literature

Biblical: Angel and Demon TF

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Literature Text

Biblical

Angel and Demoness TF


“You aren’t holding your flashlight steady,” Mary muttered.

“You aren’t moving yours around enough,” Amy shot back playfully.  “How do you expect to find anything?”

“How do you expect to not fall over?  You must be poorly balanced already, with those implants.”

How dare you?!  These are all natural!  You’re just jealous.”

“Skank.”

“Prude!”  Anybody who knew archaeologists Mary Cain and Amy Belle would say they looked like twins.  They had the same dark, straight hair, the same heart-shaped face and high cheekbones, the same small nose and knowing smile.  Mary and Amy themselves only acknowledged that they fought like siblings.

Mary prided herself on being just as good as any male archaeologist, and always dressed conservatively, determined to make her way through life on skill and talent.  Amy was more of a realist, and on the long road from starting out as a little girl who watched Raiders of the Lost Ark and wanted to be Indy when she grew up, she had decided that her ‘assets’ were just that - assets to her progress, to use as she pleased.  Accordingly, she wore her khaki jacket with an extra button or two open, wore her shortest shorts whenever the opportunity presented itself, and (if you asked Mary) even slept with her mentor and/or her professor.  Whatever their methods, they had both become field archaeologists before their thirtieth birthday (working under a more experienced mentor, for the time being).  Now they were investigating ruins outside of what was formerly Constantinople, but now went by Istanbul.  While Dr. Leped, who headed the expedition, took the field guide with him in one ruin, he sent them into the other, smaller one - which proved how oblivious he was the people around him.

“Look,” Amy finally sighed, “I think we need to work together for now.  We can’t let that clueless old greybeard show us up this time.  Truce, so we can find something really neat?”

“Truce,” Mary agreed with a small nod.

Yeah right.

Almost as one their flashlights fell upon the most beautiful artifact either had ever beheld.  It was a large cross of worn black stone, thick and heavy-looking, inlaid with gold and silver in intricate patterns, and decorated with emeralds and sapphires.  At the center of the cross, a huge, symmetrical ruby positively shone in the flashlight beams, reflecting a red glow on the rest of the ruin, and on the two.  It was the wealth and faith of Byzantium made solid.  It didn’t matter that everything around it was ruined and ransacked, yet it was left untouched.  It didn’t matter that the patterns weren’t quite right for Roman or Byzantine artifacts.  They each needed to claim it as their own.

“Yaahh!”  They each ran to the cross.  Mary slapped her hand down on the short end at the same time Amy did so for the long
end.  “It’s mine!”  Amy yelled.  “My flashlight revealed it first!”

“I touched it first, the discovery belongs to me!” Mary argued, pulling on the horizontal arms of the cross.  Surprisingly, it only seemed to weigh a few pounds and was easily hoisted into the air.

“That’s the flimsiest reasoning I’ve ever heard, you bitch!” Amy spat as she tightened her grip on the bottom of the cross, starting a tug-of-war.  Neither noticed the ruby was still glowing despite the fact that no light played off it.

“Whore!”

“PRUDE!”  

Red lightning began to issue forth from the ruby.  This they noticed, although they both kept pulling.  The lightning enveloped both of them, and suddenly they were the ones glowing. They both gasped, but the aura stole their voices away.

Without warning, a scaly, serpentine crimson tail burst from the seat of Amy’s pants, short and whip-like at first, but quickly growing longer and thicker.  Stranger yet, her clothes began to turn to mist, dissolving outward from the tail.  Her dark hair lengthened, turned strawberry blonde, and began to curl at the ends.  Bulges formed behind her shoulders, straining a shirt that was already not long for this world.  Her face blanked, the emotion flowing away… and then crimson flames began to pour outward from her eyes.

Meanwhile, Mary’s clothes also began to fade into mist, although her sleeves and shoes began to change instead of vanishing entirely.  Her rough skin, neglected in favor of her work and manhandled by the harsh environment, became smooth and flawless.  Bulges began to form in the disappearing back of her shirt as well, even larger than Amy‘s.  Her hair lengthened, too, but stayed straight and lightened to a platinum blonde.  A beautiful expression of serene calm took hold of her face, before cleansing white flames began to issue from her own eyes.  As the receding border of Mary’s clothing reached the shoulder bulges, a pair of radiant white-feathered wings, still growing, burst free of her jacket and spread themselves, flanking her.

