To any fic writers who worry they are wasting their time... I read a fic for a relatively small and inactive fandom about three years ago. And there was one specific scene where a character watched another dancing like an idiot to a beyonce song and it was so sweet and loving that even now years later I have that song on one of my spotify playlist so every once in a while it will play and remind me of that fic, and every time it does I smile and feel a little happier.
The stats on a fic will never really tell you if your writing touched someone. There's no numerical way to show you what impact you made. Maybe you are wasting time, or maybe you are writing something that someone will remember for a long time, something that will never fail to make them smile.
I remember reading a fanfiction on Quotev which I loved so much. In like 3 years I read it at least 10 times. It wasn't a short one either.
It also had a sequel, loved it just as much as the original. The author was also making a prequel, but it never got farther than the 1st chapter, I think. I was still hopeful and excited for it to be continued, because I've never found such a good fanfic in that fandom.
But then after a while, the author put a note saying they're gonna delete everything they've made. I didn't think much of it because even after a year it was still up.
And then it happened....
The 3 part series was deleted....
I've looked everywhere if I could even find it archived anywhere. Even just a snippet of it.
I couldn't find anything.
I don't exactly remember, but it didn't gain a lot of traction. It was Portal 2 fanfiction, so it most likely didn't.
I still loved it with all my heart.
Now I don't know why they deleted everything. They didn't say.
Maybe they got more mature and thought it was cringe.
Maybe they did it because of job reasons and they didn't want the employer to find it somehow.
Maybe they just started hating it.
Maybe they were ashamed they ever wrote that.
I have no idea.
All I know is that even after such a long time, I remember most of the story. Even the non-exciting parts.
I would do almost anything to have that fanfiction again. To be able to read it as many times as I want.
But it's impossible....
Eventually it will fade out even in my memory, and the other people's who have read it. Like it never existed.
My point is, just like the OP, just because not a lot of people see it, those few people might cherish it so much I can't even put it into words.
Please don't delete your works. There will never be any other that's like it.
Part of letter written by Anatoly Dyatlov to Toptunovâs Parents
Translation
Let me speak my thoughts, for the grievance is throttling me. The real causers of the disaster got off lightly, operators only were put in the wrong. We were presented as kind of cave dwellers. Even names of deceased, loved ones were left to their relatives blotted. They are telling you to remember that your son is a criminal, and he was lucky to die, otherwise he should clap into the prison. Murderers are running the show. The first of them is RBMK project scientific advisor and former head of the Academy of Science Aleksandrov A.P. He was lying for three years. Finally, he allowed himself some sincerity making a speech in the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Soviet Union on April 26th, 1989 (you can find it in the Pravda issue from April 27th, 1989), but in my opinion, he guessed that his sincerity will remain inside the Committee walls. If heâd make even such statement right after the accident knowing everything about it, we all could not be prosecuted.
~[ASDyatlov] June 1st, 1989.
A little over a year later and you were back in Pripyat. The consequences of this short lived colony was lost on most, and on those who know, it was merely swept aside. Any fates tied to the nuclear undoing of that night in April are sealed in the concrete, the sand, the boron- the graphite and the air around them. There was no one left to care who already don't, or who cannot.
It was a late night of drinking and reading for you. Once again at the hotel, you ended up ignoring your book in favor of staring out the window at a starless night. You saw easily the fountain courtyard where you and Legasov had walked with the dogs. You'd cried when you heard about their systematic execution, though you understood the ordinance. No longer little barkers littering the streets. No one left to place small hopes on.
A knock at the door and you started. You had to blink and rub your eyes from how they've glazed over. You replaced your glasses and opened your hotel door to none other than Legasov himself. He stood straight in that way he did, like he was bracing for something.
"Oh," you said quietly, then cleared the lack of speaking from your throat. "Good evening, Comrade Legasov."
It hadn't been long, but it'd been long enough since you'd seen him that to call him Valery felt inappropriate. He noticed this, or noticed something, and looked at the floor.
"Eh, yes, evening. I was wondering if..." But he looked down the hall before he finished his sentence. You tapped the doorframe and bit the inside of your cheek in indecision.
"Would you like to come inside?" You offered, the strain of unease apparent in your voice. If there had been cause for paranoia at the start of all this, then that had increased tenfold to this moment in time. Legasov nodded and you let him in, closing and locking the door behind him. You pressed your eye to the peephole and waited to see if anyone passed down the hall. No one did.
"Do you think they still have the rooms bugged?" You asked as you tore yourself from the door. Legasov had made himself comfortable on the sofa and held his head in one hand.
"They do or they don't. It doesn't matter. No one's listening for tomorrow."
You watched him in silence. He lit a cigarette. He was already graying and his skin was developing deeper marks. He had been closer than the rest of you, save Boris, so of course it would show faster. That didn't ease the ache of your heart any.
Grabbing a bottle of liquor and two glasses, you joined him on the sofa. You set up the glasses carefully and poured you both a hearty amount. You nudged the glass his way when he didn't immediately go for it.
"To the workers of the world," you said in a half-hearted toast, trying to coax even a smile from him. He didn't give one, but drank anyway. You took a sip.
"I've spoken to Ulana," he said after his drink. You licked your lips dry and replaced your glass slowly.
"Oh?"
"I assume you read about Vienna."
"I did."
He couldn't look at you. You wanted to make him look at you, but you didn't. And he didn't say anything else.
"What are you wanting me to say?" You asked in earnest. He tilted his head towards you.
"Anything. Condemn me or put me at ease. Tell me what you would've done."
The desperation forced its way through his words and you understood then. He pressed his hands between his knees and stared at the carpet. You cleared your throat.
"Any one of those would be dishonest."
Your response was intriguing enough that he finally looked at you with those eyes wide with curiosity.
"Even the last?"
"How could I possibly know what I would've done? I didn't have to do it. I can perhaps say what the right thing would've been, but even then... What does it matter?"
He rolled something invisible between his flat hands. "It matters."
You watched him. "You're going to change your testimony."
"Khomyuk thinks I should."
"And Boris?"
Valery chuckled. "You think I've brought this to him?"
"I don't know what to think. About any of this. Are you hoping to get the same answer from me and have a majority rule? So that you won't have to go to Boris?"
The look in his eyes was one of hurt and you hated that you caused it, but there was a sudden and quiet anger that had grown in you.
"I didn't mean-"
"Yes, I was angry when I read what you said in Vienna, because we sacrificed, we still sacrifice so much to learn the truth. Lives that were lost- our lives. But I also can't preach righteousness because I'm not you. Not even in that moment but ever. There's a reason it was you and not any one of us. So no, I won't condemn you but I won't free you of it, either. And if you ask me what I would do tomorrow, I'd tell you to leave because you know, you know I can't say."
