharpened to a slight point. Then the scales spread up the back of his neck then outlined his face. A sudden pain made his mouth open reflexively, giving him a view of his canines growing into fangs. 

Noam braced himself. He knew his father was bald with scales covering most of his head. But to his surprise, the scales spared his hair. Instead of becoming bald, Noam’s hair was growing fast into a long mess of curls, similar to his mother. 

He looked forward. His eyes were still the same blue color he had inherited from his mother. No snake eyes. In fact, his whole face looked a lot like his mother’s. Was it always like that? 

A sharp pain turned his attention to his legs, which looked like they were fusing together. Then they became completely numb, giving him no clue as to how this process was working. By the time feeling returned to his legs, his two scaly legs had turned into one long, slender tail. 

Noam expected the transformation to be over by now, but he could still feel numbness from all over the top half of his body.

His arms shortened, and his hand looked more delicate despite the subtle claws. He looked at his reflection. His hips were widening and his shoulder were narrowing. His whole torso became shorter, as if to balance out the added height his new tail would give him. And two small mounds began to grow from his chest. 

“What the fuck!” A high-pitched, whiny voice cried out. Noam covered his mouth. 

Was that his voice? 

“The fuck?”

Yeah, it was his voice. 

“Oh fuck.”

---

12/24 - Evening

John Rey stood outside Noam’s door. After Noam’s transformation inside the egg had started, the egg had started glowing bright enough to hurt John Rey’s eyes. Moxi brought him outside, and left Noam here to wait for Noam to come outside.

It had been a few minutes since the glowing had stopped.

John Rey knocked on the door. “You good, dude?”

“Nope!” a whiny voice replied.

“Wait, is your voice different?”

“NOPE!”

“Uh, okay… So are you coming out?”

“No—um, maybe.”

“Well, it’s sundown, so we should light the festival candles.”

The door opened a crack, and a single nervous eye peaked out at John Rey. 

“I don’t know if I can…” Noam said.

“Dude, you’re the only one who can,” John Rey said. “None of us know the prayers.”

“But—”

“Just come on, dude.” John Rey pushed the door open the rest of the way.

Standing shyly inside was a transformed Noam, who was wearing a sweater that had already been baggy on their previous body. Now, the sleeves extended an extra three inches, and the length almost made it seem like it could be a sweater dress. Between the oversized attire and Noam’s new long set of curls, the only exposed evidence of their snake transformation was the long scaly tail coiled to let Noam “stand.”

John Rey looked over his friend’s new appearance. “Dude, that tail looks dope. Or, er, do you not want to talk about, like, any of this?”

Noam pouted. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair, fair. Well then—” John Rey stepped back and gestured down the hall. “After you.” 

Noam paused for a moment then slithered forward. The movement felt scarily natural. Most of the stiffness in Noam’s movements were just from nervousness. 

Noam entered the living room, followed by John Rey. Serala and Moxi were sitting at the couch. They turned to John Rey and gave a questioning look. John Rey shrugged. Moxi turned their look towards Serala, who also shrugged.

Noam looked between the three of them. “What’s all these looks for?” 

“Are we just not going to talk about how you have boobs now?” Moxi asked.

Noam flushed. “How’d you notice!”

“Because I have eyes.” 

“Sorry, is this something you… don’t like about your transformation?” Serala asked.

Noam slumped. “I don’t know. I’m still processing the snake thing, so I haven’t thought through the… rest of it.”

“Okay, but like, can I still call you ‘dude’ and stuff?” John Rey asked.

“Would you want to… try ‘she/her’ pronouns?” Moxi added.

“I don’t care,” Noam said as she approached the table by the window. “I’m just going to… I don’t know, see if this fucks up the candle lighting ritual or something.”

The three fell silent as Noam began. She struggled to get the lighter to work before eventually giving up and just using the matches to light the helper candle. Then she picked up the helper and started the prayers. As the words left her lips, they sounded more melodic, like how her mother would say them. Her hands guided the helper candle to light the seven other candles—leftmost to rightmost, as before. 

Then a familiar warmth overcame Noam, and as always, she couldn’t help but smile—the first time smiling as her new self. And the warmth and light once again dared to spread as far as it could. With the snow piled up to nearly the top of the windows, most of it stayed with the only four people currently staying on Westwood Lane. And they happily accepted it.

The candles danced and burned. 

“That felt… different,” Noam said.

John Rey scratched his head. “It… did? I mean, it looked the same to me.” 

“I’m going to be honest, the magic looked basically the same to me,” Moxi said.

“Really?” Noam said. “It was just a bit different for me… Like—”

Serala stood up. “Well, um, I’m sorry for being rude, but I’m going to go, uh, lie down.”

John Rey sulked. “But cookies…”

Noam raised a hand. “I’ll go. You all were the ones who were awake to make the cookies, so you all should eat them.”

