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Amazon Unveils a [Horrifying] Fanfic Publishing Platform
Today, Amazon announced the imminent launch of its newest endeavor, Kindle Worlds, a publishing platform for fanfiction. When I read the announcement, I was horrified, then angry, then sad. I want to take a moment to explain why this is such a tragedy.
Amazon launches kindle platform to SELL fanfiction
Amazon secured a deal with Warner on some franchises (Vampire Diaries, etc) that allows them to publish fanworks from said franchise (with massive restrictions, no porn, no graphic violence, etc), with low payment for authors (!!!) and massive percentage going back to Warner (!!!!!)
Infos over here
This is a DISGRACE. Fanfiction is FREE. People do not make MONEY out of it. This is not-for-profit derivative work.
The status quo between fanfiction and copyright is what allow us to enjoy it, if this starts happening, more people will question copyright and find way to challenge things for the worst, it could forever changed how fanfiction is.
Let’s fight this!! Quick I need a petition.
Imagine your favorite character letting you sleep in their bed and lie your head on their chest when you have a nightmare
Hello my name is Audrey and I wrote a probably lame thing.
Sequel - A Tiva one-shot; tag to 10x24 “Damned If You Do.”
The first time he joins her on her daily run, she is surprised. It’s been almost a week since the team quit; she hasn’t spoken to him and he hasn’t spoken to her, and she’s been expecting that it’ll stay that way because, after all, haven’t they always been that way?
He just smiles at her, though. Says, “I miss you.”
She’s okay with that.
He doesn’t show up the next morning or the morning after next.
She’s accepted by the third morning that it had just been an anomaly in their routine of uneventulness, the one time he jogged with her, so she’s—again—surprised when he shows up a full seven days after that first time.
“Is this a weekly thing now?” she asks him, and his answering smile strikes her as a tiny bit shy.
“If you don’t mind.”
““What’s Twin Peaks?” Derek asks. “Uh…” Stiles rubs his head, nervous for some reason. “I don’t think that one’s a good idea.” Derek gives him a look. Stiles sighs heavily. “It’s about a small town and the mystery of who killed a girl named Laura.” “Ah. Well.””—Cross Our Bridges When We Come to Them
I was thinking of doing this earlier but I held back...
So even though I don’t go to the IchiRuki tag, I still get annoyed by the “Rukia is a twelve-year-old boy” bit and I decided to write something about it.
Dear World, boobs do not make you a woman. It’s the presence of two X chromosomes and the lack of Anti-Mullerian Substance found in the Y chromosome that determines gender. Puberty is the onset of menstruation, a time in which girls develop secondary sex characteristics, e.g., boobs. These are mostly dictated by the amount of estrogen secreted and your own genetic make-up.
Therefore, large boobs do not equal femininity. You are female at birth (or unless you change your mind, whatever. I don’t judge) and attractiveness is determined by your own self-worth, not others’ perceptions. There. You have now been educated. You’re welcome.
Seriously, if you’re threatened by another character’s presence enough to hate on him/her and use him/her as an argument against a ship, then you don’t have enough faith in your own ship. And this is coming from someone who routinely ships non-canon/crack couples and only has faith (and fanfiction) to run on. :/
The End. And because I hate lectures without something fun at the end, I’ve written a
somewhat smutty IchiRuki drabble for everyone! Enjoy~ ;)
He doesn’t know what it is but there’s always been something about Rukia.
It’s not anything that she’s recently changed, like her haircut; he’s used to it by now. Actually Ichigo thinks he might like it better than her old one, the way it dances across cheekbones and sharpens her pretty face. Not that she’s pretty, he tells himself, ignoring the heating along his neck as he watches her out of the corner of his eye.
It shouldn’t be this hard to concentrate. He’s just finishing up some homework (Kami, how has it piled up so high? Doesn’t saving the universe count towards any kind of leniency?), nothing that requires much more than minimal effort. He’s smart, he knows that, so why can’t he stop staring at Rukia doing absolutely nothing of importance on his bed?