Tears welled in your eyes and you forced another drink down your throat. Valery watched you in silence before he inevitably did the same. After a moment, he cleared his throat. You were both doing that a lot.
"But if it were you?"
You found yourself laughing at that, even if it was twinged with cruelty. "I'd tell them the truth, tell them all to go to hell, then damn the state in the same breath. How's that?"
Suddenly you were craving a cigarette so you took his that had been sitting half forgotten in an ashtray on the table. You inhaled deeply and cradled your head.
"But that's why it's not me, isn't it?" You murmured and blew the smoke.
"I'm a coward," he said quietly. You lifted your head.
"Maybe. Maybe not. What are you afraid of?"
"Being shot is at the forefront."
"Sounds reasonable enough."
"You, Ulana, and Boris suffering similar fates."
"Not ideal," you took another drag and passed the cigarette back to Valery. "But?"
He breathed, allowed the smoke to leave his lips lazily as he set his head back against the wall. He looked at you.
"What's a bullet to a dead world?"
You matched his position but pulled your legs up onto the sofa.
"Whatever the right decision is...I think that's the one you'll make tomorrow."
Valery nodded, his eyes wandering to the window over your shoulder. He rubbed his mouth.
"I miss the dogs."
"Me too."
"Do you still follow Khomyuk?"
You smiled a little at that. "Less so, now. Mostly for security's sake; we don't want any prying eyes and ears to get the wrong idea. But after being here, some doors opened up, so to speak."
"Well, there had to be some good."
You shook your head and took the cigarette back.
"Not in lies. Never in lies."
"You tell on yourself."
You nodded at him. "As do you. The question is, what's to be done?"
You smoked, passed it back. He smoked, stubbed it out in the ashtray.
"Tell them the truth. Prevent this from happening again."
"Or try to, at least."
"Well now, don't make me doubt."
The lighthearted nature the conversation was taking caused you both to smile. You rubbed your eyes. "Sorry. I'm just tired. Ready to be finished but knowing it never really will be."
"Especially..."
"Yes. What future are you sacrificing?"
It was a bold question, to say the least, but it didn't seem to shock Valery too much. Perhaps coming from you, it read differently. Perhaps he simply didn't care much anymore.
"My career. My friends."
His eyes found yours and did not leave.
"Irreplicable, but not irreplaceable."
"No," he shook his head. "Speaking the naked truth of it tomorrow but then being forced into silence for the remainder of my life, no matter how short it will be, is punishment enough. Never to speak it to those who understand it best, and can do the best with it..."
You put a hand on the arm that was propped upon the back of the sofa.
"Try not to overthink it. What you conjure up in your head is of no consequence to the truth. It can't be until you know."
"One could say the same for hoping."
Your hand slid to his and fingers found fingers.
"Well...then let us have the small hopes. I was thinking of those dogs earlier- the hope had to go somewhere, didn't it?"
"Space, science, and for what? To say we did and we can?"
"Isn't that what it's about?"
"I don't know. If I ever knew, I don't anymore."
"Well, we know the truth, and we know the right thing, don't we. To save as many lives as possible. If it's not about achievement, it has to be about advancement. To move forward."
Valery was now worrying his hand across his chin in a move fueled by unadulterated anxiety.
"I wish you could share this burden. That I could help you carry it. I will be there. It's the greatest measure I can offer, little as it is."
He squeezed your hand.
"No," he mumbled into the hand that graced his face. "It's just enough. Thank you." After a brief moment of silence he spoke again. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Life after this. You have more ahead of you, after all."
The thought saddened you. Not the life you would probably have, but that he assumed he wouldn't.
"I'm not sure, to be perfectly honest. More work, maybe settling down, but..." You chuckled in spite of yourself. "I run. I chase and I don't know if I'm meant for that sort of life."
"You could be."
"And you don't think you could be?"
Valery sighed. "I'm afraid it may be too late for me. Besides, I don't want to find someone only to leave them behind soon."
You watched him in silence. He smiled with every word the smile of someone speaking in full emotional honesty. A smile of acceptance, even if it was bitter.
"If it was something you wanted," he said. "It would be a shame not to try. And I, for one, think that some individual out there would be more than lucky to encounter you."
You blushed furiously and fiddled with your glasses, took a drink, did most but look at him.
"For what it's worth, and I mean this, I consider myself lucky to have encountered you," you said.
You knew, you both knew, that anything in this room was going nowhere. It had the appearance of impracticality, but how much of that was true? What was practical anymore
And him. Valery could not believe that time and time again you treated him with so much vulnerability and warmth, not to mention the physical affection when no one was looking. You had so much to do and he... he didn't have much ahead of him, did he? Especially not now. He was content with his cat and his career. He had only entertained this sort of emotion when he was younger. He'd settled with himself that he was awkward, generally bad at conversation, not very interesting- and you were none of those things.
A yawn seized you and broke the moment. Valery sat up on the couch and pulled his hand from yours.
"It's getting late, and I've kept you enough," he said, and stood before you could potentially argue. Though, what would you say? That you didn't want him to leave because you would miss him, and that come tomorrow, you may never see each other again?
He walked to the door and you followed. No, you couldn't keep him. Not without making things complicated beyond repair. Still, you held his arm as his hand grasped the door handle.
"Valery," you said softly. He turned to you. Hesitantly, with a knot in your stomach, you reached up and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "You are a brilliant man, and a good one. No matter what happens after tomorrow, I want you to remember that."
If he heard you after the kiss, you couldn't say. He simply stared at you, mouth agape. For a moment you feared you'd overstepped, which you certainly did, but that the affections weren't returned in the slightest. He closed his mouth finally, and looked at the floor.
"I- thank you," he said. He nodded to himself. "Yes."
I'm going crazy. She krem on my lin till I uhhhhh. Bits taken straight from the script luv u HBO I don't own your content 𫶠I love Khomyuk and Valery and Boris. I'm sorry I'm like this forreal I just wanna jump old man bones.
Fic under cut.
The hallway inside the Kremlin was long, too long, long enough to be a bad joke, and carved like white chocolate. You sat with Valery on that couch outside of the committee meeting room. You were both exhausted, but you carried your concern more physically. While Valery was collapsed into the couch, your back was straight and your eyes bounced from face to face.
"How did you sleep?"
Your head snapped to Valery, who looked as though he was trying to make casual conversation.
"Not well, but I knew I wouldn't. You?"
Valery sighed and shook his head.
"Not a wink."
"And no further word?"
Valery simply shook his head again. Your leg began to bounce on its own until Valery's hand found your knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was the shock, not the comfort, which halted you. Valery seemed to either not consider it impropriety or he didn't care.
