Who Wrote My Immortal Novels & Stories

“My twelve guardians and holder of the Gods and Goddess. Me who is their pledge Maiden and the blessed daughter of the heavens. We will not get old, even if the years will pass by. Our age will stop at eighteen for our line is immortal, so that we can protect this world.” “Immortal.” She whispers as she gives it a deeper thought, together as she remembers the Maiden’s words that with trust and her the Maiden considers as her sister. Where the very first mortal ever knew the things outside the boundary of normal and the fact that she betrays her and turns her back to everything because of the sins that she let herself consume her. She holds the book that in detail written and describes the th

“That’s right! The Empyrean Emperor indeed said that. I was there at that time. Back then, I was just a Nascent Soul stage youngster and could only watch from hundreds of meters away, but I remember thinking it was impossible.” Others began to chime in. “Wait, does that mean that Mr. Moonshade is the one?” “Remarkable!” “Oh my goodness, if Mr. Moonshade unites the immortal, demonic, and fiend realms, what a feat that would be! It would break the norms set for tens of thousands of years!” “I-I can’t believe this...” Everyone’s attitude toward Andrius did another 180-degree turn. After all, ordinary people’s words might not be reliable, but the word of the almighty immortal was like gold.

The shocked onlookers whispered to each other cautiously. Sure enough, Drake—perhaps emboldened by Calvert's support and the gasps from the plaza's audience—stepped forward from behind Calvert. With a smirk on his face, he said, "You were just lucky. The Immortal Fate originally belonged to Gresham Fleming of Primordial Sacred Land." Even though Drake had left the Starry Sky Battlespace behind, he would never forget the scene that had made him so furious he almost spat blood.

Remiel glared at her twin, “You don’t have photos in the 10th century, Rogziel. And I haven’t seen him after that.” The boys decided to have Nae and Azrael catch up with whom Sebastián really is. As Rogziel said, he’s the First Immortal and Remy’s old flame. He’s Russian, born in the middle 900’s to the royal family of Russia, Remiel met him and have a connection. Lucifer founds out about it and thought he’ll be helping Remy out then turned him into a Damned or a human immortal. The very first one, the first human immortal. The Mark on his scapula looks like a tattoo. Why Remy chooses to leave after what happened is a story she keeps to herself that Azrael cannot barge into. The banter conti

Izfar "Phew..." Izfar sighed. He closed the world's history book that he's been reading since a few days ago and caned his chin on the windowsill. He crossed his legs. "How romantic..." He was talking about the tale of the child of the night and how they met all their Sol before they died. Some were lucky enough to live their whole life with their Sol, but most of the child of the night never gotten to live with their Sol because even though the Sol became immortal after the oath of faith and loyalty, the Sol still have a shorter lifespan from the child of the night, so they always die earlier than them.

An immortal. I’ve learnt how to decider an immortal from a mortal. It’s rather easy, to be honest. Because an immortal is the most foreign looking person you will ever see. And the man staring back at me, eyes as blank as a slate, is an immortal. I would bet my own life on it.

Ryso. “Can you really not read even the basics of the basic?” he asked as he sat across from me. I shook my head. Would I be exposed if I told him that their way of writing was just different from ours? No, no, no. I should not say that. It felt too risky to do. He never said anything and just stared at me as if I was some kind of being he had never seen before. Well, I was an immortal so it was most likely that I was the very first immortal he had ever seen.

Not a mark on me. I sat there for hours, staring at the horizon — a wasteland of melted earth and twisted steel. The sun rose again, as if mocking me for surviving what should have ended everything. My reflection in the glass wasn’t human anymore; my eyes had changed. There was something eternal behind them — not divine, not demonic — just… unending. That was the day I knew for certain — I would never die. And whatever task that voice promised me… it was gone. Centuries passed. I kept living, losing, searching.

Just trust. "You're very annoying for a goddess," I muttered. "Don't you know that when speaking to immortals, you have to be very clever? You cannot trust everything at face value." "Selfish." "As I said before, I too was once human. I want to honor my soul bond for eternity. And that being said, the entire thing isn't a lie. It was simply... inspired by a true story." "No the fuck it wasn't! Both stories I heard were complete fabrications of the truth! You did this on purpose!"

She wrote about what it had felt like the first time someone listened to her with complete attention — how it had felt like drinking water after a long thirst, and how two years later it still felt exactly like that. She wrote: I came to you with nothing and you saw something worth keeping. I plan to spend the rest of my life proving you were right about that. She wrote: I will love you in every form you take. The researcher and the exile and the man who named his fox Nothing and meant it as protection. All of them. Every day, without condition. She read it back. It was imperfect and completely honest and exactly right. She folded it, put it safely away, and went to sleep well and deeply, th