An AI photo editor without the usual restrictions

The restrictions people mean

Some people search for a photo editor, others for an AI image editor — the restrictions they are trying to avoid are the same either way. Nobody searching for an unrestricted editor is asking for a tool with no rules. They are asking about three specific frustrations, each of which has a specific answer here.

A watermark stamped across a finished edit. A download button that turns out to need a subscription. A resolution cap that quietly hands back something smaller than what was uploaded.

None of those exist here, on any tier. What does exist is a credit allowance, and it is set out below in plain numbers rather than buried — because a service that claimed everything was unlimited would either be collecting something else from you or would not be here in a year.

No watermark on an edit. Ever.

If you upload a photo and change it, the result comes back unmarked on every tier, including the free one with no account. This is not a trial period or an introductory allowance — it is how the product works.

The reasoning is that an edit is your photograph. Stamping a logo across a picture of your own family is a different act from stamping one across an image that a model invented from nothing, and treating them the same way would be the wrong call.

No export wall, no resolution downgrade

The download link is on the result the moment it appears, and it gives you the full image. There is no larger version held back for subscribers and no separate paid export step.

The result is not downscaled relative to what you uploaded. What comes back is the edit at working resolution, not a preview of an edit you would need to pay to collect.

Result links are temporary and expire on their own, which is a privacy decision rather than a commercial one — we do not want to be holding your photos indefinitely. The practical consequence is the same either way: download the file when you get it rather than relying on the link later.

The real limit, stated plainly

12 free credits without an account, spent once and not refilled. That is the actual constraint, and it is a real one — every generation costs money to run, and a service that pretended otherwise would either be collecting something else from you or would not be here in a year.

An account renews it: 12 fresh credits arrive every day you sign in, free. A paid plan covers regular use, and Pro and above add commercial rights, which free results do not carry — free output is for personal use.

Uploads are capped at 10 MB, which covers essentially every phone photo, in JPG, PNG or WebP. If a file is rejected for size, that is why.

What 12 free credits actually covers

An allowance is easier to judge once you convert it into work. Every model is priced in the same credits, from the light row upward, so the starter balance is up to 3 edits at the cheapest one or a single run on a heavier one — comfortably a finished job, before anything has asked who you are.

Because a stranger's balance does not refill, it is worth spending deliberately. An account is what removes that pressure: 12 credits arrive every day whether you used yesterday's or not, so you can try an instruction, look at the result, adjust three words and run it again. A metered plan quietly discourages exactly that second attempt, and the second attempt is usually the one that lands.

Where the free tier does not fit is bulk work. A catalogue of thirty product shots in one sitting needs a paid plan; a free account's 12 credits a day cover a handful of edits, not a catalogue.

Every editing task is available on that free allowance, at full resolution, unwatermarked — the anonymous result is the same file a paying customer gets for the same instruction. What a paid plan adds is volume, longer-lived results and — from Pro up — commercial rights, not better output.

One pacing detail: there is a twenty-second gap between generations, so a burst of rapid retries will wait rather than queue.