“I mean, you can stay, dude, Midwinter cookies are for everybody.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t want to spoil the night.” Before anyone could interject, Noam started slithering away. “Um, merry Midwinter's Eve.”

“Merry Eve to you, too, dude,” John Rey called after her. “I’ll bring you one after we all get first pick and choose which ones to leave out for the Midwinter Man.”

Serala sat back down. “The Midwinter Man?”

“Oh yeah, so when you’re a kid, your parents tell you there’s this Midwinter Man who breaks into your house and leaves you either coal or presents—”

---

12/25 - Morning

It was Midwinter morning. The snow storm had finally passed, leaving behind a winter wonderland—ignoring the stray branches, knocked over signs, and scattered decorations, of course. But it was peaceful just in time for Midwinter. 

Noam woke up early as usual to make breakfast, but she was surprised to find Serala in the kitchen.

“Don’t look!” Serala said as she spread out her four arms to block the messy scene behind her. “I, uh, was using some leftover cookie dough to make cookies as a Midwinter gift.”

“Oh, you’re still staying for Midwinter?” Noam asked.

“I, uh… I mean, we said we would, and it’d be rude not to—”

“I overheard you and Moxi yesterday…”

“Oh…”

“Look, after breakfast, I’ll go outside and start shoveling snow while you all do Midwinter presents. John Rey deserves his holiday, and it shouldn’t be ruined for you and Moxi either. But as soon as you’re done, you can immediately leave and never see me again.”

Two of Serala’s arms stopped blocking the view so she could fidget with her thumbs. “That’s not what I want.”

“You don’t have to be nice. I know I’ve ruined things between us. I figured that’s why you tried to leave the room last night.”

“No! I just was scared you were about to say something that’d start a fight again… I like celebrating all these holidays with everyone. I don’t want to go… And I don’t want you to go either…”

“Oh…” Noam shrunk herself by coiling more of her tail.  “Well, I can try not to fuck things up then. I got a bunch of stuff to figure out, but it should probably be on my own time.”

“I mean, you can have friends help you figure stuff out. Just probably ask first.”

Noam perked back up. “We can still be friends?”

“I hope so. Honestly, I don’t have that many.”

Noam chuckled. “Yeah, me neither.”

There was an awkward pause.

Noam coughed. “Hey, uh, can you help me figure something out?”

“Um, sure,” Serala said.

“Remember when I asked Ima what she and my dad would’ve named me if I was a girl?”

“Oh yeah, you did ask that.”

“And she said she liked the name Talia. Do you think… that name would suit me? You know, since I guess I’m a girl now.”

“I think that would suit you well, Talia.”

Talia smiled. “Thanks.” 

Talia slithered over to go for a hug, and she was met with four welcoming arms.

“Oh wait, shoot, you still can’t look at the kitchen,” Serala said.

“No worries, I’m leaving,” Talia said. “Just let me know when you’re one so I can make everyone a nice breakfast.”

“Of course, Talia.”

---

John Rey burst in the living room, wearing his candy cane pajama pants and a jarring bright green sweater with blinking fairy lights sewn into it. In his hands were three paper grocery bags. 

“MERRY MIDWINTER!” he yelled. 

Serala and Moxi, who were both still dressed in their pajamas, sat on the couch together. 

“Merry Midwinter!” the two demons replied. 

John Rey looked around the room. “Where’s my roomie?” 

“Oh, Talia is in the kitchen finishing up breakfast,” Serala said. 

“Got it. So she isn’t ready for presents yet?”

Serala nodded. 

Talia peeked out of the kitchen. “I can hear you. Stop being weird when you talk about me. Just call me whatever. Also, I finished the pancakes. Does anyone want eggs with it?”

“Yes, but make them later.” John Rey shook the paper bags in his hands. “Presents first!”

“Fiiiine,” Talia said with feigned annoyance as she slithered into the room. “I still am figuring out what to give Moxi.”

“If you promise to go thrifting with me, we can worry about each other’s presents then,” Moxi offered. 

“Sure, works for me.”

The three gathered around the couch. 

“Okay, check out your presents.” John Rey held out a paper bag to each of them. 

Serala pulled a black crochet beanie out of her bag. “Oh cute!”

“Wait, flip up the end and see what I put.”

Serala turned over the edge of the beanie, where “Serala” was written in blue letters. “Awwww, thank you!”

Moxi pulled out a white beanie with “Moxi” written on it in red. “This is so sweet, John Rey.”

“No problem,” he said. “They were fun to make.”

Talia pulled out a dark green beanie. 

“Oh good, I was able to match the beanie to your skin. I did this one last night after you transformed.”

Talia nodded and checked the writing: “Dude.”

“I, uh… wasn't sure what to put. But you kept saying you want people to just treat you the same, so if you’re cool with still being my ‘dude’ then…”

“Hell yeah I’m cool with it.” Talia raised her hand for a fist bump. 