You two stared at each other until Boris made himself known. He nodded to you then looked to Valery.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
Boris waited a beat, looking between you and Valery with shifty eyes. He cleared his throat.
"Khomyuk was arrested last night."
You shot up from your seat to stand but Valery spoke first.
"What? Why?"
"I don't know," came Boris' raspy voice. Valery was silent for a moment, and all you could think about was where Khomyuk might be, whether they had her in a typical prison, or someplace temporary, or someplace much worse. If they had hurt her. If-
Valery spoke your questions.
"Was it-?"
"Of course it was," Boris said. "I'm working on it."
You almost never spoke to Shcherbina out of turn- he was a very intimidating man after all- but you couldn't help yourself.
"Comrade Shcherbina-"
"I said I'm working on it." He looked between you and Valery. "What more do you want from me?"
Ideally, you wanted him to barge in there and demand answers from the Director of the KGB, or better yet, to let you do so. But you knew he wouldn't, so for the moment you let the bubbling fury go.
"Fix your tie," Boris snapped at Valery, who sat up and did as he was instructed. The secretary came from the meeting room and told them to come inside. It wasn't until Valery stood that you pulled from your thoughts and followed.
"Wait- let me take her seat." You grabbed the sleeve of Valery's jacket. He turned.
"It's not my decision," he said, rather forlorn looking. You looked past him at Boris.
"Boris-"
Boris turned to you sharply, and you thought he would chastise you for using his name, but he didn't.
"Stay put," he said. "You'll only cause more trouble if you go in."
With that, the two men walked inside and the door closed behind them. Dejected, you walked back to the small couch and sat. Khomyuk in the hands of the KGB. If they hadn't made her disappear yet, then it was only a matter of time before they did. Khomyuk was stubborn, same as you, but stubborness cannot delay a bullet to the brain.
You thought back to the day you met Ulana Khomyuk in earnest. Others were a shoe-in for assistant positions at the Institute, but not you. You fought for success. Good marks had never come easy to you. You would conflict tirelessly with those who doubted you but would soothe the offense with charm. But charm, like stubbornness...
You waited beyond a place of anxiety- a sort of half world between full awareness of the gravity of the situation, that any one of you could be next if you weren't careful, and a strange reassurance that if the KGB was at your heels, then perhaps there was truth to the work you, and all the other men and women, were doing. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, because would it at all matter if they were all dead?
Well, they would certainly all die, and sooner than any of them ever thought, but to be silenced was different. And now, all you could think about was confronting the silencer.
It felt like an eternity before the door finally opened again. Unfamiliar faces file out of the room, then Valery and Boris, and a man who strode past you had captured Valery's attention. You knew what this meant, and while you saw Valery gathering himself to confront this man, you realized something. Valery was known. Valery was constantly putting himself at risk, pushing and pushing until it was no longer safe, then retreating. If Valery pushed in this moment, you would be afraid of the consequences.
So, you addressed the man yourself.
"Excuse me?"
Behind you, Boris harshly whispered your name, and Valery held your arm. You ignored him. The elderly man turned.
"Yes? Do I know you?"
You cleared your throat, wet your lips, and tried to gather your courage. He was an unassuming man, but that meant nothing here.
"Chairman Charkov, my name is (y/n) and I am assisting Professors Legasov and Khomyuk and Deputy Chairman Shcherbina in the Chernobyl efforts."
He waited a beat for you could continue, but your words got caught in your throat.
"Yes?"
"I-"
What was happening to you? You were so we'll spoken and headstrong until this exact moment, looking in the eyes of arguably one of the most powerful men in the Soviet Union, and an image of Khomyuk's dead body floated before your eyes. If you did this wrong, would it ruin everything?
Before you felt like you'd fall apart completely, Valery brushes past you a bit.
"One of our associates was arrested last night. I mean no disrespect, but we were hoping you could tell us why."
"I'm sorry, I don't know who you're talking about."
"She was arrested by the KGB. You are the first Deputy Chairman of the KGB."
Valery's voice was tinged with irony and it scared you. Perhaps it would not be for the best if Valery handled this confrontation?
"I am. Which is why I don't have to bother with arresting people anymore."
Charkov gave you all a small, humble smile and turned to leave. Valery stepped forward again.
"But you are bothering with having us followed."
Now it was you who grabbed at Valery's arm and you said his name quietly, the was Boris had said yours. He was going too far, and only last night he was worried about you asking on Gorbachev's personality. Charkov turned to face Valery in a stark silence. Boris approached from behind you two.
"Professor, I think the Deputy Chairman is busy," Boris began. Charkov interrupted him.
"No, it's perfectly understandable. Professor, I know you've heard the stories about us. Even when I hear them, I am shocked. But we are not what people think we are. Yes, you're being followed. People are following those people. And those people," he gestured behind him. "They're following me. The KGB is a circle of accountability. Nothing more."
You watched as Valery shifted in his stance.
"You know the work we're doing here. You really don't trust us?"
"Of course we do. But you know the old Russian proverb: trust, but verify. And the Americans think Reagan made that up. Can you believe it?"
He turned to leave again. He truly was going to leave without addressing Khomyuk, go back to wherever he sits between meetings, and do whatever he does to innocent civilians. Your blood boiled.
"I need her," Valery said as a last ditch effort. Charkov turned back.
"And you will be accountable for her?"
"Yes."
Charkov shrugged as though it was nothing. "Then it's done."
Valery stuttered. "Her name is-"
"I know who she is. Good day."
Finally, Charkov leaves. Valery looked at you in shock, then you both looked back at Boris. You're all presenting the same degree of disbelief. Valery waited for Boris to criticize him, but he shook his head.
"No, that went surprisingly well. You both came off as naĂŻve idiots, and naĂŻve idiots are not a threat."
Boris took leave to follow after someone of equal power to him, to ask them questions about materials or finances. Now that it was only you and Valery, you allowed the mask to slip. You held your face in your hands.
"You did well," Valery preemptively assured you.
"I froze."
"Against a man like that? It was practically a survival instinct," Valery said quieter, then placed a polite hand on your lower back as you walked from the hallway and exited the building.
Valery had gotten a phone call of where to find Khomyuk: Moscow, near the hospital he'd asked her to visit. He'd have to take one of the helicopters if he was going to get there in a decent enough time. He wanted to go alone, thought it was for the best if you didn't follow him. The memory of you describing yourself as a dog, a kicked dog, that follows people around, haunted him. If he could get to Moscow without involving you, he would.
