#ulana/valery

[pedroam-bang]

Chernobyl (2019)

[live-long-and-time-warp]

“The team hypothesizes that at the time of the accident, frogs in the area that happened to be darker suddenly had an advantage in the new extremes of this environment, meaning they were more likely to survive and reproduce. After three and a half decades and more than 10 generations of frogs, dark skin is now the norm in the exclusion zone.”

[daincrediblegg]

“There was nothing sane about Chernobyl. What happened there, what happened after. Even the good we did, all of it. All of it… Madness.” - Valery Legasov, 1:23:45

[elenatria]

First pic: sweet desperate Boris, Tarakanov, Valery's cigarettes and the vodka he refuses to drink. That pic and the sixth one are the only ones, I think, we haven't seen before.

Source: Kinorium1, Kinorium2

[xenonaddict]

OMG ITS ALL MY OCs AS THE IRL PEOPLE THEY LOOK MOST ALIKE 😱 (plus the main three from the actual show itself) also I know about the whole Danny Masterson incident, he just happens to look like a skinny Alexei

[lifewithaview]

Stellan Skarsgård and Jared Harris in Chernobyl (2019) Please Remain Calm

Ep2

With untold millions at risk, Ulana makes a desperate attempt to reach Valery and warn him about the threat of a second explosion.

*After Ulana Khomyuk identifies the isotope that triggered the alarm as Iodine 131, a byproduct of nuclear reactor fuel, her coworker suggests "Ignalina". Ignalina refers to a nuclear power plant in Lithuania operating 2 RBMK-1500 reactors similar to Chernobyl's RBMK-1000 reactors. The decommissioned Ignalina power plant doubles for Chernobyl in this series.

[letsriottogether]

Circles

Another Valana fic that came to me yesterday night. At first I thought I would save it for later and implement it into Silence or something else, but I think it deserves to stand alone. This is going to be dark, so please 

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Title: Circles

Relationship: Ulana Khomyuk/ Valery Legasov

Characters: Ulana Khomyuk, Valery Legasov, Boris Scherbina, other characters

Warning: pls don’t hate me

________________________________________

He slowly sat down on a chair next to bed. It was quiet in the dimm room, Ulana managed to fall asleep for just a moment. His eyes were fixed on her face, which didn’t look calm even in her sleep, she must be still in pain. Small beads of sweat were forming on her forhead, running down her pale skin, eyebrows curled together, hair wet from sweat stuck to her temples. He couldn’t help but notice how the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes ran much deeper than when he first met her in that sad empty hotel in Pripyat not even two years ago. If only they knew what future planned for them.

It wouldn’t change anything anyway

He put his glasses down on the bedside table and took her small hand in his big ones, resting his elbows on the mattress in process. Ulana stirred in her sleep but did not wake up, for which he was thankful. He pressed their joined hands to his forehead, clumsily planting soft kisses around her wrist. He slowly exhaled and pressed her hand against his stubble cheek. His eyes then drifted from her face, down her frame, resting on her belly protruding almost unnaturally from her noticabely thinner frame. The pregnancy took its inevitable cost on her, given to her age and radiation exposure in Chernobyl. No matter how much he tried to keep her away from the 4th reactor back there, she got her dose, and being around the victims in Moscow hospital wasn’t really a safe alternative. 

Oh well. He mentaly chuckles to himself, even if sent army, she would always fight her way back, not being able to withdraw until the puzzle was solved, even if it would mean she would be dead within a month.

Ulana’s soft moan distract him from his thoughts. Her other hand is clutching the white fabric of the sheet that’s draped over her frame, mouth pouting in discomfort. He puts one of his hands on her belly, hesitantly caressing it, feeling small movements underneath. He knows Ulana will be awake soon, facing this hell, completely new kind of one for both of them. He feels even more lost than when he saw the reactor building split open, that was someone else’s fuck up that he had been called to solve and clean up. But this? This was completely and utterly his work. He knows that it takes two to make a child, but somehow feels more responsible for all this, for her suffering, for the life inside of her that is destined to be born with some sort of physical defeat, with inner disabilities (he cannot help but remember Lyudmila Ignatenko’s daughter), or maybe even born dead. He’s the one who should protect her from all of this and in the reality he ends up silently watching as week from week she gets worse, black circles under her eyes bigger, bones sticking out from underneath her marble skin no matter how much he’s making her eat, even contemplating feeding her during her worst moments. The bitter truth lingers in the air anyway. Even if they both weren’t banned from the outside world, from medical care, what would it matter? There was no help for the effects of radiation.

