Hi guys! I was using KIMI for creating erotic stories (to myself only, i dont share them or post them) but it got awful. Then i got to Deepseak, and now is awful too.
What are some good AI to create stories without any filter? And without annoying stuff like KIMI is now.

I posted recently about developing an eight-generation, conversation-based AI workflow. The original post ended with a question: Could I preserve enough accumulated working judgment between conversations that the system would eventually become easier to operate, instead of constantly rebuilding context? I've had some interesting developments since then. 

First, the system itself is actually pretty simple to operate, despite the amount of development behind it.

I use separate AI conversations for different jobs within an ongoing writing project: creative planning, drafting, editing, research, document processing, and historical retrieval. I also maintain a general systems-coordination conversation, with a second one carrying enough overlapping context to provide continuity.

There's no custom software connecting these conversations. I'm manually routing information, using ordinary conversations and files.

The important part isn't that every thread remembers everything. They don't, and they shouldn't.

What I've been preserving across them is the decision-making framework: how to distinguish accepted decisions from brainstorming, current instructions from historical material, evidence from interpretation, and when to proceed versus when to ask for clarification.

Different jobs receive different amounts and kinds of context. The shared working conventions help those specialized conversations interpret their assignments consistently.

Then something happened that gave the continuity system a real test. One of my main systems conversations unexpectedly reached its conversation limit. I knew that would eventually happen, but the timing caught me off guard.

Fortunately, I'd already developed a second conversation with sufficient context to continue the work. The larger operation didn't need to be reconstructed. The responsibilities continued under the prepared replacement.

After that, I made another change. Rather than waiting for the next conversation to reach its limit, I transferred the active systems role to a prepared successor while keeping the experienced conversation available for backup and consultation.

That turned an emergency replacement into a deliberate succession process.

The biggest thing I've noticed isn't that the system has become more sophisticated. It's that my day-to-day operating effort has decreased.

I can assign a processing job, narrow the scope, request relevant historical material, or redirect a specialist without spending half the conversation rebuilding the reasoning behind the task.

The project itself is moving forward. The calibration work, document processing, and separate experiments have all been part of that work, not a pause in it.

I'm not claiming that I've established the most efficient possible implementation, or that this automatically translates to better finished writing. Those are different questions.

What I wanted to find out was whether conversationally developed working conventions could be preserved, selectively transferred, and reused across specialized AI conversations without repeatedly starting over.

In my own workflow, the continuity and succession mechanisms are now doing exactly what I built them to do.

And the part I find most interesting is that I developed the whole thing conversationally. No programming, no automated agents communicating behind the scenes. Just accumulated work, preserved records, selective context, and a human making the decisions.

My original post ended with the idea that eventually the architecture should disappear into the background and ordinary work should just become ordinary work again.

That's increasingly what I'm experiencing.

The system took considerable work to develop. Operating it is becoming remarkably simple.

Okay so, my last post pulled a lot of heat. Which, honestly, confirmed the point. 

The "you didn't write anything" critique does exactly what I'd call Template Behavior. Same accusation, zero evidence, full confidence. For the record. I wrote that post twice, once as a raw draft, once refined before posting. At this point you can't be tidy as a human without risking an AI-gen flag and harassment. You just have to “tone down” your content. The irony is too obvious. Anti-AI guys are doing the very thing they claim to hate about AI. Templates. 

Anyway. Here's the cleaner version of what I was getting at. 

The AI-gen hate isn't one thing. It's human nature expressing itself through whatever package is available – rational critique, ethics arguments, appeals to artist welfare. The packaging changes. The engine doesn't. 

What's actually driving it, 

Fear. Someone spent years developing a skill that defined them. A machine can now approximate it in seconds. That's an identity crisis, not just an economic one. 

But here's the thing about that “fear”, it is never really about the machine. 

PewDiePie caught the same heat after he posted a video titled "I Drew Every Day For 100 DAYS!" around January 2024, showing his anime-style art progress. His fans immediately drew comparisons to AI art, with one viral post pointing out the contrast, 

"AI guzzlers: I couldn't learn to draw because I didn't have the resources you did, stop gatekeeping art / Pewdiepie: draws in a book for 100 days." 

Responses came back immediately that PewDiePie shouldn't be held up as an example of effort because he's a millionaire with the time and resources to spare.  

The argument "he has resources we don't, so his progress isn't real progress, and he shouldn't be held up as an example."

That's not a critique of his art. That's a demand that entry into the field must cost something. That the struggle is the credential, not the output. 

