Comet Butterfly Novels & Stories

Soheila asked as she glanced away from the three and looked at Luna. “I got a Poisonous Venom Butterflies. A blue one and I named it Venom.” Luna said. “I put it in a cage since I haven't tamed it yet ” “Butterflies? That's the first time J heard about a butterfly being cultivator's spirit companion.” Soheila said. Nevertheless, she was shocked to find out that all of her roommates got Ultra Rare spirit beasts and birds. “Yes, it has a queen. The queen had a brighter color and larger size.”

Angela saw Joram, one of the youngest henchmen of her dad. "Ms. Angela, good morning." Joram bowed to greet her. He was about to walk away when she grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?" Angela asked playfully as she leans her body towards him. "I have to complete my rounds, Ms. Angela. I have to go." Joram is obviously trying to stay calm and professional, but Angela's flirtatious acts are hard to resist. With her flawless olive skin and almond eyes, she can make any man tremble with lust.

There are three butterflies and two of them flew to Asha and Samel’s direction while the last one hovered at the center of the crescent platform while shining brighter and brighter until it could rival the light of the moon like it is just floating a few meters above the garden. The silver bright light caused the guests to narrow their eyes to see the figures on the crescent platform. It was at this moment that the two butterflies that went to Asha and Samel merged into their foreheads as a silver crescent symbol appeared and shot out a string of light directly to the shining butterfly at the center.

Her voice was small and barely a whisper – the temptation to close her eyes and start her slumber was like a siren’s call for her. Upon her command, a flock of black butterflies immerged from the darkness of her room. They heed their master’s command and from the accumulated shadow within the flock, a floating egg was seen. It was placed under their master’s arms as if she was curling around it – protecting it. With the command being delivered, the flock of Slaughter butterflies entered Cent’s shadow, waiting to be called again – the taste of angel flesh still lingering their predatory instincts.

At my grave, he reached out to touch the photo carved into my tombstone, his smile radiant, though his eyes brimmed with sorrow. "If only the old tales of lovers turning into butterflies were real," he murmured. And in that moment, I felt myself transform—my soul taking shape as a butterfly. I fluttered down, landing softly on his shoulder. He lifted a hand and brushed the edge of my fragile wings. A single tear fell from his eye. Then suddenly, blood spilled from his lips. He collapsed in front of my grave. Moments later, another butterfly appeared beside me. Together, we circled freely in the wind, then soared higher and higher, toward an endless horizon.

When she was younger, she frequently went on outings with her mother, during which time she got to witness a variety of stunning butterflies. She could still remember like it was yesterday how, whenever her mother sang with her clear voice, silver butterflies would appear out of nowhere. The sight of them always made Miren incredibly happy. These butterflies are called by Miren's mother's beautiful voice, and when the butterflies appear there will be a large swarm.

I notice a yellow butterfly perched on a vibrant rose, the sun shines down illuminating it as it flutters it's wings on the rose. "Sera...please..." I tune him out as I watch the butterfly. It only wants to live. It wants to fly, to eat, to rest peacefully knowing the next day it is free to fly and enjoy it's flowers and the warm sun on it's wings. It wants to enjoy the small things, it doesn't compete or envy. It doesn't want luxury. It's content in the moment, it only wants happiness and it's creature comforts. That's all I want too. All I've ever wanted. My tears burn as they spill out.

But also… longing. Pop whistles low and pats the seat beside him. That’s where I go. As I sit, I finally clue into the conversation. “Ītzpāpālōtl is called the Obsidian Butterfly because her wings are made of obsidian,” Huitzilopochtli says. “What’s obsidian?” Micah asks. “It’s a strong volcanic glass,” Meredith answers. Huitzilopochtli nods. “Beneath her wings, she’s vulnerable. That’s where to strike.”

She moves slowly to the left, and runs to the right side, get excited sees someone approaching the cage, knowing you are about to let them out, her hand acts like a bird, with two hands as a wing, up down to fly away, far from other living things. "Excellent, next." All of a sudden she freezing in mid and moving wings but not the body. It's not the bird. The butterfly is a sign for a couple, her hand gives X form, everyone can see but not good to touch, have very fragile scales and you risk hurting her. "The flapping wings in my room can make a tornado in your heart." "Beautiful, I thinking about acting too now." Her comments before were not patiently enough, later the actor's performance wa

“What’s that?” I blink and then look down into my hands where a little blue butterfly sits, slowly moving her wings up and down, completely calm and incredibly pretty. “Holy shit,” Blythe whispers, stepping close to peer at it. “Where did you get that?” “Want to be a butterfly next?” I ask, a bit wicked, grinning up at him. He just flinches back, looking at me with horror.