Chapter Text
Victor dropped his head to the keyboard with a groan. He bangs his forehead against the keys a couple times for good measure. Even keyboard smash has to be better writing than what he can produce right now. He glares at the blinking cursor as if it was the cause of all his problems, then pulls out his cell phone to text Chris. Maybe his best friend/editor will have some ideas for his writers block.
Victor: My muse has deserted me! My life as an author is over. Writer’s block is crushing my soul into a million tiny pieces. Send help. Or coffee.
Victor hit send and growled at his computer. Maybe checking Facebook would help. Or Twitter. Or Instagram. Or any other distraction he could find online.
Chris: On a scale of black to sugar coma, what are we talking today?
Victor: Sugar coma.
Chris: That bad, huh?
Victor: I’m pretty sure my life is over.
Chris: I’ll see you in twenty.
As promised, Chris arrived in roughly twenty minutes, coffee in hand.
“I’m not even sure what’s in here,” Chris tells Victor as he hands him the coffee. “I just told the barista to give me the sweetest, most sugary thing on the menu that also contained caffeine.” Victor takes a tentative sip.
“Vkusno!”
“Is your life still ending?” Chris asks.
“Maybe not my life,” Victor concedes, “but definitely my career. I just don’t care anymore. Yakov wants me to tell the same story over and over again, because that’s what sells. My writing doesn’t have a soul anymore. It’s dead and lifeless and genre,” Victor says the last word like it’s some type of highly contagious disease.
“You know we have genres for a reason,” Chris tells him mildly. Victor ignores him.
“I want to write something that will surprise my readers, keep them coming back because they never know what the next Nikiforov book will be about. But the action, the adventure, the mystery, they expect all of that from me now.”
“You do realize writing what people want is what pays your rent, right?”
“Chris! Be serious! I don’t want to write anything right now! My life is in shambles!” Victor declared dramatically. Chris just rolled his eyes.
“Your life is not in shambles. You just need to take a little break, find something that lights the spark again.”
“But what?”
“You could always get lai-“ Chris started before Victor cut him off with a squawk.
“Chris! We’ve talked about this! I’m not going to do --- that. And you know the suave playboy is all an act for the media, right?”
“Exactly. I’m just saying, Vic, it might help…” Victor shook his head vehemently, and Chris let the subject drop with a sigh.
“What about reading something different? You know what they say: ‘Good writers are…’”
“’Also good readers,” Victor finished with him. “I mean, I read the books that are competing with mine…” he started, but Chris was already shaking his head.
“No. No, you need something completely different. This is going to sound a little left field, but have you ever tried reading fanfiction?”
“Fanfiction?” Victor asked quirking an eyebrow at his friend. “Really?”
“Don’t judge,” Chris huffed. “There’s some really good stuff out there. And it’s my job to know good writing when I see it.”
“But isn’t it just copying someone else’s idea?” Victor asked, genuinely curious now.
“No, not really,” Chris said. “It is playing in someone else’s world, which is where things get a little murky. But the really good ones keep the essence that drew the fans in the first place while creating something that is entirely new and different from the original. Or they pick up where the original author left off, and tell an entirely new story. Man, I wish I had a good metaphor…” Chris growled, running a hand through his blonde curls.
“Ok,” Victor said, dropping back into his chair and spinning to face his laptop. “Where do I find the fanfiction?” Christophe grinned. This was going to be fun.
“Let’s start you out on AO3…”
***
Hello! My name is Yuri, 23, he/him pronouns, aspiring writer and Victor Nikiforov fanatic. Fan fiction on AO3 under the same name, the-katsudon-writes!
Yuuri forced himself to close out of tumblr. He had a pile of 9th grade poetry tests to grade before he got a chance to play. His text alert sounded and Yuuri scrambled for the phone, desperate to continue avoiding the tests.
Phichit: New chapter tonight?
Yuri: I have to finish grading the poetry tests before I can post anything.
Phichit: Get on that! I need my update! Save me from grading the papers of struggling sophomores.
Yuri: Then you have to stop texting me so I can finish these tests and post the update. Work on your papers til then. I’ll even text you the minute I post it.
Phichit: Fine, fine. Slave driver.
Yuuri set his phone and laptop aside, pulling the pile of tests into his lap and grabbing his favorite red pen. Grading the tests shouldn’t take more than an hour, it was just getting into the right mental state to work through them.
Yuri: Done with the tests! Pretty happy over all, but there were a couple… yikes.
Phichit: There’s always a couple yikes. Take a deep breath.
Yuri: But Phichit! Do they just not care? Or am I just a horrible teacher?
Phichit: Yuri. We’ve talked about this. You are not a horrible teacher. You care about your students. Poetry probably just isn’t their thing. It’s not my thing. Remember when you were planning this unit and trying to talk to me about all these different poems and the devices and the other things?
Phichit: How well did that go?
Yuri: About as well as you trying to explain why the chemistry memes are funny.