It wasn't that he didn't enjoy your company, quite the opposite. In fact, an ulterior motive for leaving you behind was that he didn't want to be seen with you more than necessary around the KGB. It didn't help that you both accosted the first deputy chairman in an open hallway in the Kremlin. He already put himself and Ulana at risk by insisting on her release. To indicate anything farther than comradery, such as friendship or something else, invited scrutiny and weakness.
Unfortunately for him, you'd bent the ear of a young officer that seemed keen on you and found out that a helicopter bound for Moscow was soon to depart with one traveler. When Valery exited his suite, you were waiting outside in the hall.
You startled him, that was certain, judging by the way he jumped at the sight of you. You smiled.
"You tried to leave before I found out?"
He sighed. "(Y/n...)"
"I feel so useless in that stupid hallway," you half joked. "And without you and Khomyuk, I'm useless here, still. Boris means well but he has nothing for me to do. And-" you hesitated. "I want to see her, Valery."
Your use of his name gave him pause, but that wouldn't sway him so easy.
"I'm not sure that-"
"Not sure. You're the smartest person within one hundred kilometers and you're not sure of two things within the past twenty-four hours, and they both have to do with me."
He looked at you like you were one of the one-hundred page packets of reports that come out of those Kremlin meetings. Like you were an unsolvable problem- or a problem it was up to him to solve.
That's when you realized why he was trying to leave you behind. You decided to do him the courtesy of not speaking this realization. However, almost as if you didn't need to, he seemed to understand.
"Alright. But...try to keep quiet, and keep your head down."
"Like you?"
Coming from anyone else, and going to anyone else, it might've seemed a cruel remark. But he smiled to show he understood your recognition of how he survives in these politics, just as if he were to crack a joke about dogs to you.
But he wouldn't. He would never.
You tried to talk to Valery on the helicopter ride to Moscow but he shut you down every time, and you knew it was for the best. Even if you asked him about the Chernobyl efforts, he was tight lipped. It was evening when you landed, and vaguely uniformed officers walked you through a jail, something that looked to be a transition location. That in particular bothered you, because where would Khomyuk have ended up if Valery hadn't intervened?
The officers walked you both to a cell and let you in. There Khomyuk sat, dressed it a nurse's garb, and she looked at you and Valery with a genuine, wide-eyed relief. While Valery stood composed behind you, you decided to take advantage of him as a guard and you collapsed onto Khomyuk with an embrace. She held you back and stroked your hair.
"I was so worried," you said. Khomyuk shushed you.
"Don't you dare lose sleep over me," she said. You'd never viewed Khomyuk as a motherly figure- you'd almost consider it a discredit. You didn't need a mother. What you needed was a mentor, and that's precisely what Khomyuk gave you.
You pulled away, half in shame, as Valery came further into the room and sat beside Khomyuk. You couldn't sit for the excitement. The room itself seemed to be peeling, collapsing inward. Perhaps that was how you were forced to look at everything anymore.
"Are you alright?" Valery asked.
"They didn't hurt me," assured Khomyuk. "They let a pregnant woman into a room with a... Oh, it doesn't matter. They were stupid, I was stupid."
You could only imagine. Khomyuk, like Valery, like you, was often too smart for her own good. Where Valery often played a long game, if Khomyuk saw an opportunity to fix something, she was damn well going to take it. It was impressive. It was terrifying.
"Dyatlov won't talk to me," she continued. "Akimov, yes, Toptunov, yes, but..." She looked over at you sadly. "Akimov...his face was gone."
You watched as Valery mistook her words.
"You want to stop?"
Khomyuk sighed. "Is that a choice I even have?"
There was a silence. You took a seat next to Khomyuk on the cell bed and she put a hand on your knee. Valery set his head against the wall.
"Do you think the fuel will actually melt through the concrete pad?"
"I don't know. A 40% chance maybe."
Valery chuckled weakly. "I said 50."
You smiled then, looking at him past Khomyuk. He was so charming when he was relaxed like this, and he almost never was.
"If anyone was curious," you spoke up, clearing your throat. "The numbers mean the same thing. 'Maybe'."
Valery's voice grew softer. "Maybe the reactor core will melt through to the groundwater. Maybe the miners who I've told to dig under the reactor will save millions of lives. Maybe I'm killing them for nothing."
He looked at Khomyuk, at you. "I don't want to do this anymore. I want to stop. But I can't. I don't think you have a choice any more than I do."
It made you wonder: how much of a choice would you have, if you asked? How far removed were you from the core of decisions, from the center of importance that you could actually walk away? Did it matter?
"I think, despite the stupidity, the lies, even this...you are compelled. We all are. The problem has been assigned and you will stop at nothing until you find an answer. Because, that is who you are."
It was turning too personal, too intimate between them. Part of it embarrassed you, as though you were intruding on something, and another part confused you, though you couldn't say why.
Khomyuk laughed. "A lunatic, then."
"No," you muttered. "If that were true, we'd all deserve to be here."
"No," Valery agreed. "A scientist."
Outside in the hall, Khomyuk told you and Valery about how the reactor core exploded after the engineers had pressed AZ-5, how Akimov and Toptunov both agreed, and how she believed them. She said she'd interview them again if they were still awake. Valery said they weren't.
Khomyuk was called to be processed from the jail. Sitting on the bench, under the bright lights and staring at sickening green paint, you began to feel a bit dizzy. Sleep continued to elude you.
"Does it ever feel," you began with your head between your knees. "That you're simply bandaging something?"
"It's all I ever think about," came Valery's gruff voice. You sighed at the floor.
"I've always found that funny, you know. People say that you should find a cure, not a bandage for a problem. But... without bandages, wounds bleed out before they can be sewn shut. Nobody knows what to do yet everyone doubts. You doubt."
You straighten to look at him. You can see the bags of your eyes in the reflection of his large glasses. "I doubt because we are gambling."
"Gambling is chance, this is calculated risk. You can muse and wonder if what you're doing is right by all those people, I can't tell you not to. But...day in and day out, you, Ulana, Boris, Tarakanov, you all push and push, you do everything you can and you don't even blink. Those miners know the risks they put themselves at. The boys we draft, the volunteers we send- bandages. And the patient can still die. The world can still end."
You stared at him and took his hand that rested between the two of you on the bench.
"Don't doubt. There's no time, and there's no purpose. It won't save you from the doubt of others, and I think that's the problem."
Valery closed his eyes and sighed. "Is that my problem?"
You squeezed his hand and his eyes opened. You were being quiet, as he asked, and no one was around to see. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the trance inducing nature of the room, but you felt uninhibited. You hand came up and brushed a piece of hair from his forehead. He only watched you, like it was some tragedy that could not be prevented.