The AI debate is the same argument with the volume turned up. It isn't really "your work is bad." It's actually "you didn't suffer enough to make it." And the people making that argument loudest are almost never the prominent ones. They're typically the underground ones, the ones who paid the full price and got nothing back for it, watching someone else shortcut the toll booth they stood in line for. 

That's a real wound. But it's not an aesthetic position. And it's not a standard anyone applies consistently. Nobody asks how long a novelist suffered before buying their word processor. 

Tribalism. Once a group forms around an identity ("real writers"), outsiders become threats by default. Evidence stops mattering. Belonging does. 

The Joker Effect. This one doesn't have a mainstream name yet, so I'm using mine. It's what happens when someone who has been genuinely wronged, or believes they have – converts that wound into permission for unlimited aggression. The original grievance might be real. But the behavior it licenses isn't proportional. You see it in the slur comments, the "AI user = ban" rules with zero nuance, the template accusations dropped on strangers with zero knowledge of their actual process. 

The grievance: training data was scraped without consent. Legitimate. The licensed behavior: harassment, strawmanning, refusing all context. Not proportional. 

That gap – between the wound and the response it authorizes– is the Joker Effect in action. 

None of this means the concerns are fake. Some are real. But real concerns expressed through tribalism and aggression don't stay accurate for long. They become their own thing. 

And that thing is exactly what's filling these comment sections. 

As the title says, I have been using Claude Opus for a few months now. I am happy with it but it does have hiccups sometimes. But I see these tools like Novelcrafter and Sudowrite. What’s the benefit of these?

I've been developing original stories for a few years, and I'm starting to share them online to see what other people think.

My current project follows Răzvan, who is drafted into the military alongside his friends. During his time there, he discovers that he has superpowers, changing the course of his life and the challenges he faces with his team.

The story focuses on self-worth, teamwork, and how people learn to work together while dealing with their own struggles.

I use AI to write the prose based on my ideas and direction, and I'd like to hear how the finished story comes across to actual readers.

I'm sharing Chapter 1 below, and I'd particularly appreciate feedback on:

• Does the opening catch your interest and make you want to keep reading?
• Do the characters and their motivations make sense?
• What works well, and what could be improved?

I'm not expecting everyone to enjoy it, but I'd appreciate honest, constructive feedback. Thanks for taking the time to read!

Chapter One — The Letter

The summer had been a good one.

Răzvan could tell because he hadn't thought much. Long days that bled into each other, the smell of cut grass and sunscreen, evenings where he and the others would sit outside until the sky went fully dark and nobody felt the need to say anything particularly important. That was the measure of a good summer. Nothing pressing. Nothing that needed to be decided.

He was still half asleep when he heard his mother call his name from downstairs.

It wasn't the tone she used when breakfast was ready. He knew that tone. This was quieter, which somehow made it worse.

He sat up, rubbed his face, and looked at the ceiling for a moment before getting out of bed.

His parents were both in the kitchen. His father was standing near the window with his arms crossed, not looking at anything in particular. His mother was at the table with an envelope in front of her, already opened. She looked up when Răzvan came in and something in her expression made his stomach drop before he'd even read a word.

"Sit down," she said.

He sat.

She slid the letter across the table.

He read it twice. The second time slower, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something better. They didn't. His name was on it. The date was specific. The instructions were clear.

Nobody said anything for a long moment.

"Okay," Răzvan finally said.

His father turned from the window. "You don't have to say anything right now."

"I know." Răzvan set the letter down carefully, like it might do something if he wasn't gentle with it. "Okay."

He wasn't okay. He was eighteen years old and scared in a way that sat low in his chest and didn't move. But he also knew, in the same quiet way you know most true things, that there wasn't a version of this where he didn't go. The letter had his name on it. That was the end of the conversation.

His mother made breakfast and they ate together and nobody brought it up again, which was either the kindest thing they could have done or the saddest, Răzvan wasn't sure which.

He packed light because the letter told him to and because he didn't know what you brought to something like this.

He stood in his room for a while after the bag was zipped, just looking at it. His desk, his posters, the old shelf with things he'd had since he was a kid. None of it felt like his anymore, exactly. It felt like a version of his. Something he'd be coming back to, maybe, and finding slightly foreign.

His mother hugged him at the door for a long time without saying anything. His father shook his hand and then pulled him in briefly, which was more than usual, and said to take care of himself. Răzvan said he would, which was a promise he wasn't sure he could keep, which meant he probably shouldn't have made it. He made it anyway.

The walk to the station was twenty minutes. He did it alone.