It’s those damn shorts, he curses, clenching his eyes closed and tightening a grip on his pen. Because they’re cut far too high to be comfortable. Seriously, how can she wear them? And the way she’s lying down, legs akimbo as she stretches out her meager height, doesn’t help his case. He tries not to dwell on the fact that her tank top has ridden up, her arms held above her face as she giggles over the manga she’s reading.
Ichigo can’t help but take in skin the color of ivory and how it covers sinewy muscle, an attribute she’s gained from decades of training. One would think Rukia might be little more than skin and bones but he’d testify otherwise. He’s carried her on his back enough times to know the feel of her, those small hands clutching at his shoulders, hiding strength even he hated acknowledging sometimes. Because she’d never need his protection and he hated how she would fight against the only thing he could do for her.
For a moment his thoughts are broken when she stretches upwards, revealing the expanse of her toned abdomen and Ichigo can literally feel the sweat bead along his temples. His eyes go against any courtesy he would’ve given another girl and followed the movement, revealing her cute, little bellybutton and the outline of her upper abs, as she arches her back with a sigh.
A whining sound gets caught in her throat, followed by a deliciously low gasp as she flattens back against his covers and, dammit, he should not be turned on by this. Nor should he wonder if his covers will smell like her afterwards, something for him to remember her by when she disappears again for who-knows-how-long.
It’s not something he wants to think about because the memories of their separation come back and haunt him on occasion, lonely nights when he wondered if Rukia ever visited. Hell, if she ever cared at all. Because, deep down in his subconscious, he had. More than even he was aware of, and his mind and body had been more than willing to explain just how much.
Visions of her stole into his dreams, often enough that Ichigo couldn’t remember any dry spell longer than a few weeks. They’d started innocently enough, of her laughter and her voice and her sad eyes before she told him goodbye. Of those awkward moments and heartfelt ones, and all the little details he hadn’t appreciated when she was near. It made him feel as if he was missing his right limb when he woke up, a phantom ache in his chest when he realized that day had broken his slumber,
However, Ichigo couldn’t be sure when they started to shift.
Soft smiles were replaced by slick lips, amethyst eyes slanted in a perpetual come-hither. In his dreams he was no strong man, not when Rukia clutched a fistful of his hair and kissed him like she wanted to be his oxygen. Pressed up against his body, she would straddle his waist and moan both tender words and pleased gasps as she dueled against his tongue.
And just like his eyes in real life, his dream hands wandered without any of his usual self-control. Hidden by the shadows of night, he’s petted her soft calves, dragged his fingers against the back of her thighs and made her groan helplessly, as he smirks into the sound. He’s kissed the pulse in her neck, tonguing at the muscle as she tilts her head back and lets him. He’s stripped her of whatever imaginary clothing he’s dressed her in and laid her down, admiring how the moonlight makes her skin shine as she smiles up at him, half innocent, half seductress.
In those nightly encounters, he imagines those modest but perky breasts, the tips peaked with pink nipples. And he plays her sweet body perfectly, swirling his tongue around the top before suckling it in as she cries and pleads with him. He loves how she can’t form the words, just pushes her chest further into his mouth and rubs against him as much as she can, as if offering herself was a more adequate way to communicate. He doesn’t remember ever misunderstanding.
Sometimes he’d let his hands trail downwards and palm that perfect bottom, perfectly peach-shaped and sensitive and, god, he really shouldn’t be imagining it now that he knows what it looks like. But he can’t help it when he imagines how she’d rock her hips against his, hoping for friction and for him to take a hint and let his fingers dip between her thighs and—
“I’m thirsty!” Ichigo stands up abruptly, pushing against his desk and knocking over his chair. Surprised, Rukia shoots up and glares over at him, taking in his hunched shoulders and and tightened form.
“Umm, okay… Can you get me something too?” she asks as he makes his way over to the door. When he stops but refuses to look back at her, the shinigami can only raise a brow at his odd behavior.
“What do you want?” If she notices the choked sound of his voice, she doesn’t say anything.