You know what? Fuck you *throws yearning and unspoken feelings at you along with graphite from an exposed reactor core*
There's something really weird abt writing a (albiet fictionalized) real historical figure bc I find the actor hot buuuuuut who cares we ball anyway. Fic under cut.
It began with you, Boris, and Valery sitting anxiously in Boris' suite. The three of you sat at perfect opposites around the two phones on the center table, watching, waiting. At first, Boris tried to lighten the mood with some quips as he was known to do, and Legasov would humor them with small smiles, but you had eyes only for the phones. You were practically chewing through cigarettes; you never smoked before you came to Pripyat. You personally thought that it was unbecoming of a scientist, and found it ironic to inhale one dangerous chemical whilst studying another. But then, you were all likely in for a worse fate than lung cancer.
After hours, Boris stalked downstairs to the bar to soothe his soul with vodka, leaving you and the professor. You bounced your leg, wiped your eyes, smoked, took your glasses off only to put them back on, and flipped through packets of notes and findings. All the while, Valery watched you try to distract yourself with a half-broken heart. Everything about Chernobyl was tragic, and it was nearly impossible to pit one tragedy against the other. Valery would never forget the look on Boris' face when he told him about their new life expectancy. It was so childlike in its unfiltered shock that it caused him physical pain. But you- you hardly flinched. Khomyuk had commented once that you were hardheaded and that's why no one could prevent you from following her into the fray, so it made sense to her that you would accept your fate. But you were younger than them, being an assistant studying under Khomyuk at the Institute. Older than some of the men working the reactor that fateful night, but still too young for what little life you'd have left.
But then, at what age is the tragedy of it all cut?
Hours after those hours later, after Boris had returned and retired to bed, Valery still waited by the phones, smoking, almost standing guard. He looked an absolute wreck and couldn't remember the last time he'd looked in a mirror. And you looked about the same. You'd fallen asleep on the other couch, and it must have been a good sleep because you didn't move once. Your hair and clothes were messed from the ultimate position you took to stay comfortable. Valery had thought at many different intervals to wake you but could not bring himself to do so.
There was something about you that fascinated him. Perhaps it was the academic in him, but you were an enigma in many ways. Deeply likeable and charming whilst keeping your true self guarded impenetrably. No one knew anything about your life except Khomyuk, and she barely knew anything worth telling. It wasn't until he saw you completely vulnerable on the couch that Valery considered himself to see you in earnest. A brave soul, like them, too young for it all, like everyone else, rushing in headfirst even though no one asked you to; only you and Khomyuk had that in common. Maybe that's why you seemed so different. Even Khomyuk was serving out of a sense of scientific duty. Maybe you were too; either way, it bothered Valery.
He took a final drag off his dying cigarette and stubbed it out, then looked at the clock on the wall above you. Three thirty-six in the morning. He removed his glasses and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. You all weren't going to hear from Khomyuk tonight. He'd known it hours ago, but he didn't want to leave until you did. But since he was the only one awake anymore, he decided to call it off.
Valery stood and went to where you lay on the couch. He laid a gentle hand on your shoulder to wake you, and in an instant you sat up. Even half awake, you tried to be active and alert. When you found your glasses on the coffee table you put them on and looked up at Valery.
"Khomyuk?" Was all you asked. He shook his head.
"We're not going to hear anything tonight, Comrade. I suggest you get some sleep before the committee meeting tomorrow."
You groaned and lay your head back down.
"I was sleeping."
Valery crosses to shrug on his suit jacket.
"I meant in a bed."
Except you didn't want to go back to your room because you hated being alone. Maybe that's one of the reasons you chased Khomyuk to this desolate place. You wanted to help, of course, but what was worse was sitting at the Institute without her. Unbearable. You sat up again and stretched.
"It's too quiet here."
You stand and put on your own coat. You wipe your face of any wayward drool as Valery opens the suite door for you and you both exit.
"The entire city is deserted," he said as if you didn't know. It was his nature to respond with the truth of things even if it was obvious. It saved him from the awkward dance of clever turn of phrase and hidden meanings.
"I can't sleep in quiet."
You, Boris, Valery, and Khomyuk all stayed on the same floor of the hotel, albiet at random rooms since the hotel was relatively full when you'd come to stay, and even now that Pripyat was empty as he'd said, no one bothered changing rooms.
"I don't think I could go back to sleep anyway," you continued and Valery eyed you with interest. This was the most you'd ever spoken unprompted.
"We have to be at the Kremlin at ten."
"I just need some fresh air."
Valery stopped you both in the hallway. Even at this very late hour, he was paranoid about prying eyes and keen ears.
"I'm not sure it's the best of ideas to go stalking around outside right now."
"Just around the fountain."
"By yourself? And if you encounter agents?"
"I'll invite them to walk with me."
"Be serious."
"I am." And you were. Your face hardened at his buried accusation that you were being flippant. "I can't just lie down and stare at the ceiling. At least I can exert some of the anxiety. I appreciate your concern, but I don't believe I'll be arrested for taking the night air."
But even that was a lie because you knew, as you all knew, that any of you were a hair's breadth away from intense scrutiny under the watchful eye of the KGB. While yes, you doubted arrest, to be accosted was not out of the question.
"Then do you mind if I accompany you?" He asked. He was tired, he wanted to go to sleep, but more than that he did not want you to go out there alone. It suited level headed people to be paranoid in times like these, and he'd happily double or triple that paranoia if it kept his friends safe.
You nodded mutely and changed directions for the stairs. Once outside, you lit another cigarette and offered it to Valery, who accepted. Some of the stray dogs trotted beside the two of you. They were some of the saddest parts of it all, after the unspeakable human suffering. Alone, abandoned, left to fend for themselves. Even then, months later, it was becoming painfully apparent that they were starving, dirty and mangey. Still, you offered them some comfort where you could, such as during this walk, when you bent down occasionally to scratch them behind their ears.
It was a cloudy and starless night but the streetlamps remained as they always had, offering an illuminated glow every few meters. At some point, you glanced over at Valery. You'd made notice early on how he carried himself. He always looked at the ground, always took a submissive tone in conversation, except when it came to Boris. With Boris, he challenged. You weren't sure why, but you still hardly knew them despite the long hours and close quarters.
He looked especially tired, more than usual. You hadn't considered that he took as much a toll from Khomyuk's silence as you did. There had formed a strange sort of comradery between the four of you, teetering on friendship but never truly stepping over that line. At least not around one another.
But you were as impressed with Valery as you were Boris and Khomyuk. He was called to this as Boris was, but he also faced it head on as you all did. A quiet, diminutive man, one who naturally avoided conflict, he still managed to fight for the things he knew he needed to, even if he was powerless to do so.