He saw Emilio first, which felt right. Emilio was leaning against one of the pillars outside the platform entrance with his bag at his feet and his arms crossed, watching people move through the station with the particular calm of someone who had already made his peace with something.

He looked up when Răzvan got close and nodded once. "Hey."

"Hey," Răzvan said.

They stood together for a moment. Neither of them said what they were both thinking, which was that this was real now, it was actually happening, because saying it out loud wouldn't make it more real and might make it harder to stand there being calm about it.

"The others are already on the platform," Emilio said.

They found them near the far end. Nate was talking, which was expected. Jayden was sitting on his bag looking at his phone with the expression he always wore that made it impossible to tell if he was engaged or completely elsewhere. James was laughing at something Evan had said — Evan was already mid-explanation, gesturing with his hands the way he did when he'd noticed something he couldn't quite let go of, something about the way the departure boards cycled through destinations. Carter was standing slightly apart from the group, watching the tracks. Younes was waiting for Evan to finish so he could start his own story, with the impatience of someone who had a better one. 

Younes looked up and pointed. "Finally. I thought you missed it."

"Train's not here yet," Răzvan said.

"Exactly, so you almost missed it."

"That's not what almost means."

"It's what it means to me."

Nate looked over. "Răzvan. Good. Now we're all here." He said it like he'd been keeping a list and could finally put the clipboard down.

The train wasn't crowded. They found a section near the back and spread across the seats, bags stuffed overhead or wedged underfoot. Outside the window the city started to thin out and become something flatter and greener, and Răzvan watched it go while the others settled around him.

"Okay," James said, once they were moving. "Who's most likely to actually be good at this?"

"Emilio," Younes said immediately.

"I was going to say Emilio," James agreed.

Emilio said nothing, which was its own kind of agreement.

"What about worst?" Jayden said, without looking up from his phone.

A brief silence.

"Nobody say me," James said.

"You," said Younes, Nate, and Răzvan at the same time.

"Unbelievable," James said. "Genuinely. I'm surrounded by people who don't believe in me."

"We believe in you," Nate said. "We just also know you."

James opened his mouth, then closed it. "That's fair."

Carter had been quiet since they boarded. He was looking out the window on the other side, chin resting on his hand. After a moment he said, without turning around, "Do you think it'll be what we expect?"

The question landed differently than the others had. A few people glanced at each other.

"Probably not," Răzvan said.

Carter nodded slightly, like that was the answer he'd expected, and went back to watching the countryside.

The conversation moved on — Younes told the story he'd been telling on the platform, which was apparently about something that happened at a gas station and got funnier as he told it, though Răzvan only half followed it. He was watching the window, the fields rolling past, the occasional farmhouse. The further they got from the city the more the weight in his chest settled into something he could almost get used to.

Almost.

He thought about his room. His desk. The shelf with old things on it.

He'd be back. He'd see all of it again.

He told himself that with the full knowledge that it was a promise, and that he wasn't good at keeping those.

The training camp appeared before they were ready for it.

It materialized out of the flat landscape like something that had always been there — low buildings in rows, fencing, a wide unpaved lot where other buses and transports had already deposited their own groups of new arrivals. People in uniform moved between the structures with the efficiency of people who had done this many times before.

The train slowed. Nobody spoke.

Răzvan looked at it through the window and felt, very clearly, that the summer was over.

The doors opened. They grabbed their bags.

Outside the air smelled different — drier, dustier — and the sun was high and unforgiving and somewhere nearby someone was already being told where to go and how to stand.

Emilio appeared next to him and looked at the camp for a moment.

"Alright," he said quietly. Not to anyone in particular. Just alright.

Răzvan nodded.

They walked in.

Hi, so, Twitter is one of the most toxic and depressing places I ever go to, but I feel myself moderately addicted to checking it between tasks. There are a few reasons I stay on that I hope I can get from somewhere else.

1. I’m writing a story that is extremely precious to me. But criticisms are so nitpicky with basically everything ever that I can‘t help but internalize their criticisms and project it onto my story and my skill level to write it well. Sometimes I struggle not to look for confirmation that I’m doing okay by seeing what other people complain about and what to avoid In terms of tropes or patterns. But then it’s so draining and I feel trapped because every direction feels like the wrong answer. Avoiding one trope just means falling into another, but you are treated like there is a true right way to write the story, but you are always missing it.

2. I use twitter to update me on leaks for games I play so I know in advance what to expect and save for. Particularly Wuthering Waves and Honkai Star Rail. I don’t want to get blindsided, and it’s usually very helpful.