“Nice.” John Rey completed the fist bump. “I’ll make another one that says Talia, though.”

Talia smiled. “Thanks. By the way, guess what your present is?”

“What?”

“I’m giving you all my fuzzy pajama pants.”

“Dude, no way!”

“And any other pants you want. But I know pajama pants are your favorite.”

“Dude!” John Ray tackled Talia into a hug. “Thank you!”

“Of course, of course. But you’re gonna have to let me go so I can get Serala’s present from the kitchen.”

“Oh! My gift is also in the kitchen.”

The two scurried into the kitchen. 

“I feel bad now,” Moxi said. “I didn’t really know how to improvise a gift on the spot.”

“Hey, it’s all good, friendo,” John Rey said. “I’m just happy to be spending Midwinter with you all.”

---

In the kitchen, Talia raised herself as high as her tail would let her and grabbed a cook book off the shelf. 

“The one nice thing I do is cook for people, so…” She held out the cookbook. “I thought if I was going to try to be friends again, this is maybe the nicest thing I can offer.”

Serala hesitated. “Didn’t you make this with your mom? This feels too important.”

“Yeah, well, you’re important, too. Besides, I copied all the recipes down and put them on my computer last year. It’s doing more in someone new’s hands than in mine.”

Serala took the cookbook with two of her arms then used the other two to hug her friend. “Thank you, Talia!”

“It’s whate—er, I mean, no problem.” Talia returned the hug. “So what is your present?”

“Oh, um, it’s kind of lame…” 

Serala tucked the cookbook under her upper left arm then grabbed a wide plastic container with her two lower arms. Then with her last arm she pulled the lid off. 

Inside were four cookies. Talia recognized the general shape being was made by a human-shaped cookie cutter John Rey owned. But extra dough was used to personalize them. 

The one furthest to the right simply had wavy hair added to it and a dinosaur drawn on the chest. 

The one on the opposite side had two curled horns and a spaded tail. There was lots of red frosting covering it, save for a blue heart at its center. 

In the middle was one with four arms. As an inverse to the red one next to it, it was covered in blue frosting with a red heart in the center. 

And finally, the other middle cookie had its legs replaced with a long tail covered in green frosting. And on its chest was a festival candelabra drawn in blue frosting. 

All four had cute smiley faces drawn on them in white frosting, and their hands were fused to each other from baking so close by. 

“It seemed cooler in my head, but they’re, uh… friendship cookies,” Serala explained. 

“Is that why the hands are connected?” Talia asked. 

“No! That was an accident…”

“Well, they’re still cool!” Talia held out a fist.

Serala beamed. She returned the fist bumped her, and then both demon girl’s hands mimicked an explosion—cheesy explosion sounds and all. 

---

Serala and Talia returned to the living room. 

Serala sheepishly presented the friendship cookies to her partner and new friend. 

“Yoooo, that’s so cool!” John Rey immediately reached for his. 

“Wait!” Moxi grabbed her phone off the couch. “Let me take a picture.”

“My b.” He looked over the cookies then pointed at Talia’s. “Dude, it’s still registering for me that you’re like half-snake, half-man now.”

“Those aren’t the words I’d use…” Talia said. 

“Sorry, you’re a half-snake, half-woman now.”

“Actually, I was going to say I’m a snake demon.”

Moxi looked up from the pictures they were taking. “Finally not ashamed of it?”

Talia shrugged. “Maybe. I’m trying not to be.”

“I’m glad. It’ll get easier with time.” They looked over the photos of the cookies. “This is cute, but you know what’d asp be nice? If we took a picture together holding hands in the same order.”

“Oh that’d make such a cute post on Instagram!” Serala said as the group shuffled into position. “Wait, Talia, are you okay with it being posted?”

Talia shrugged. “I never care. Oh wait! I should, uh, probably change my name and make a post before you tag me or anything. And I should call my parents. And maybe my professors. Oh fuck…”

Serala put a hand on Talia’s back. “It’s okay. Just do one thing at a time. But you should enjoy the holiday first. We have one more night in the Festival of Lights.”

“You’re staying?”

“Might as well. Besides, I haven’t gotten a turn lighting the candles yet.”

“Okay, I think I got my phone to balance at an okay angle here on the table,” Moxi said. “It’s gonna snap in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, …”

“Say Merry Midwinter!” John Rey called out. 

“MERRY MIDWINTER!”

Click. 

And captured forever in that photo was Talia, with her best friend to her left and her childhood best friend on her right, giving the first genuine smile she’d ever made for a picture.

 

I wrote this as a gift to a friend who wanted a trans demon holiday story, but I was very happy to be given the freedom to write a definitely-not-Hanukkah story about the themes I wanted.

If you'd like to read more, check out my scribblehub profile!

— BaronessZen

 

Santa's Secret Transfic Anthology Vol. 2 / Holiday Treats #8

Follow to catch Starship Shell on May 11th

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