And when you weren't looking, Valery was glancing at you, thinking all the things he'd thought when you were asleep, only now he was considering why you didn't want to go to sleep. Surely passing the time would end in finding Khomyuk sooner, wouldn't it?
"How are you feeling? About tomorrow?" He asked after a long period of silence. You ran a hand through your hair and Valery watched.
"Useless. I hate waiting outside in that hallway."
You were referring to the Kremlin and how you weren't allowed at committee meetings. It had been a struggle enough to get Khomyuk in that room that nobody much bothered with you. You understood, you didn't take personal offense, but you still hated being in that hallway.
"I doubt it will take long. Not that I know much going in."
"What is he like?"
Valery quirks up an eyebrow at you question. "Who?"
"The Secretary General. I've heard him speak on television and the radio, but what is he like in the room?"
Again, Valery took in the surrounding area.
"I'm not sure-"
"You're right. Sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
You shook the idea from you head and pet another stray as it came up beside you.
"Can I ask you a question, Comrade?" Valery asked rather suddenly, his hoarse voice catching in the cold air. You let your silence speak an affirmative. "What brought you here? Besides knowing Khomyuk. None of the public even knew about the accident until recently and none of them know the true severity. Khomyuk knew almost immediately and that's why she came. Why did you follow?"
You slowed and Valery matched your pace. You took a drag from the half forgotten cigarette. For a brief moment, you acknowledge that your lips and his have shared purchase on the thin paper and you suddenly blush. Thankfully, for the cold, it was unnoticeable.
"I've always been like these dogs. Ever since I was little. I find someone and I follow them around. Even if someone is mean and kicks, I'll still follow until I find someone nicer. Khomyuk was nicer. I felt I had to come with her. She has another assistant and he's more than capable of keeping the department going." You take another smoke. "I didn't want to be there without her."
He watched you as you gave your confession. You compared yourself to a dog and he was having a difficult time moving past that. It brought to mind Laika from decades before. He thought suddenly about a different time and reality altogether where he was in a position to give you a nickname, and he thought Laika would be suitable. He quickly shook that thought away.
"Noble," he said finally, though he didn't fully believe it. You laughed.
"Hardly. Stupid, truly. I'll run into anything if it means..." You stopped yourself because, for the first time, you were about to divulge a part of yourself to one of your colleagues here. Not even Khomyuk knew of your deepest insecurities. "Dogs run after their owners."
Valery wanted so badly to force the dog metaphor away with reassurances, but he didn't, because he didn't know how. He wanted to place a comforting hand on you but he didn't know how you would react. He wanted to say and do a great many things, but he couldn't, so he settled for continuing the walk with you in darkness.
Hi! Could you do something with the primary âbad guysâ Dyatlov, Bryukhanov and Fomin x reader? Not really going for anything specific, could be headcanons for each of them seperately or something with all of them (and the reader) together đł Either way, thank you!
The Monster Has Three Heads
Pairings: Viktor Bryukhanov x Reader, Nikolai Fomin x Reader, Anatoly Dyatlov x Reader
Tags: p in a, cunnilingus, foursome (?), voyeurism, degradation, praise, abuse of power đ˝
a/n: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH RAAAAAHHHH THANK YOU ANON!!!!! I LOVE THESE OLD MEN SOOOO MUCH UGGGHHH đŠđŠđŠ
during my research for this piece, i had discovered that the REAL nikolai fomin is still alive!!!!! mashallah hizar mashallah to that man, may he live forever so that i can meet him in person đđđ
we need more soviet fics in general.....valery khodemchuk is a man that we would go to WAR for, a man that we write EPICS for.
this was my first time writing something like this...normally i never write smut but i was so down bad for these men omg. characters might be ooc but idc, in this story they ARE in character teehee :3
enjoy! i hope to hear from you lil freaks in my comments and inbox as always <3
You were the latest addition to the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plantâand a force to be reckoned with.
When people first encountered you they were hypnotized, to put it mildly; your star-stunning looks were the least interesting thing about you.
Strangers and comrades alike can attest to the fact that you have an air of mystique and otherworldliness that imprints and lasts on everyone you pass by.
But your ability to bring intrigue isnât why you were hired at Chernobyl. No, it was your uncharted intelligence and experience that they sought out. Experience and intellect, might I add, thatâs difficult to find in the most seasoned veterans, let alone from someone decades younger. So naturally upon arriving at the first day of the job, the current engineers couldnât help but gawk.
Deputy Chief Engineer Anatoly Dyatlov was tasked with providing a tour of the facility and get you acclimated to your work environment at Reactor 4âa task that he felt was extremely below his pay grade and insulting to his status. He was all tight-lips and locked-jaw upon first meeting youâbut there was something about you, something that piqued Dyatlov to take a closer look.
While Dyatlov planned for the tour to be as crude as possible, your knowledge of the history and inner workings of the power plant had brought forth a refreshing wave in Dyatlov and his own love for nuclear power. There was nuance in your questions, there was empathy in your statements.
The tour concluded with a meeting with all of your supervisorsâDeputy Engineer Anatoly Dyatlov, Chief Engineer Nikolai Fomin, and the man who runs the show, Director Viktor Bryukhanov.
Despite being your direct supervisor, Dyatlov was seated next to you while you two looked across the table to Bryukhanov and Fomin. A clear power display.
Sitting in the small director's office, the tension was palpable.
âWelcome to the team, Y/N. Your references and our own higher-ups speak nothing but excellence from you.â Director Bryukhanov began. He leaned forward with his hands intertwined over the wooden table while keeping his warm eyes trained on yours.
âYes, we are very pleased to meet your acquaintance.â Spoke the sycophant Fomin. He pressed his glasses further up his nose as his eye contact with you was darting at best.
By your side came a scoff poorly covered in a cough. âOf course, we are so very pleased.â Deputy Dyatlov reiterated. When you turned to look at him, he met your gaze with unadulterated arrogance. Dyatlov was leaning back in his chair, head slightly tilted as if to challenge you to contest him.
You were staring into the jaws of the monster by being in this room, yet it was the most thrill youâve felt in so long.
Now this was a challenge worth fighting: to seduce the three-headed monster.
It was relatively easy to fit in with your new coworkersâas it always isâdue to your impeccable experience, skills, and charm, but you had your eyes on the biggest prize.
Compared to Leonid or Aleks who were constantly critiqued by a scowling Dyatlov, the most you got was a cursory glance at your work before he walked off to haunt another poor soul. No bite, no bark.
Bryukhanov on the other hand, made it a habit to extend a warm smile and greeting whenever he saw you in the halls, before turning back to his stone exterior once out of your eyeline.