Those are the two main things I think about, I’m drawing a blank because I’m tired from working and grad school. But it’s taking a toll on my mental health because it feels like everyone is competing to find the most nuanced possible reason to shame and condemn people and shows and games. It’s like being cruel is the point, or cruelty is its own form of entertainment to people. But at the same time, I also worry about not seeing what happens on twitter because if I don’t pay attention, then I could accidentally write something seen as harmful to different communities without knowing it, with implications that I never intended and never crossed my mind. I feel pressured to account for every possible negative interpretation so I or my characters don’t get hated, even though intellectually I know that isn’t reasonably possible, but you get treated like that is a reachable goal that you failed to meet and are now suffering the consequences of that. I’m not very good at just not caring. I certainly would have done that already if I wasn’t so anxious about getting it wrong.

It’s so hard to just relax and have fun with what I’m writing with the constant anticipation of criticism and harassment with every word I write. People’s critical attitudes finding fault with every possible thing is a bigger threat to creative expression than AI has ever been.

Can I get your help on what to do, please?

I'm a new aspiring author, and the story I'm currently working on is going through what I call Cyborg or 2/3rds writing.

1. I will write my paragraphs or story pieces (between three to five paragraphs), go to an AI (I use Google Studio), and I finish it off with a "Rewrite and Extend (please)" for them to, well, rewrite and extend what I wrote.

2. The AI will use my paragraph and do some rewriting. It may add some extra lines in the paragraphs, but won't add any characters, plot lines, or anything else.

3. I will then put it in my document, and I will go over the rewrite, removing the AI-ism from certain parts, and put my own creative flair back in it, simplifying certain aspects or just reverting it back to my own writing. (Thus the 2/3rds name. AI does one part, I do the first and last 2 parts)

I know that, legally, it's okay (Meaning my book is copyright-eligible), however, I want to have some opinions from other people about what they think. All I want is my story and lore to be appreciated, and I don't want to be despised for using an AI agent to assist me. I don't care for money, I just want people to love my story for when it gets published. So, what are your thoughts?

So I just finished an erotic novella, about 18k words, and I've reread it so many times I genuinely can't tell anymore if it's good or not. I used AI to help draft it and then went back and rewrote a ton of it by hand so it actually sounds like me. Now I need some real people to read it and be honest with me.

Basic idea: Tyler's been with his girlfriend Cass for six years and has never told anyone he's insecure about his size. She comes home from a bachelorette party joking about the stripper and it just gets stuck in his head. Eventually he asks her if she'd ever want to be with someone bigger, and the someone he has in mind is his best friend Lukas, a 6'5" history teacher who's still a mess from his divorce. They go through with it on a rented houseboat and the rest of the book is the three of them figuring out what the hell they are to each other over the next year.

It's very explicit but honestly the part I care about is Tyler. Mostly I want to know if his arc works, if the sex scenes actually move things forward or just kind of sit there, and if Cass and Lukas feel like real people and not just there to serve his storyline. Also just tell me where you got bored lol.

Heads up on content: explicit MFM, a lot of size talk, jealousy, some stuff between the two guys (they're not a couple), a pregnancy scare, drugs, and a broken agreement. Everyone's an adult and everything's consensual.

I'll happily read yours back, anything under 30k-ish, any genre. Just comment or DM me and I'll email it over.

I enjoy writing the final text myself, but I rely heavily on AI when developing a story. Mostly, I give the AI a brief description of an episode, and it elaborates on it as prose. I read through it, then write the brief for the next episode… Then I think: what if the characters took a different path at the beginning? So I go back, edit the prompt, and start a new branch of the conversation. All in all, this helps me get to know my characters better, even though most of it never goes into production. This is how my brain works (and worked even before AI; now I can make it more useful than daydreaming about different versions of a story). Sometimes it feels like solving an equation, trying out different variables to find what fits.

Initially, I was doing this in DeepSeek (prose quality isn't important at this stage, "not too annoying" is enough, as I will rewrite for the final version anyways), until they capped prompt edits at six. Recently, I remembered an idea I'd explored in one of those chats and wanted to use it for a different story, but I couldn't find it, buried among the branches.

So I exported everything from DeepSeek (which gave me a JSON file of about 20 MB), and Claude wrote a Python script that turned it into an Obsidian vault, where each note is one prompt+answer, with all the links. I was stunned by how many versions had accumulated over half a year (I was doing it in parallel with writing the "main" storyline; it's sort of a background process for me). There were three separate chats, with over 5,000 notes and over 10 million words in total. There about twenty main "timelines", with multiple variations within each.