Phichit: Which means…
Yuri: Not at all. Ok, thanks, Phichit.
Phichit: I’ve got you, bro.
Phichit: So, new chapter? Is it up?
Yuri: No, not yet. I need to read over it one more time before I post.
Phichit: Yuuuuurrriiii! I need to know what happens!
Yuri: Well, I know you’ve read the Nikiforov novel this is based on, so…
Phichit: You know it’s not the same! Nikiforov writes action/adventure! You write high fantasy!
Yuri: I’m just playing in Victor’s sandbox. It’s not even that good.
Phichit: Less self-depreciation, more rereading.
Phichit: How’s your original stuff coming?
Yuri: I thought you wanted less talking more revision?
Phichit: Um, yes. But that’s because you tell me about your OCs, but you won’t let me read any of that yet.
Yuri: It’s hand written. Do you really want to try and decipher my cursive?
Phichit: Yeah, you should get on typing that.
Yuri: All in good time.
Phichit: Is that new chapter up yet?
Yuri: You keep distracting me!
Phichit: Fine! Leave me to the woes of underclassmen’s chemistry homework!
Yuri: Finish your grading so you can actually read the chapter once I post it.
Phichit: Fine. Text me when it’s up.
Yuuri purposefully set the phone aside and opened the word document for his current Nikiforov AU. He resisted the urge to open Chrome, knowing that he would be sucked into the endless void of the internet and never finish his revisions if he did. And Phichit would pester him mercilessly until the chapter was posted. One of the downfalls of having an irl friend who reads your fan fiction, Yuuri supposed. The chapter was already written, and he’d been sitting on it for a couple days, so it only took an hour to make sure he was happy with it. Pulling up AO3, Yuuri went to his dashboard and pulled up On Strange Tides his AU of Nikiforov’s The Sailor’s Ruin. It was the same general idea if you squinted. The characters were the same. Yuuri loved the characters; that was why he started writing fan fiction. He wanted to explore the backstories that Victor hinted at, but never really touched. (And Yuuri was totally not going to admit that he referred to award winning author Victor Nikiforov as just Victor in his head. Or how often he thought about Victor. Or that he scoured the internet and magazines for any scrap of information about Victor. Nope. Not owning any of that.) So he borrowed Victor’s characters, put them in a completely different situation, and explored their backstories and character development to his heart’s content. His stories were much less plot driven than Victor’s but it seemed to work.
***
“What about this one?” Victor asked Chris.
“On Strange Tides,” he read, “an AU of Victor Nikiforov’s The Sailor’s Ruin set several hundred years before the source material, with more magic. And mermaids.”
“Oh, is that Yuuri’s story?” Chris asked, looking over his shoulder at the link Victor hovered over.
“Yuuri? It says the author is the-katsudon-writes…” Victor said, confused.
“It is Yuuri!”
“Chris, how do you know this?” Victor asked.
“I follow him on Tumblr,” Chris said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
“You actually read fanfiction on a regular basis?” Victor asked, but it wasn’t really a question.
“Of course. I’m in the publishing industry and it’s a surprisingly good way to scout new talent.”
“Only you, Chris,” Victor said, shaking his head.
“Probably,” Chris replied with a smile.
“How did you get into… this,” Victor gestured vaguely at the computer, “anyway?”
“I grew up reading Harry Potter just like everyone else,” Chris said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Victor gave a little shake of his head, a non-verbal, ‘so?’.
“Vic, sometimes I seriously wonder what sort of rock you grew up under.”
“I did not grow up under a rock!” Victor protested.
“Victor, darling, I’ve known you since college, and you totally grew up under some sort of rock. I just don’t know what sort,” Chris teased. Victor huffs.
“Back to the subject at hand…” Victor said pointedly. “Is On Strange Tides worth reading?”
“Victor,” Chris groaned, “reading the fic and discovering if it’s something you like or something you hate is half the fun! What sort of a friend would I be if I denied you the pleasure of searching for a good fic?”
“Chris.”
“If you like fantasy and lots of character development, then yes, read it. I would tell you to check out his Tumblr, because Yuuri is kind of a sweetheart, but I’m kind of afraid to turn you loose on Tumblr.”
“I handle my social media accounts just fine!” Victor protested.
“Yes you do,” Chris said, patting Victor on the shoulder. “Tumblr is… an interesting place. Why don’t you read the fic first, and if you want to creep on the author after that, I’ll help you navigate Tumblr.”
“Deal!” Victor said excitedly, grabbing Chris’ hand and shaking it enthusiastically. Chris just rolled his eyes.
“I’ m going home, Vic, but I started you a pot of coffee,” Chris said, patting Victor affectionately on the shoulder. Victor just hummed, already engrossed in the story.
“I may have created a monster,” Chris muttered softly to himself as he slipped out of the apartment.
***
Yuri: Next chapter is up.
Phichit: !!!!!!!