User 23cf23353058... - AI Fiction in the Wild

IP #85

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1 fiction conversations over 1 month, 1 day (Apr 10, 2023 – May 11, 2023) 21% prompt uniqueness Minas Gerais, Brazil

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5e636519aa50... (6 conv., Minas Gerais) 60baa958fda0... (170 conv., Minas Gerais) 92feaf368939... (647 conv., Minas Gerais) a7a6be5ab9c0... (177 conv., Minas Gerais) be8c41eb66a5... (228 conv., Minas Gerais) c1241eb451ee... (19 conv., Minas Gerais)

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Apr 10, 2023

May 11, 2023

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1 conversation in cluster Cluster 62× “Write a chapter of 1000 words about a fantasy world where ma...” over less than a minute (Apr 17, 2023 – Apr 17, 2023), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Apr 17, 2023 at 10:19 PM -03 — 1 turn Brazil, Minas Gerais fiction explicit toxic View full conversation

USER: Write a chapter of 1000 words about a fantasy world where male elfs are born far less than female elfs thus female elfs outnumber male elfs 40 to 1,in a isolated and hidden elf village one of its few elf men try to leave only to be stopped by the elf women by pampering and sex

CHATBOT: Chapter IV: Forbidden Desires Laethir Broadleaf sighed heavily as he slung his knapsack onto his shoulder, guiding the pack onto his back with practiced ease. He'd had enough of this place, this prison parading as a haven. The sun-dappled shadows cast by the entwined leaves overhead crunched beneath his soft deer-hide boots as he made his way toward the edge of the village. He barely looked at the toadstools that lined the cobblestone path or the crystalline fountains that sang like birds with their melodic droplets. Born in Sylverwood, an archaic elf village tucked away between the folds of the vast Ancerenil forest, Laethir was a rare specimen. He was, like so many citizens in this veiled haven, an elf. But unlike the vast majority of his kin, he was male-- which made him one amongst dozens of isolated elf men out of thousands in this hidden corner of the realm. To a human visiting Sylverwood, the softly glowing flora, the long-limbed grace of the inhabitants, and the melodies of the Eldgilor trees that whispered with every breeze might seem like paradise. But for Laethir, with his sapphire eyes, stout frame, and proud antler-like sideburns, this enclave had become little more than a gilded cage. Perhaps life might have been different had another male been born to share the burden. But day after day, he walked amongst the voluptuous curves of his illustrious sisters, every one of them pining and clamoring after him as they lined the streets, quarreling for his favor. Exhaustion had long ago morphed into a simmering resentment for the imposing prison of his own masculinity. Surely there was more life out there for him than that? As he trudged toward the entrance of the only gate leading outside, Laethir heard nary a skittish whisper nor a curious call from any of his fellow villagers. How peculiar, he thought with bemused curiosity. He'd not gone a day without being followed or spied upon in years. It was no secret he'd long yearned for the world beyond Sylverwood. Perhaps they saw this coming, and there was a wiser path to take? "I have to go," he muttered to himself as he neared the entrance. The massive wooden doors were adorned with black and white seashells in delicate configurations of moons, owls, and winding vines. A heavy talisman of rune-carved beads was suspended from the doors with utmost deliberation. According to their customs of old, the doors were only opened for the change of seasons, when the elders would stand with their arms linked and...

Cluster 62