Optimus Prime Wings Novels & Stories

When Sirus opened it, only to reveal a large pair of wings. The wingspan was about three meters, fierce and colorful. Sirus took down the wings, a hint of pride in his eyes. “These wings were made from the feathers of the Heavenly Fiend Phoenix. Once refined and merged, you can use it by channeling your immortal essence. It can fly several hundred miles with a single flap and is an exceptional treasure for flight. Now...”

the Emperor said. His voice carried enough pressure to crush bone. He didn’t even raise his hands—he commanded the entire court with a single shift of his wings. The great, dark spans stayed absolutely still, a faint rustle of bone against velvet the only sound. They didn’t look like wings meant for flight—they looked like towering shields of midnight, curved inward as if any defiance would be crushed beneath them. The room froze. It was the first time anyone had ever seen the Emperor reveal his wings. Rumors had long spread that he was defective, that he had no wings at all—that he banned others from showing theirs to hide his shame. But there they were: a powerful, unique pair of black win

I turned my gaze as he stripped off his shirt and pants. The sound of bones breaking filled the air. A loud thud was the only signal I needed to know I could look up. I stared at Ophir in awe. At night it was hard to see how truly magnificent he was. His wings could easily stretch across our training field. Two claws sat on the peaks of both wings. His scales were as black as the night sky. His black horns on top of his head pointed backwards more and stuck out the sides of his lower jaw. Spikes poked out of his chin, and some ran up each of his legs. The scales of his wings looked like feathers. He laid on the ground tucking his wings beside him. His black claws dug into the dark earth.

His complexion was a little darker as if he had bathed in the sun for far too long. The wings on the man’s back weren’t like the wings of a bird; they were metal-skeletal and lacked feathers. If not for the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt, I would have guessed that the wings were manufactured. When the man folded the wings behind him, I could see his muscles ripple with the movement. “Didn’t you crawl under a rock somewhere?” The man asked Xureus. Xureus didn’t answer immediately. Since I wasn’t sure if there would be a battle today, I joined Hunter and Xureus off the porch. My brothers followed, as did Caleb, but he took a protective stance in front of me.

“Are you my boyfriend or my bodyguard?” He held his ring in front of me, my eyes were magnetized by the intricate carvings on it. “Guardian angel, remember?” He straightened up on his seat, and in a louder than necessary voice, he said, “And unlike the last one you had, I have a sword, not a halo. And my wings are black, not white. It’s time they realized who they will have a problem with the next time they hurt even a single hair in your body!” My eyes widened at him. He took my hand in his again, and then he bent down to kiss my fingers once again. “I love you, angel.” He didn’t even whisper that. I was sure many people around us heard everything he said.

Flying is the absolute shit. After some time, I see the clearing Ares was talking about. I think it’s a great spot. Although I have no idea how big we even are and if it will fit. I would love to look at our reflection somehow. All I can see are my wings and my long ass tail, which looks like a complete weapon on its own. And I love the color of our fu… scales. It looks like an actual armor.

“Your wings are residual magic’s; imitating the rooster wings I conjured on my person during my captivity, in mockery of my genes as the men in long white coats would say, unlike mine it cannot simply be removed with a wave of hand because it has been imbued in you since birth, but still they are made entirely of hardened lightening, and can be temporarily dispersed like ozone matter if you concentrate enough.’’ On saying this, he proceeded in teaching them, the shock on their faces were comical as they gaped at each other, looking strangely different without their wings, it was like it was there but at the same time not there, despite the wings absent, Omotola could feel them stirring at he

the Primal voice inside me roared. Pain exploded between my shoulder blades—a searing, tearing heat that made me scream into the wind. But the scream wasn't one of agony; it was a battle cry. From my back, two massive structures erupted. They weren't feathered like a bird’s or leathery like a bat’s. They were wings made of obsidian thorns and shimmering violet light. Every "feather" was a razor-sharp leaf forged from Malachi’s shadows and my own life force.

"It’s staying alive with them, right? " "Do you want to make it come true? I’ll help you then." "Please, help me." "All right, but just this once. You have to figure it out by yourself next time." "Understood." The right wing of his is glowing white and turning into a big white fluffy wing. It envelopes Kartika, Herman, and Varz’s bodies. It lets it go, and they seem to be fine. The trio opens their eyes and they are surprised to see Alfi having a black wing on his left and a white wing on his right.

[Carnelia] The first time we flew together, I was terrified, screaming, and tied to a cart. The last time we flew together, we were falling, both of us injured and broken when we reached the bottom. This time we are soaring. Primus is in his usual form, a creature somewhere in between a drake and a man, holding me tightly against his chest. We are gliding on the wind as his wings hold us both aloft as we head away from Crimson and head down the coast. Whatever fear I might have felt at flying has completely disappeared as the sound of his wings and the beating of his heart so close to my own brings me peace.