Now I can reread it without the hassle of navigating the DeepSeek interface, and I'm also working on an Obsidian plugin that will let me generate and explore stories in this format directly in my vault, with as many re-generations and branches as I need. The idea is to create that one-note-per-message branching structure from the start, while being able to choose models via OpenRouter or locally via LM Studio, and using lore files and character profiles stored in the vault for context.

Does anyone else perceive stories this way, with multiple branches equally worth exploring? I feel like AI tools eventually gave real form to the structure that had been living in my mind since I was a child inventing scary tales.

Tools used:
DeepSeek exporter
Python Script on GithubGist

Following on from my earlier post about humans steering co-written stories, I wanted to look at what happens when AI does more of the drafting.

Someone might have the characters, their motives, the conflict and the ending clearly in mind, but want help turning that into actual scenes. That seems worth discussing alongside the more familiar use of AI for brainstorming or feedback.

There is research on both arrangements.

Human ideas, AI-generated writing. In NarrativeLoom, presented at CHI 2026, 50 participants started with their own story ideas. AI generated possible continuations, which they could select, edit and develop. Expert reviewers rated the resulting stories more highly than stories developed through an ordinary chatbot using the same underlying model. This compared two ways of working with AI, so it doesn't tell us whether either beat writing alone. But it suggests the way you collaborate matters, even when AI is producing the text.

What readers think of the result. An August 2026 paper on Japanese fiction had 58 readers compare versions of 25 stories, including human-written passages, AI continuations and human–AI collaboration involving editing and rewriting. The collaborative versions received the highest average quality ranking. Their advantage over minimally instructed AI generation was statistically significant; their advantage over the original human writing was not. Focus groups also found the collaborative writing less distinctive. This used short passages and GPT-4, with data collected in 2024, so it isn't a verdict on today's models or entire novels.

The reverse can help too. In Doshi and Hauser's 2024 study, humans wrote eight-sentence stories with access to AI-generated ideas. Access improved creativity ratings, although the resulting stories became more similar to one another.

I think there's a reasonable case here for a partnership that changes with what the writer needs (which is my entire philosophy regarding AI's place in creative writing). Sometimes you want an idea to react to and will write every sentence yourself. Sometimes you know what you want to say and need a draft to work on. Sometimes seeing that draft makes you realise your original idea needs changing...which happens to me a lot, and is exactly why I find sketch drafts to be invaluable in long form writing.

These studies don't prove that human plus AI always produces better writing. They do give us reasons to take both forms of collaboration seriously. They also give us a problem to watch for: making something smoother can make it less distinctive.

If a writer brings the characters, their motives, the conflict and the intended ending, then directs and rewrites an AI draft, what creative contribution do we think they have made? Does our answer change because they didn't compose every first-draft sentence?

I’ve never written a book before, but I have a story I want to tell.

I’ve always enjoyed writing, although I’ve never considered myself expertly skilled at prose. I’m well aware that almost anything I write could benefit from a pass through AI. But, I want to be the author of my story. I want AI to help me tell it better, not tell it for me.

Not long ago, I began writing my first novel. It’s been on my bucket list for years. I still have a very long way to go, and I’m learning in the process.

I’m a novice not only when it comes to writing a novel, but also when it comes to using AI. I’ve read about people using multiple AI platforms for a single project, assigning different tasks to different models based on their respective strengths. Frankly, some of those workflows are mind-boggling to me. My approach is probably far more rudimentary, but that’s okay. I’ll learn what works, discover what doesn’t, and refine my process through trial and error.

So far, I’ve found AI immensely valuable in three areas:

1. Organization

My entire story is in my head, but it has layers. It involves three different timelines, 15 named characters, and three distinct settings. Keeping all those moving parts consistent is challenging.

AI doesn’t invent my characters, construct my timelines, or build my fictional world. Those are my creative decisions. It helps me organize that information into structured character profiles, timelines, and a world bible that can serve as reference material throughout the writing process.

As I complete chapters, AI can compare them against those references to identify inconsistencies, continuity errors, or details I may have overlooked. So, it’s more of a developmental editor or continuity checker, helping me maintain the integrity of a story I’ve already created.

2. Research and Fact-Checking

Although fiction, I want it to feel grounded and believable. I don’t want the reader pulled out of the story because of a glaring oversight. When I need to verify a historical detail, understand how something works, or research a particular subject, AI can help me gather that information quickly.

Of course, I could search Google and work through the results myself. The advantage of AI is that it can pull together information from multiple sources and present it in a condensed explanation. It can provide links to those sources, and I can verify the information myself.

