Red Butterfly Wings Novels & Stories

Shelley stands, gazing at her brother's frames, running her fingers over the glass which protects its bejewelled occupants. Captives? Prisoners? A tomb.... She reads the labels: Hesperiidae.... Lycaenidae.... Riodinidae.... Gossamer wings, some in metallic blues and golds, other copper or burnished orange, some almost transparent, others in a green which rivals the glorious eyes of the watcher. All rest there, neatly pinned, displayed, categorised and named. "Don't touch the frames, Shelley. You'll get fingerprints on the glass, then I'll have to clean them again."

I turned to the looking glass again to examine my new appendages. There were two pairs. The higher set was significantly larger, and bat-like in shape, with curly black thumbs. Between the black fingers there was leathery webbing, marked with a pattern like that of a common rose butterfly’s wings—alternating stripes of black and grey, with scattered red dots in the corners. The lower, smaller pair of wings had tails like those of a swallowtail, and they conformed to the same pattern, except red spots ran more plentifully down their sides. “I’ve never seen wings like these,” said Salem, gaping in awe. “You really are like something from a fairy tale.”

"But don't worry, since your life is presently in my hands, we aren't lost yet." Arian scoffed and jumped over too and they continued walking. "O.M.G!" Natalia suddenly squeaked. "It's a white butterfly!" She excitedly moved over to where it was feeding on a flower. "Yay." The hot French muttered dryly. Arian didn't know, but in Astheria white butterflies were the rarest and most significant butterflies in the Empire. "Take a picture of us!" She ordered and tossed him her digital camera. He reluctantly took a photo and returned it after much fussing.

I was unsure if it would be towards him, or away. “Mate.” I heard her say. Her eyes lite up, her wings appearing from her back. The sight of her was blinding. Her blue dress shimmered as her wings stood tall behind her shoulders. Her wings began to grow longer. They were now brushing the back of her calf. Renard came walking over at light speed. He took her hand in his raising it in the air. His wings appeared mimicking Helga’s. There was a tornado of colors swirling around them. Her blue and his red, not blending together as mine and my men. The colors died down, accepting each other.

I tried to explain with the best of my capabilities but if there are still others who don't understand it and haven't read the sequels, I humbly request to just check the wiki since they have a larger context base. The title of the most beautiful spirit beast of the continent goes to an insect spirit beast named Bright Goddess Butterfly. Its size depends on its cultivation. Greater the cultivation, larger the size. Its carapace is glowing white in color as if the most central location of a fire. The glow released from the white carapace makes its luminescent blue wings with constantly changing dark-blue patterns on the surface and the golden lining on the edge of the wings stand out further.

I smile against her, and when she pulls away, her wings break out behind her, flicking specks of blood to the ground. I throw Isaac over my shoulder, extend my own wings, and we take off into the sky. I glance over at Aurora, who is staring around wide eyed as she flies through the air at a breathtaking speed. She has a lot of anxiety, but when she gets past it, her joy is contagious. She was terrified to fly, but now she seems to be getting a thrill out of it. Her wings are amazing. Vampire wings are solid black, but hers have some red and white feathers mixed in between all the black ones. I’d assume the white is because of her hair and the red because of her eye. Whatever the reason for i

It had been a long time since he had felt this happy, his cheerful mood made his appearance a lot more gentle than usual. The window was opened, and inside could be seen a stunning silver butterfly making its way in. Its body was covered in chalk dust, which sparkled and fluttered in time to the beat of its wings; while it was in the air, it wobbled a few times before softly landing in Drake's hand. This silver butterfly appears to be quite close to Drake, as evidenced by the fact that it is actively flapping its wings in response to the presence of Drake. Drake began by petting the silver butterfly before asking it a question.

The circle that had a butterfly pattern continued to lit up and the butterfly's wings were fluttering. As her father continued the mantra, she noticed that the light of the pattern switched from light blue to light purple from time to time. When Sebastian started his mantra while her father continued, the purple hue became much stronger than the blue. It almost devoured the blue hue but her father's mantra became a bit loud that the blue hue prevailed and balanced the blue and purple.

In front of her was the field of flowers of different colors and sizes. After a while, a black butterfly flew from its hiding place at the back of roses. As the butterfly approached her, she lifted her right hand. The insect landed on her fingers. “What did you all get for me this time?” she asked the butterfly. To anyone who could witness what she was doing, they might think she had gone insane. But it wasn’t the case she was like that. She found a talent of her own when she was just a little girl. She could talk to animals, plants, and insects.

“ Katie Rose squeals, heading straight for the wings on her left. Arabella giggles, spinning to show off the wings they somehow managed to put on each other while I struggled with the right color strings and balloons. “Aren’t they pretty, mommy Nova?” “Yes, they do. Just like the ones you have at home.” ”Mommy, those are butterfly wings.“ Katie Rose slaps her head. ”And these are fairy wings.“ Arabella adds, both of them staring at me like my not knowing the difference between these pair of wings they have on are any different from the multiple ones they have in their closets. ”You're not still not getting them, you have more than thirty-“ ” Forty-one, each.“ Arabella corrects me.