Fomin, for the position he held, was seldom seen in the building. Only a handful of times had you actually seen him, and that's on his impromptu stress-cigarette breaks outside the administrative office. In those moments where Fomin held a cigarette to his lips, his eyes were drawn, head held upâunfamiliar from his usual meek appearanceâand he kept that gaze on you.
Several weeks had gone by since your hiring, and to say that your supervisors have been pleased would be an understatement. You were outperforming and outranking even the most experienced operators on your team, yet you remained humble and always was the first one to lend a hand.
So when you were called into Bryukhanovâs office, you had expected some sort of applause. Well, you surely had an audience.
Upon entering, you noticed your three direct supervisors standing and huddled together by the main desk.
Director Bryukhanov lifted his head and an immediate smile overtook his dark features.
âY/N, please sit down.â Bryukhanov placed a warm hand on the small of your back as he guided you to the seat in front of his desk. While you were seated on the chair, Bryukhanov found a seat on the corner of his desk table, looking down at you while you had to lift your eyes to meet his. Looking up at him from this angle, a foxy glint could be recognized in his eyes.
âY/N, you have truly excelled in the short time that you have come to work at Chernobyl, and for that we offer you the highest praise.â
âThank you, Director.â You responded, with a proud smile.
âNo need for thanks.â Byukhanov countered, reaching over and patting your thigh. âYour work deserves recognition.â His hand massaged the fatty part of your thigh while inching higher and higher. Your breath caught in your throat, you were finally getting what you wanted.
A single glance between you and Viktor was all that was needed. You felt a pair of lips attach themselves onto your neck from behind you, while hands roamed up and down your torso and your breasts. You leaned back, your body separated from Dyatlov's only by the chair.
Viktor's hand skillfully moved up your legs until his hand met your mound. He pressed his palm up against you, rubbing his palm up and down your clothed crotch.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Nikolai seated in the opposite corner of the room, leaning back in his chair while palming his growing hard-on with one hand and puffing on a cigarette in another.
Viktor kept his eyes locked onto yours as he lowered his body down from the desk and kneeled between your legs. With his warm hands, he peeled off your tights from your waist and off your legs. In between pressing sweet kisses from your thigh and towards your center, Viktor licked stripes on your skin and you shuddered in anticipation.
Behind you, Anatoly pulled and tugged at your clothed breasts before he undid the layers of clothing keeping him from your skin. Unlike Viktorâs skillful and delicate touch, Anatoly ripped off your white coat and your subsequent top and bra before he took your breasts in his hand.
âWhat a dirty girl, to be dominated and used by three men.â Anatolyâs thick Russian accent clouded your own thoughts. Without a warning, Anatolyâs mouth and hands were removed from your body and startled you from your trance.
âUp.â Anatoly snapped, and your body complied before your brain could process his command. Unbuckling and lowering his pants, Anatoly replaced your seat and looked at you like a father about to punish his baby girl. He patted his lap and you faithfully straddled his lap, facing forward.
âOh, you filthy girl, this is all you wanted all along?â Anatoly spoke as he rocked his hips back and forth, creating friction between his crotch and your ass.
In one ear, Anatoly filled your head with degrading affirmations; in the other, Viktor moaned in worship.
âYou beautiful, beautiful girl.â Viktor praised while spreading your achingly wet lips apart. He caressed your bud with his thumb as if he was leafing through gold flickers. Your hips involuntarily bucked at the edging from both sidesâfrom Anatolyâs torture and Viktorâs slow percision.
âPlease-â You moaned, falling back further on Anatolyâs chest and spreading your legs wider apart.
âWhat do you want, baby?â Viktor asked, rubbing his free hand up and down your thigh.
You tilted your head and shot him a whiny lookâa pout and downturned eyes.
âDo you want us to make you feel good, hmm?â Viktor pressed his thumb deeper and circled your clit. âDo you want to hear how well youâre doing?â
All you could muster was a meek nodâyour ego and persona long forgotten.
âOf course she wants to hear that, the attention whore she is.â Anatoly remarked before roughly taking your chin in his hand and turning your face towards him. Before you could protest, his lips wrapped yours and damn-near swallowed all the air in your lungs.
âOur sweet baby,â Viktor cooed as he kept circling your clit while his mouth had finally kissed your pussy. âYouâre so good for us, so goodâughââ Viktor moaned at the taste of your juices and you squirmed at his sensual, slow licks.
Between Anatolyâs tongue down your throat and Viktorâs tongue in your pussy, Nikolai had long taken off his pants and was stroking his cock in time with the menâs movements on you.
âShove it in her ass, Anatoly.â Nikolai demanded in between breaths, puffs of smoke escaping his nostrils.
âYeah, youâd like that?â Anatoly shot back, a smug smirk plastered on his face as he took you by the hips and lined his cock right up to your anus.
Granted, for all of his brutality, Anatoly was still slow and aware as he brought you back down onto his shaft. It still hurtâvery much soâand you still yelped and cried in pain, tears pricking your eyes and your muscles tensing, but contrary to his behavior, Anatoly brushed your cheek with his hand and kissed your neck.
âItâs ok, you can take this.â He whispered into your ear.
Viktor was face-deep into your legs when you had tensed all of your muscles, and thus trapping his tongue inside your walls.
âMmm, deep breaths love.â Viktor reminded, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your thigh as his warm tongue slowed and flattened outside your walls, giving you a chance to acclimate.
Nikolaiâs fisting of his cock had come to a slow. He tsked in annoyance.
âDid I say rock her to sleep? I said fuck her.â
Viktor and Anatoly shot a glance between each other before complying.
Despite your instinctual resistance, Viktor spread your legs apart with ease and kept them there as he went back to work on your pussy. Switching in between flat-tongued licks from front to back, and then diving sharp-tongued into your walls.
Your breathing was still shakey from the penetration, but your cries were more from pleasure than pain now. More torture than sex, you felt like a medical device to be proded and experimented with.
The humiliating gaze from Nikolai only added to the embarrasment and pain, yet it felt so liberating.
Anatoly began to rut his hips into your ass, causing sharp inhales and grunts from you.
None of this was pretty. Everything felt too rushed; yet all that mattered was that there was no control.
You had no autonomy. Your voice no longer mattered. You were given no thought, if any.
Despite the public display of humiliation and disgrace, you felt so free that you cried. The pain from the raw penetration; the suffocation from a life survivedânot lived; all of the power-moves you had to make to end up hereâall of that was worth it, for this moment of bliss.
To never think again. To never make another decision. To never move.
Finally, finally, all of that pent up internal agony could be transmuted into the physical, and thus forever leaving your body.
A final prod into your cervix from Viktor had brought your body into convulsionâmouth agape, but only a final sigh of air left your lungs. Eyes glossy as you lay limp in Anatolyâs arms.