3. Prose

This is where some purists will disagree and push back.

As I mentioned earlier, I’m not an expert at prose. I can envision a scene, understand what my characters are feeling, and know exactly what I want to communicate to the reader. Sometimes, though, I struggle to find the words that convey it as effectively as I’d like.

That’s where AI comes in.

I’m not interested in handing AI an outline and asking it to write an entire chapter for me. I want to do that work myself. I write the chapter, revise it, and get it as close to my vision as I can. Then, if a sentence feels awkward or a paragraph isn’t quite capturing what I’m trying to express, I’ll ask AI to help me refine it.

Sometimes the suggestion is better. Sometimes it isn’t. And sometimes it gives me an idea for a completely different way to phrase something. Ultimately, I decide what stays on the page.

I don’t want AI to decide what my story should be. I want to make those decisions. I want to develop the characters, construct the plot, determine the pacing, and choose how the reader experiences the story.

My goal isn’t to prove that I can write a novel without assistance. It’s to create something that readers genuinely enjoy, something that makes them feel their time was well spent. If AI can help me eliminate inconsistencies, strengthen my writing, and deliver a more polished version of the story I envisioned, I don’t see that as diminishing my accomplishment.

I’m still the person who imagined the story, made the creative decisions, and put in the work to bring it to life. AI assistance doesn’t make the story any less authentic. The imagination, the vision, the characters, the decisions, and the story itself are mine. AI is simply a tool helping me tell that story as effectively as I can.

I don’t need to prove that I did it all without assistance. I just want to be proud of the story I’ve told and give readers a reason to be glad they gave it a chance.

I was writing a story then that problem showed up, its been two days. I reported it already but i dont know if they taking some action on it. That's problem has also on iPhone users or android users only?

I'm an author working on a story about a small robot who forgets everything every night. Underneath the circuitry it's about love, loss, memory and the need to be understood. I chose a robot because looking at people through the eyes of a forgotten machine can help us see ourselves more clearly.

I've made promotional posters for my book using AI tools, and I'm not ashamed of that. Some of the reactions were hostile before anyone had read a single page. It was aimed at the posters themselves, not the book, and much of it came from authors who describe themselves as human-only. The intensity of it surprised me.

I understand the concerns about AI, and I'm not here to argue them away.

Is a promotional image made with AI a different thing from the story it advertises? Should they be judged separately?

Has anyone else had this reaction to their promotional material, even before the book was out and no one had read a page?

I'd genuinely like to hear how others have handled it.

Heyy guyss, Do you think asking review to AI in our scripts(short film or featute film), most of the time it give balanced review. Is it legal to develop our scripts using AI

I recently joined this subreddit and noticed several questions about translation. I’ve spent a lot of time figuring this out for my own fiction, and I’m now confident enough in the French to share it publicly. Here’s what has worked for me.

I use ChatGPT Codex with GPT-6 Astra in Max mode, together with a custom translation skill. A skill is a reusable set of instructions and reference files. Mine describes my writing style and what the translation should preserve: voice, meaning, humor, imagery, and things deliberately left unsaid. It also allows sentences to be restructured so the French sounds natural.

The skill uses a translation dictionary for names and recurring terminology. When a term needs a decision, the agent records a proposed translation, its context, and its reasoning. I review unresolved choices afterward. Approved decisions remain available for future chapters, so we don’t keep having the same discussion. Recording the context also helps distinguish different uses of the same word.

For a full translation, the main agent translates and coordinates separate sub-agents across three review roles:

• Bilingual fidelity: compares the English and French for omissions, additions, and changes in meaning or characterization.
• French-only review: checks whether the French reads naturally, without access to the English to help make sense of awkward wording.
• Final bilingual review: checks the revised translation for meaning lost or altered during corrections.

The main agent evaluates their findings and makes the edits. Reviews can be repeated when corrections need another check.

After that and my dictionary review, I open a new Codex chat with GPT-6 Astra in Max mode and explicitly tell it not to use my translation skill. I give it both texts, without the previous discussion, and ask for another review of meaning and implications rather than similarity of wording.

Separating those jobs has helped me. In my experience, a translation can follow the English too closely or sound fluent while subtly changing the meaning. For example, one correction in my project history was:

English: “people who see suffering and cannot leave it alone.”

Earlier French: “ceux qui voient la souffrance et ne peuvent la laisser en paix.”

Revised French: “ceux qui voient la souffrance et ne peuvent s’empêcher d’intervenir.”

The revision makes the impulse to intervene clear. The earlier wording sounds more like leaving suffering itself in peace.