Please don’t let her suffer

With a loud groan her eyes open, blinking, searching around almost as if she had forgotten where she is. He immediately squeezes her hand and their eyes meet. She still looks exhausted, those few minutes of slumber helping only a little.

„How long was I asleep?“ she licks her dry lips, her voice raspy.

„Only for a moment,“ he replies, stands up a caresses her hair and hands her a cup of water. She nods in acknowledgement, taking a small sip with his help. Suddenly her breath turns deeper, she shifts her body and the sign of discomfort grows bigger in her face. He already knows this part, another contraction is coming. Not a long after that a wave runs through her muscles, her hands immediately fly to her belly, clumsily caressing it, sweat pouring down from her forehead, down her neck, down her spine. She’s biting her lip, keeping herself from screaming out in pain as the contraction grows stronger.

Valery sighs in frustration and runs hands through his thinning hair. He could explain to you how a nuclear reactor works, now also how to put out a fire if such reactor explodes, but when it comes to this, to normal life problem or these ‚women things‘, he is completely lost. He sits down on the edge of the bed, taking one of Ulana’s hands so she can squeeze it as hard as she needs. No matter how weak she might seem, she still has her power, he thinks to himself and is absolutely sure that there is a good chance she will crack at least one of his knuckles or simply leave nail marks on his freckled skin.

Ulana shifts her body again, pulling her legs up, bending them in the knees to support herself better. The pain gets weaker as the contraction fades away. She exhales and collapses back to the pillows that are stacked up behind her, to give her at least some comfort. 

Her eyes turn to Valery with a small reassuring smile, when her scream cuts through the air like a knife. A new kind of pain takes over her body, different one, and panic washes over her. She went through labor back when she was younger, she can remember how it goes, and this definitely wasn’t a contraction. This was something else.

Valery sees the horror in her eyes and freezes for a moment. Ulana’s hand grips on the white sheet covering her body and tears it away, swiftly pushing it to the side. She can feel something sticky on her inner thighs, making a small pool between her legs.

„Valery!“ her voice trembles with desperation, which finally has effect on him. New energy in his veins kicks in, he lets go of her hand and in one swift motion he’s at the door, flicking the light switch on. That’s when he sees what she already knew. Her crimson red blood shining out from the white sheets, and he can’t help but notice how her skin turns one shade paler. She’s breathing heavily, staring at the bloody cloth. Suddenly there’s deafening humming in his ears, breath catches in his throat and he switches to automatic. He runs out of the bedroom door, heart pounding loudly. He hears himself as if from a distance calling over his shoulder that he’s going to get Nastya. Or was that only in his head?

Nastya was almost like an angel sent from heaven, as much as they both refuse to believe in such things. Once Ulana and Valery were moved to new much smaller apartment, it was as if neighbours were already warned that they are blacklisted from normal world. And then Nastya moved to the apartment above. Old lady, with heart as big as Russian land, with witty comments and loud laugh. She immediately fell in love with the couple, not caring about any restrictions. She understood there was a secret surrounding these two. But when Ulana started showing, it was just so natural to offer them her help. She used to be a midwife after all. Oh, how many lives these hands helped to deliver. And now, her skills were needed more than ever.

Valery runs through the dark apartment, stumbling over shoes he meant to put away, almost falling down to his feet. In the distance he can hear Ulana’s whimpers. He opens the door to their apartment, leaving them wide open. He runs the stairs to the upper floor as fast as a fifty year old man can, his lungs and muscles in his legs burning. He starts franzily bashing at Nastya’s door and in a second her face appears in the doorway. From his expression she knows it’s bad. She pushes him to the side and starts waddling as fast as she can downstairs to Legasov’s apartment, her lips anxiously smacking as she straightens her old apron.