Tapping her chin thoughtfully, Rukia speaks as she props up the pillow and leans against it. “Yuzu-chan said you guys have those interesting, rectangular juice boxes. Do you have the peach-flavored kind?”
In that instant, Ichigo can literally feel something inside him snap.
“W-why would we have anything like that?! We’re not a bunch of perverts or anything, Rukia!”
Ignoring her indignant squawk, he slams the door behind him and rushes down the stairs, covering his face that’s colored with damning embarrassment. How was he going to explain that reaction to her later? Hell, how was he going to function around peaches for the rest of his human life? Ichigo refused to spend the rest of his life getting turned on by fruit. Wasn’t he enough of a freak already?
I’m embarrassed by this because I’m still trying to figure out how to write smut. Also, I have no idea where this fits into the current arc but do we care if it’s IchiRuki? Nope. I APOLOGIZE FOR NOTHING! :D Thank you for reading my rant. I hope the drabble makes up for all the learning I forced on you. ;) Not X-posting, btw. This is specifically for my wonderful followers and fellow shippers on tumblr~
Kindle Worlds 101:
Anybody who spends any time on Twitter might have noticed the buzz about Amazon’s most recent announcement: a new division called Kindle Worlds, where works based on other works can be published. (You can read the press release here.)
How Kindle Worlds will work:
Unlike Amazon’s self-published division, Kindle Worlds accepts submissions rather than blankly allowing everybody to upload their own work. The works have to stay in the original canon of the story and merely expand upon the already given universe.
There are two two separate arms: one where the original publisher licenses the work, where they’ve reached out to authors to write for this; and another where the authors can submit work and Kindle Worlds chooses whether or not to publish them via their guidelines. This posts focuses on the second, self-publishing (or, rather, self-submitting) arm.
second and final thoughts regarding kindle worlds
from john scalzi’s blog, the major issue that i take with this whole publish your fanfiction through amazon/alloy with kindle worlds is as follows:
“We will also give the World Licensor a license to use your new elements and incorporate them into other works without further compensation to you.”
i.e., that really cool creative idea you put in your story, or that awesome new character you made? If Alloy Entertainment likes it, they can take it and use it for their own purposes without paying you — which is to say they make money off your idea, lots of money, even, and all you get is the knowledge they liked your idea.
Essentially, this means that all the work in the Kindle Worlds arena is a work for hire that Alloy (and whomever else signs on) can mine with impunity. This is a very good deal for Alloy, et al — they’re getting story ideas! Free! — and less of a good deal for the actual writers themselves. I mean, the official media tie-in writers and script writers are doing work for hire, too, but they get advances and\or at least WGA minimum scale for their work.
like…man, we’re entering into a really cool age. i mean, we’re in the thick of it right now. how fan interaction and social media can drive, inspire, reinvent narratives. we’ve got remakes and reboots and fan presence and fan writers and fans becoming professionals and fan culture as a whole right now is HUGE—and, what’s more, i’m pretty sure we’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg in terms of how much this is going to change our concept of ‘original’ works. now, fanfiction has been with us forever, i’d say; it’s only gained recent momentum and notice, even if it’s a human impulse at its core. love a story? you don’t have to leave it. we’ve always been like this. dante wrote freaking self insert fanfiction about himself and his favorite historical writer for god’s sake. we are part of a legacy that only recently has gained the need for some kind of categorization in the face of copyright.
but this whole deal, to me, seems like a really clever and underhanded ploy on alloy’s part to exploit a willing and eager fanbase, to mine them for ideas, and then to screw them out of their rights, take what they like, and reap the benefits.
in the coming years, faster than i think many of us ever could have imagined, the whole dynamic of fan vs creator is going to shift in a major way, because it has already begun to do so. we are watching it happen right before our eyes. and of course there are going to be people who attempt to make a profit on that in an unseemly and greedy way—which, by the looks of it, this foray into monetizing a fanfiction friendly franchise with kindle worlds appears to be.