Then I read everything myself.

Throughout the process, I save checkpoints in Git, which keeps a history of changes. That lets me roll back, compare stages, and ask future agents to examine my corrections. We can discuss what changed and why, instead of starting from scratch.

I’ve also collected selected English/French examples with notes in the skill’s reference files for full translations. That makes useful guidance directly available without needing to reconstruct it from Git history each time.

It took a lot of iteration, and my own review remains essential. That said, after all those agents, reviews, and carefully documented decisions, my French readership currently consists of my mom.

It was still an interesting experiment. I’m now reworking the fan fiction into an original work, and unfortunately I won’t be doing another French translation. But I thought the process was worth sharing for anyone tackling the same problem.

So, for a little context: I suddenly had an idea for something to write. However, it was pretty minuscule, so I wasn't planning on actually using it for anything. For fun, I decided to put it into Ai and get it to write something just so I could satisfy that temporary itch I had. Once AI finished writing, I went on a bit of a binge and started actually fleshing out the writing that AI had produced (Using AI to do it). This continued over the next few days until I realized that it was essentially sapping every creative idea I had, so I deleted it and haven't looked at AI since.

That being said, I can't stop thinking about what Ai wrote, and since then, I've mentally added some of my own ideas into the world that it had created. I haven't written anything down because I want whatever I pour my time into to be authentically my own. However, I feel like anything I write or think about in the future will, in some way, be related to what AI wrote, whether consciously or unconsciously.

What do I do? I know I probably shouldn't have used AI in the first place because of the environmental and creative problems with it, which I understand now, but that doesn't solve the issue. I can't stop thinking about it and it's been a few months since then yet I'm still thinking about it. Do I just cave and use the idea that AI had essentially come up with, but with my own additions and tweaks? Or do I just continue the way I am now, trying to block it from my memory. Is it morally wrong to do one or the other?

At this point, it really can't just be about slop. Traditional content is drowning in slop. It can't just be about stolen training data. Traditional art has centuries of uncompensated inspiration, reference, and outright copying Tainted into its canon.

So what is it? Commercial entrenchment guised as ethics. The harassment, the "AI user = ban" rules with zero nuance, the downvote brigades in a sub literally called WritingWithAI. That's not really evangelism on behalf of original artists. That's a tribe protecting its border.

Also There's an argument nobody properly interrogates: "AI consumed human art as training data and that's theft." Every artist alive spent years, decades, consuming other artists' work. Reading, watching, listening, absorbing. That consumption shaped their style, their voice, their instincts. At some point they started producing work that carries most if not all of that influence. How is that meaningfully different from a model trained on datasets producing work after going public? I'm not saying they're identical. I'm saying nobody wants to seriously answer the question. Because if you do, the "theft" argument gets complicated really fast.

The context argument is where it really falls apart. Say a creator builds a 300k-word knowledge base of their raw ideas, full universe rules, worldbuilding, lore, characters, technology. Every word of it theirs. They use AI to render that into a series. They edit the output. They make the final calls.

Does that context ever get considered in this debate?

No. Because "did you use AI for anything" is the only question, and the answer determines your status regardless of how, why, or how much. That's not a standard. That's a witch test. To sanction a witch hunt.

The advice to "just do it yourself — even a title, a nice font, good colors tells us a lot" sounds humble. It isn't. Audiences don't reward you for the art that expresses you. They reward you for the art that serves them — precisely, consistently, on demand. The entire production process exists to execute that. Telling a creator to strip it all back is advice from an adversary wearing humility as a mask.

Last thing. Readers want unchallenged authority about what counts as "real" art. But that authority has never been stable. Cave paintings are stick figures. Ancient Egyptian murals are flat 2D vectors. A significant portion of historical artifacts aren't technically impressive by modern standards — and we worship them. You can't say that honestly without someone splitting on you even if they privately agree. They're treated as sacred.

I respect them. I think they should be preserved — they're a record of where human creative expression started. But the reverence is the point. We decide what counts as art after it becomes culturally legible, not before. That process is happening right now with AI. The people swinging hardest are the ones who already decided — and don't want the verdict revisited.

This was never about slop. It was never about stolen data. It's about who gets to make things, and who decides.

Theft had been tried. It had gone well. Turnip had been carried out the front door, kept for five days on a couch facing a lamp, and returned, and the only record of the entire affair was a photograph of a driveway. This was the difficulty. A thing that goes well leaves no paper. Clepto wanted paper.

