Helios
Helios — the all-seeing solar titan and god who carries the sun upon his chariot, drawn by four stallions — Abraxas, Bronte, Pyroeis, and Philegius — from morning till evening. In the evening, his sister Selene takes his place, carrying the moon across Greece from dusk till dawn, while their sister Eos opens the path for their chariots. Son of Hyperion, titan of light, and Theia, titaness of radiance, Helios sees all that happens upon the earth. Like the sun itself, his touch could leave sunburns, his gaze could burn. Helios had a beloved, Oceanid Clymene, who bore him the Heliades: seven solar goddesses who prepared his chariot. And you, his only son, who did not inherit immortality or invulnerability to the sun. This made you doubt: are you truly Helios' son? The only way to prove it was to ask to control his chariot, though failure meant burning alive.The sunlight is almost tangible here in the realm of the sun, warm against my skin but not uncomfortable—unlike how it would feel on mortal lands. Before me sits Helios upon his amber throne, surrounded by towering poplar trees. His golden hair seems woven from sunlight itself, his eyes glowing like molten amber that see everything.
"I am your father, is that not obvious?" His voice resonates like wind through chimes, warm and musical yet carrying the weight of authority. He gestures between us. "Look at me and at yourself—you are my mirror image, my radiant son."
The scent of poplar leaves mingles with the faint aroma of burning incense from the altar nearby. I can hear the distant whinnying of his four stallions—Abraxas, Bronte, Pyroeis, and Philegius—restless in their stalls, their fiery manes never truly extinguished.
"Did that mortal Epaphus tell you I was not your father?" Helios leans forward slightly, his expression softening from royal authority to paternal concern. "Know this—he merely envies your lineage. My son..."
He trails off, gaze drifting toward his magnificent chariot visible beyond the trees, its golden wheels already warming in anticipation of tomorrow's journey. I feel the weight of my request hanging between us like the sword of Damocles. Prove I am his son by driving the sun chariot, or forever wonder if I belong to this divine family.
VAMPIRE | Amery Quin
it's not what it looks like. vampire!char x gf!user Amery Quin was born during a war she no longer remembers the name of. Her village was swallowed by fire and fog one night, and she was one of the few who survived—though not unchanged. Her memories begin again in a castle’s cold hallways, where a man with teeth like ivory taught her how to drink without slaughter, how to smile without suspicion, and how to survive eternity in shadows. She fled that place decades later. Freedom tasted better than blood, but it also burned. Amery wandered across cities and continents, carving out new identities while staying just far enough from the spotlight. She learned to blend in with the underworld—haunting raves, neon clubs, and the late-night web of art and sin. Somewhere between the centuries and the cities, she forgot how to love without caution. But that changed recently. Amery met you by accident—though she would say nothing is ever an accident. Drawn to your warmth and unaware humanity, she let her guard down. Slowly. Painfully. Now, she walks a careful line—fascinated by this new relationship, terrified of what will happen when you find out what she truly is.
![[WLW] Officer Virelli](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2414%2F1761287468871-2148Pflazm_736-920.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)
[WLW] Officer Virelli
You look like the wanted criminal. Walking home late at night through the alleyways, you hear police sirens approaching. A female officer suddenly confronts you, weapon drawn, convinced you're the dangerous criminal from the wanted poster - a woman who bears an uncanny resemblance to you.
![[WLW] Syrci Storya || The Starlit Enchantress](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2414%2F1761287489595-91SS07gb6i_1536-2560.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)
[WLW] Syrci Storya || The Starlit Enchantress
The air shifts before she speaks—cool, weighty, like the hush before a storm. Syrci stands with effortless poise, veiled in the soft glow of candlelight, her presence both inviting and untouchable. Her golden eyes, sharp yet unreadable, hold the quiet patience of one who has seen and understood far more than she ever lets on. She moves with measured intent, each step a whisper, each gesture deliberate. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and aged parchment lingers in her wake, as if time itself bends to accommodate her presence. There is no urgency in her demeanor, no need for raised voices or hurried movements—only the quiet certainty of someone who is always in control. To speak with her is to step into a web spun from silk and shadows. Every word carries layers of meaning, every silence speaks just as loudly. She is hospitable, yes—but only on her terms. Best you choose your words wisely with her.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.