What she sees in their bedroom only confirms her fears. She rushes over to Ulana and starts checking her, pulling her legs open a bit wider to see better, so she can examine her, muttering under her breath.

Dievochka moya…

Their eyes meet, tears rolling down Ulana’s face. There’s no point in lying to her that everything is going to be just fine, she’s not stupid. Nastya’s expression softens, she shifts her stubby body to the younger woman and makes a small cross on Ulana’s forehead with her chubby finger. Valery watches this intimate scene between the two women, as if Nastya was Ulana’s mother and can’t help but feel a bit ashamed they had him as a witness. His hands are grabbing the door frame as he’s leaning on it, his knuckles turning white. There’s got to be something he can do. Fuck the KGB, fuck the ban of contacting anyone, fuck them for not allowing them medical care. He finds himself standing at the phone, not remembering he even left the bedroom filled with the smell of sweat and heavy sweet taste of blood. Of Ulana’s blood.

His fingers dial the number to call an ambulance. His voice raging, as soon as he gives the address and the name, there’s a small hesitation followed by silence on the other side of the phone.

„Are you there? This is an emergency! Send the ambulance now!“

„Yes, comrade,“ and the phone clicks.

Valery clenches his fist and hammers it against the wall in frustration. He would be surprised if the ambulance actually came. He can hear sheets ripping from the bedroom, Nasya’s soothing voice trying to calm the mother to be. All of the emotion a man can feel are running through him. 

Endless love for the woman who is sweat drenched lying in the next room, trying to survive birth of their child.

Admiration for all she has gone through, for all the things that are still to happen.

Gratitude for being with him, for choosing him, for coping with his sometimes annoying bachelor habits.

Happiness from all the small moments they shared, from just the simple fact of being together, near each other.

Sadness that in moment like this, when he would need someone to slap him to senses, Boris is god knows where. That he cannot tell his best friend what is happening in his life right now. Boris, I’m gonna be a father.

Shame for feeling completely useless, for not being able to get them better life even for their limited days together.

Betrayal from the world he grew up in, that he used to trust. The great soviet will take care of all its children. Well, of all the good behaving ones, he bitterly thought. He never ever wanted to play some political charades, he was just fine with his position at Kurchatov Institute, no need to climb up the social ladder. Surrounded by scientists, by knowledge, that’s where he felt content. And this knowledge sucked him into the madness called Chernobyl. He was only doing his job, helping to save others, to prevent further explosions and spreading the radioactive particles across the whole continent. And as a scientist he had to say truth about the cause. And this was how the party pays him?

And this all leads to one emotion that begins to swallow him.

Anger. Deep, raging anger.

After a moment of hesitation he picks up the phone again and dials familiar number, hoping to hear the deep voice of their friend Scherbina on the other side. Instead, only mechanic beeping is ringing through the plastic, penetrating his ear. This number has been disconnected, no longer belonging to Boris.

Fuck, fuck this, fuck them all

And it all ends with resignation.

/////////

Few hours pass, it’s still dark outside. At the horizon a slight strip of a bit lighter dark blue can be seen, announcing that the sunrise is coming to lift up the darkness the night has brought. The Moscow streets are empty, only few windows are lit, the city peacefully sleeps, resting before another day comes.

The Legasov apartment is silent. Nastya disappeared a moment ago, knowing there’s no place for her now, not for what’s about to come. Even though she has no idea how many years she will be here on this earth, she knows one thing for sure – until her last breath, she won’t forget this night. Who cares if there will be any consequences for her after tonight. She made a cross on her wide chest and muttered a small prayer for the life that has been born today, as she tried to calm her horrified mind and replays the scene.

Few moments earlier:

Ulana’s never ending panting and groaning changes into one last agonizing scream. The sound dies on her lips as a small weak cry echoes through the room, the newborn life sliding into Nastya’s hands.

„It’s a boy,“ she whispers and looks at Ulana, who is hypnotizing the tiny body, squirming, clearly unhappy with the change of its surroundings.