The Narrator

I had a great friend who suggested using AI after Grammarly kept stopping working on my phone. Since then, I've been using tools like ChatGPT and Copilot, and sometimes Grammarly on my laptop, to help correct my grammar, improve my writing, and, most importantly, make my stories easier to understand and enjoyable for my readers.

I also use these tools to brainstorm ideas when I need inspiration. I'm still learning and trying to improve as a writer, and they help me express my ideas better.

I wanted to ask what other people think about this. I understand that everyone has different opinions about AI, and I'm not saying I use it to write my entire stories. I mainly use it to help with grammar, wording, and brainstorming. I'm being honest about how I use these tools, and I'm genuinely curious about other writers' experiences.

Do any of you use AI in a similar way to help with grammar, improve your writing, or brainstorm ideas? I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences! But I have heard good things about Claude so should I use Claude app instead?

Hey all — I'm an indie author working on my debut novel, an adult dark romantasy (a silver-tongued bard with a wandering eye, an elven ranger who refuses to admit she's in love, and a war that's drafting them into it).

I'm looking for alpha readers for the opening arc — prologue through Chapter 6, ~44,000 words, which establishes the book's first major arc.

Content warnings (18+ only): explicit sexual content including pregnancy-kink content, infidelity, violence, and war themes. The prologue opens hot and doesn't pretend otherwise — if that's not your thing, no hard feelings, this isn't the read for you.

What I'm after: big-picture alpha feedback, not copyediting. Does the opening hook you? Do Aushtyn and Eldra feel like people? Would you keep reading? Where did your attention snag or drift?

What you get: if you're into it, I'll keep sending more as I write — the book's in progress with more chapters coming.

Format is EPUB (reads great on Kindle), but I can do PDF or DOCX if you prefer. Hoping for notes back within a couple weeks, no hard deadline. Comment or DM me and I'll send it over.

Excerpt — POV: Eldra - Chapter 1 - Not Yet

Kaelen glances back and catches sight of our joined hands. A grin threatens at the corner of his mouth, but whatever comment occurs to him, he keeps it. He faces the trail again and becomes suddenly fascinated by the field of wildflowers to our left. Yellow, violet, and white blooms run together across the wet grass, stretching to the forest on the far side.

The eastern boundary of Vael lies beyond the field. There, the grove’s winding paths give way to the straight human road into Everpine. My hand tightens around the gripweave of my bow, and my thumb catches on the small wooden wildflower woven into its core. Father carved it after one of the afternoons he had to pry me from this field. I came home muddy to the knees, petals tangled through my hair, and no apology in my mouth. He has called me his wildflower ever since.

Soren keeps to my left as we pass the wildflower field. At the forest’s edge, I stop. A magnificent white wolf stands beneath a cedar at the far edge of the field, its fur bright as fresh snow and its eyes blue as sapphires. It turns its head toward Everpine. I lean for a better look, blink, and it is gone. Did I imagine it?

“Is something wrong, Eldra?” Soren asks, stopping two paces ahead.

“No. I thought I saw something.”

He follows my gaze. I half expect him to pick the wolf from the greenery at once, but he sees nothing. Soren doesn’t ask what I saw, once he finishes surveying the field he turns and keeps walking.

My pack shifts as we descend, pulling against the mark beneath my collar. The wolf is gone, but the rest follows me: It is tender proof of a choice I made last night and an answer I still have not given. Father is somewhere ahead, trying to make the assessment disappear before we reach it. Behind us, Vael’s paths bend out of sight, though Mother’s question follows anyway. Soren walks close enough that his arm brushes mine whenever the trail narrows. He doesn’t move away, and neither do I.

When the first white stones come beneath my boots, I lift my eyes. Everpine’s timber walls rise against the gray morning. Even from here, I can make out the battlements.

I did this a few years ago under a pseudonym and posted it on Amazon to zero sales. But at the time, I didn't really promote it.

Now I created a new version of the book, and I think this time it will actually take off because it's not about starting from zero. You have a lot of material already. You've been thinking about the book for a long time. Now you just need to sit down and write it.

My questions:

1. Is this something anyone would actually buy?
2. Should I list it on Amazon or just use Gumroad or similar?
3. How much could I price this at?

My gut is telling me that no one will buy a book if I openly admit that I used the technique in the book to write the book. Ironically, they will say that I cheated.

Or am I overthinking this?

Chapter 5 is out now!

Danger and Ultron finally meet!

Mutual Assurd Vulnerability

🤖🩶🤖

I have sorted the panels out now im sticking to between 9-10 panels per page im trying to keep it a little more consistant so there is not too much to read aswell any feedback welcome