Viktor peppered your inner thighs with kisses, moving up your stomach, in between your breasts, and up to your mouthâall the while singing your praises.
âMy beautiful, beautiful girl. You did so well. You always do so well.â
After wiping the cum off his hands, Nikolai had come over and pet your cheeks with the back of his hand, placing a kiss to the center of your forehead.
âYes, you are perfect. You are greater than perfection.â Nikolai whispered, as you were flowing in and out of sleep. Anatoly hummed in agreement, stroking your hair, all while still nestled deep in a hole that has bled to the point of ache, and ached to the point of numbed.
Perfection, control, and powerâthose are the three heads of this monster.
Liberation, unity, and humilityâthose are our saviors.
a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :)
DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions!!! comments are what keep writers going <3
feel free to check my pinned post for request rules and don't hesitate to drop in whatever chernobyl requests y'all have (hbo series or movie version both welcome đ)
Pairings: Valery Legasov x Reader, Boris Shcherbina x Reader, Anatoly Dyatlov x Reader, Aleksandr Akimov x Reader, Leonid Toptunov x Reader, Boris Stolyarchuk x Reader, Vasily Ignatenko x Reader
Warnings: none
a/n: this is based entirely on HBOâs Chernobyl and purely fictional.
requests are open for chernobyl đź
Valery Legasov:
Valery is a slow lover.
Valery is an older man who has grown used to his own solitude. A majority of his life has been spent on his academics and work, he didnât have neither the time nor the reason to invest in a relationship.
His whole life had been rushed past in a flurry, and it wasnât until he had met you that he finally felt the desire to want to savor each second.
On the occasional day off, expect at least an extra hour in bed spent lounging across each otherâs bodies, head to chest, nose to neck; coffee and tea brewing whilst birds proceed their own morning rituals; and if the weather permits, strolls through nature as you two fill the space between you with words.
Boris Shcherbina:
Boris is a classic lover.
Steeped in Soviet tradition and prestige, this man will bring you the moon and stars as he courts you
The money, gifts, jewelry, are a bare minimum to him. Over time as the two of you get closer, Boris will come to appreciate the things that neither power nor money can acquire: the preciousness of emotion; the treasure of connection.
Heâs a very stubborn man, but he gives you more of a leeway and will stop himself short and satisfy you. This man can never stand in a serious argument with you, itâll always go your way, much to his detest sometimes.Â
Anatoly Dyatlov:
Anatoly is the all-around Soviet man, and that applies to his love life.Â
Strict, rigid, and stubborn--but loyal. Once Dyatlov makes up his mind, thatâs it.Â
While you and Anatoly butt heads every now and again, that man will lay his life for you--that much has been promised from the day you two had begun your relationship.Â
His attitude and personality around you is gentler and calmer; his eyebrows wonât be so dug in all the time lol
At work, his mind often wanders to thoughts of you and he scribbles down those thoughts and ideas in the margins of his books.
Heâll pick up small habits from you here and there--smoke cigarettes less often, substitute a cup of coffee for water, etc--and he tells you that he does this because its âeasier to appease youâ or something along those lines, but itâs really because heâs finally seeing himself through your eyes; with that same gentleness and warmth that you offer him.
Aleksandr Akimov:
Aleks is the college boyfriend-turned-serious.
Akimov was always serious about you--seriously head-over-heels--whereas it took you some time to actually learn of the depth of your feelings for him.Â
Not to say that you were cruel or that you led him on, no, just that you didnât know if this relationship would pan out after the two of you graduated.
Akimov is a hearty boy full of passion--a great academician and a great lover, you are never left unsatisfied.Â
Itâs all smiles and giggles for the both of you as you two were constantly in your honey-moon high.Â
When you two arenât together, heâs nose in his books as swears heâll put you in the best high-rise that money can buy once you two graduate.
Both of you are two of the best students at your institution, and both of you keep trying to tell the other to relax before your brains explode but to no avail. Now you just spend some extra time studying together.
Leonid Toptunov:
Leonid offers an innocent school love.
You guys had gone to the same school since you were young children, all the way through high school.
You and Leonid had always been each otherâs closest friends for as long as anyone could remember.
There was always love between you--a light, spring childhood love taking itâs time to blossom.Â
By the time you were both in high school, Leonid was crushed by the suffocating weight of his own feelings.
You and everyone else in town were painfully aware of this, and you had wanted to relieve him of his pain but no, he wanted to do things the right way.
One warm, sunny Saturday afternoon, Leonid took you on a picnic and handed you a paper with a simple yet truth-bearing message.
With tears welling in his eyes--both from the grueling wait, and also at the physical manifestation of his love for you--you took him into your arms and squeezed all the doubt out of his body.
I love you.
Boris Stolyarchuk:
Contrary to the previous boys, Boris was an academic rival turned colleague.Â
Constantly pushing each other to the edge, every class session sparked in heated debate--at first it was about the topics, but then it was just competition to see who could think quicker on their feet, who was able to jump around and overpower the other. There was no better high.Â
You two were always vying for the number one spot at the university that at graduation, the school had no choice but to name you both valedictorians.Â
Quickly following graduation, you both were hired to work at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, ironically in the same unit and in the same control room.Â
It took some time getting used to, but you were finally able not to constantly spar with each other (Dyatlov had to get this point across through multiple meetings)
When you two finally started to work together, a new layer broke through. A camaraderie, a respect, and mutual attraction.Â
For all the hell you put each other through, you two were also unbelievable as a duo. The competitiveness doesnât go away altogether, but there is also a deep fondness and understanding of each other. No one can fully understand the depth of your intelligence, your wittiness, or comprehend the evolution both you and your mind had gone on--no one, other than Boris. And the same applies the other way. No one is as adept as you are with him.Â
Vasily Ignatenko:
Vasily is the cheeky boy who gets on your nerves.Â
He makes it his personal mission to set off each and every last one of your nerves, he thrives off seeing your blood boil.Â
You canât stand him, but you donât notice how youâre his only victim.
Eventually his teasing will give way to light-hearted jokes that give way to sincere compliments.
Vasily will keep his humor and his jestering throughout the relationship, for better or worse.Â
Beyond that joking exterior, Vasily is very observant of both the environment around him and of you as well. He memorizes everything about you, from the minute details to everything in between.
a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :)
DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going <3
Finally I came out from under the rock and we looked each other in the eye with this miracle. Now I spend a sick amount of hours trying to dig something out of this fandom that seems to be living quietly
Maybe something more will come out, since my phase of old sad nuclear gentlemen is not going away, I'm definitely more often on Instagram @/zmrocz