Less than a second later, a similar tear allowed Amy’s wings to free themselves, but these were imposing monstrous wings, with a tattered, yellow, bat-like membrane stretched between long, crimson-scaled
‘fingers’.  A curved, yellowed claw stretched up from the tops of the wings, a grotesque parody of ‘two thumbs up’.  As her clothes disappeared, the crimson scales spread themselves across Amy’s skin, although room was left on her front for wide yellow belly scales.  They clustered up to create spiky growths on her arms and tail.  Her tail continued to lengthen, coiling on the floor, and as it did, her legs began to shrink and waste away, no longer necessary for locomotion.  When the scales reached her hands, her fingernails melted away, quickly replaced by delicate but lethal curved claws.  When they reached her forehead, a pair of strong, sweeping horns slowly curved their way up and back.

Now they both floated into the air, their wings barely beating, Amy’s new tail trailing lazily behind her.  The cross, no longer tightly gripped, levitated with them, floating between and just below where they hovered.  They circled the room, opposite each other and unblinking, in a kind of arcane dance.  As the red aura around Amy darkened to crimson, the aura around Mary in turn paled until it was a golden white.

Mary was now complete, who she was always meant to be.  Her great wings, white with a hint of gold, filled the room as they gently moved back and forth.  Her hair blew beautifully in a nonexistent wind, framing her graceful face.  Her delicate, pale skin knew no blemishes, no imperfections.  She wore nothing except for Roman sandals and golden bracelets; the female body was one of God’s greatest works of art, nothing to be ashamed of exposing.  Just by basking in her aura, the kind and virtuous would feel braver, stronger, happier, and healthier.

Amy was now complete, who she was always meant to be.  Her dark wings framed the body of a vile succubus, the ultimate temptress.  Her hair, hanging down, was alluringly beautiful, and it drew attention to the most ‘important’ parts of her body.  The red and yellow scales covered her completely, yet didn’t detract from her perverse magnificence.  The scales on her ample breasts and perfect curves were perfectly arranged so as to make them even more tempting.  She was entirely naked; the better to tempt the weak-willed.  The strongest of men could be claimed by her advances in a matter of minutes; the weak didn’t stand a chance.

“Foul demoness,” Mary sang out.  “You may not have this relic.  It belongs in heaven, with God and His kind.  Retreat, or you shall be destroyed.”

“Arrogant whelp,” Amy snarled in reply.  “I laid claim to the artifact first!  It is MINE to defile as I see fit, to increase my own powers!”

“If you wish to dig your own grave, then so be it,” the angel replied solemnly.  In the blink on an eye, her bracelets had spread into a suit of shining golden armor, inscribed with holy runes.  In another blink, a glowing greatsword with a cross-shaped hilt was gripped expertly in her right hand, more runes etched into the blade.

“I shall enjoy rending you limb from limb,” the demoness growled.  Smoke from the flames that danced around her covered her upper body and the back of her tail, coalescing into ornate, spiked black armor.  She pulled the flames into her hand, and they solidified into a massive two-pronged fork, a bident with a golden horseshoe-shaped blade and blood-red handle.  “BURN!”  She powered her body towards the angel, the bident pulled back to strike.

---

Did the angel emerge victorious?  Did the demon win?  That remains unclear.  Soon after, the ruin collapsed.   Dr. Leped called in a rescue party, but their desperate search yielded no bodies, only an ornately decorated cross with a curious dead black stone in the center.
A pair of female archaeologists find a rare artifact, and while arguing over it, promptly transform into an angel and a demon. A short story for all you mythological TF fans out there.

It's meant to go with a request :icondragon-storm: was nice enough to do for me. They turned out a little different, (switched weapons; his demon has different hair color and no wings, etc.) but that's fine with me. It was quite a well-done sketch, go check it out here: [link]

Critique is always encouraged, but never demanded. I want to know how I can improve for you all.
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