Transformers Wings Novels & Stories

Horns curved back from his skull, dark and ridged, cutting through the air as they formed, framing a head that no longer resembled anything human, casting warped shadows across the chamber walls like something crowned in ruin. His wings. Not the broken ones he had forced back. New ones. They tore free from his back in a violent, explosive surge, larger, heavier, their structure thicker and more resilient, the membranes stretched between them darker, veined with a faint, molten glow that pulsed faintly beneath the surface as they expanded fully, filling the chamber with their span, the air shuddering under the displacement. This time, they held.

My eyes watered just staring at them. He lifted up from me, placing his hands on his waist and trying to strike a pose. He looked majestic, like a god. "What do you think, huh? Wanna do it with my wings out? That's very kinky of you, Cross-" His wings fluttered with great winds- Wings… Two… wings? "Why do you have two?” A/N: I'm back.

Light exploded from my body, blinding white and pure gold mixing together in waves of power that made the air itself sing. Mom's hand found mine as wings of light spread from my shoulders, filling the tiny cell with their radiance. Time to fly. The wings weren't like anything I'd seen before. Not feathered like traditional angel wings. Not bat-like, like demon wings. These were pure energy, translucent and opalescent, shifting between gold and white with every pulse of power. “Impossible,” Azrael's voice came through the door again. “The dampening fields…” My power answered him, shattering every suppression device built into the walls. Pieces of tech rained down around us as the wings grew s

I know what I must do, what we all must do. To my left, Akin stands tall, his obsidian wings sharp and sleek, the wind tugging at his tunic as his eyes sweep the battlefield like a soldier gauging his next strike. To my right, River’s wings are the color of deep, angry storms. They shift with energy, crackling faintly as his fists curl at his sides. The fire in him burns steady now, no longer a threat but a force I can trust.

I should have run. She laughs, short and hard. “Oh, the look on your face! You all assume the same thing. No wings, but enough like the dragons to make us illusionists. The qualifications for becoming one of those monster’s soldiers, a hunter. That was the first word that popped into your head, wasn’t it?” She takes a step forward and my wings quiver with the urge to jump back. But hunters have ways to keep those with wings grounded. “Well, you’d be half right.” Her grin grows. “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice a pathetic squeak. “Half right?”

“Me too, I don't like seeing me this way.” He went to my window and opened it fully. As he stood, I saw something I had never seen before. With his upper body outside the window, he brought out his wings. Man, they were huge. They weren't made of feather but rather of meat, I guessed. Kind of similar to a bat's wing, only way cuter….and way, way, way bigger. “Come with me, you will love it.” “Come with you where? Nah, pretty huge wings but I'll pass.”

I have never seen such beautiful wings in my entire life. His crimson-red wings are described as metallic with each feather sharp like a precision blade. Each feather/blade has the top part crimson with the hairs or fibres sticking out of the sides, while the end of the blade itself is black. I really envy him. Why does he have to have such beautiful wings? Why is mine not like his? I cried in my mind and again looked up at him. He was waiting for me to go up. So I spread my wings too and flew up to complete the rest of the fight.

I see the scatter of people below fall to their knees in submission. He lowers his head and I see his wings begin to shrink, the scales down his back glittering magnificently, and I watch as his wings retract into his back and the large gashes where his wings once were close up. His scales disappear, simply leaving the imprint that is usually there.

Calvin certainly warranted it. How dare this bitch come into my domain and declare war! She would be another exception. I have never consumed a Vessel, but I wanted, and needed, to consume her. I released a high-pitched whistle, calling my children to me. Seven of them showed up. Four of them were in their first form with their wings out. Our wings were just like serrated blades – dangerous, lethal, and the perfect weapons. The remaining three of them were in their second form, essentially making them tanks. They were far more durable in this form but did not have the same agility as the first form.

He took great care not to touch its wings as he tried to help it take flight once more. Damascus quietly whispered words of encouragement as it flapped it wings. The dove stopped and looked up at him as if it understood everything he had been saying. Damascus stopped talking and stared back at it. Suddenly the dove flapped its wings and left the cradle of his hands. It flew up and hovered for a moment. As if silently thanking him.