VedaDalsette posted at 1:20 PM Fri, 10 April 2026 - #4505186

If AI does the writing, doesn't AI own the work?

For me, at least, it's not doing the writing, but proofreading and sometimes helping refine what I wrote. 

Here's a sample that I was testing in Grok

Mine:

Nicholas glanced at the woman sitting a couple of seats down the bar from him. She didn’t appear to be drunk yet. She also seemed to be alone. She was texting someone but didn’t act like she was waiting for anyone.

“Is he not showing up?” He asked anyhow.

“She couldn’t make it,” the woman said, not looking up from her phone.

“My mistake.” Nicholas started to turn his attention elsewhere. It was more fun to seduce them first.

“My friend was supposed to meet me here but she got stuck at work. We were going to have a girl’s night out. Her boyfriend is out of town, and mine dumped me last week.” She finally put down her phone and looked at him, taking in his long hair and clothes that bordered on goth, what most of the regulars wore. “What about you? You didn’t come alone, did you?”

Grok's

Nicholas leaned against the bar, his sharp eyes flicking toward the woman a couple of seats down. She sat perched on her stool, legs crossed, a faint flush of life in her cheeks that told him she wasn’t drunk—not yet. The dim light of the vampire bar caught the sheen of her dark hair as it spilled over her shoulders, and her fingers danced over her phone, texting with a focus that suggested she was alone. No nervous glances at the door, no expectant tilt of her head. Just her, the phone, and the faint hum of the bar’s undercurrent—laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional low growl from the shadows.

“Is he not showing up?” His voice slithered out, smooth as velvet but with a jagged edge, testing her.

She didn’t look up, her thumbs still tapping. “She couldn’t make it.”

“My mistake.” Nicholas let his lips curl into a faint smirk, turning his gaze away as if disinterested. Seduction was a game, after all—a slow hunt, more thrilling when the prey didn’t see the teeth until it was too late.

“My friend was supposed to meet me here,” she said, finally setting the phone down with a soft clack against the bar. Her eyes lifted to him, taking in his long hair, black as a raven’s wing, and the clothes that clung to him like a second skin—leather and dark silk in a goth style, the uniform of the regulars who haunted this place. “She got stuck at work. We were going to have a girls’ night out. Her boyfriend’s out of town, and mine dumped me last week.” She paused, her big brown eyes appraising him. “What about you? You didn’t come alone, did you?”

As I said, I was testing things out. AI is a tool. How you use it or if you use it is up to you.

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