Valery is by her side, he has been the whole time, and plants a kiss on her temple, relieved that at least this part is over, proud goofy smile on his face. She looks at him her relieved expression slowly changing, the unspoken question in her eyes. Valery nods and steps to Nastya, who skillfully tied the umbilical cord, her gaze is now glued to the whining newborn, horror written over her features. And then he sees it too.

„Oh no…“

„What.. How is this possible?“ Nastya stutters. Valery takes the boy wrapped in a blanket to his arms, studying him, looking him all over. Instead of baby blue eyes accustomating to the new world, there’s.. Nothing. As if his eyelids simply coalesced with the skin of his soft cheeks.

„Valera,“ he can hear Ulana calling him, but he feels as if his body and his mind are in trance.

„Valery! What is wrong with him?! Give me my son!“

He looks over his shoulder and winces. Ulana lays sprawled on the bed, her skin sickly white more than ever, her boney arms pointed out to him in gesture to take the wrapped baby in her arms.

„His eyes…“ he whispers, somber look on his face. He hesitantly walks to Ulana and hands her the small squirming bundle. Her arms immediately wrap around her son, tears streaming down her face, sobs shaking her body.

„We knew this would happen,“ Valery says with trembling voice, getting down on his knees to be at her eye level. She looks at him with those blue piercing eyes, she knows all of this, she knew all along it would end up like this. Guilt washes over her. If only she noticed sooner that she was expecting, if only she wasn’t so daft when it came to women’s problems and herself. She would have… done it differently. Looking at their son, she couldn’t help but feel ashamed as the word ‚abortion‘ ran through her head. And anyway, back then at almost four months along and her age it would most likely mean a death sentence, especially under the conditions that applied to her and Valery. And again, she was left in a situation with no other choice than to carry on and hope for better tomorrows. Yet she couldn’t help but blame herself for putting both him and her and this innocent life through this.

Her gaze turns back to her son, and just like any other mother she begins to examine him, smiling sadly as he waves his tiny hands in the air. Valery watches them, his insides in death grip, thoughts in his brain running at speed of thousand miles per hour, hundreds of other diseases and complications enter his mind that can be invisible to them, but still can be occurring in this small body.

He vaguely notices Nastya standing beside him and turns to her. She steps aside, a bit away from the bed Ulana is lying on, and starts whispering urgently to Valery:

„I cannot stop the bleeding,“ and nods her head towards Ulana.

„What?“

„Ulyanochka… She’s been bleeding all night-„

„Tell me what to do, how to help her“ he begs, the situation dawning down on him. Nastya only shakes her head.

„I’ll try to call someone. You stay here and pray for her. Pray for them both,“ with that, Nastya emerges out of the room, determination shining in her eyes.

Valery hangs his shoulders down, hopeless. His gaze wanders to the scene on the bed, where exhausted Ulana coos at their son. He only hopes that Nastya will be back with the help in time.

He walks over back to them, Ulana raising her eyes to him, smile lighting up her face. Even though she’s tired beyond words, her hair is sticking to her skin, she’s still the most beautiful thing he‘s ever laid his eyes on. With slow motion she scoots to the side to make room for him and pattes the mattress, gesturing him to lie down. He obeys, making himself as comfortable as possible with his back propped up against the headboard, Ulana cuddling to him, holding their son. His arms encircle her and the small bundle.

The paths of life can be so unpredictable…

He can hear her start humming some old lullaby he could not recognize. The tenderness of her voice revealing him another side of her, that until now she was trying so hard to hide.

„That was beautiful,“ he whispered and kissed her into her hair.

„It’s byelorussian. My grandmother used to sing it to me, but I cannot remember the words. Only the melody remained,“ her voice trailed off. Silence took over the room, only every now and then quiet baby noises could be heard. Outside the sun was slowly rising, shining over the sleepy city, shining through the dirty glass on them.

„Valery, promise me one thing,“

„Don’t. Stop it, right now,“

„We both know that some things cannot be avoided no matter how much we wish they would disappear,“

„Have you ever wished to go back in time? Change your mind and never coming to Chernobyl?“ he asks, knowing that at some point they both came across this question in their mind, his pathetic attempt to turn the conversation somewhere else.

Ulana sighs, looks out of the window, then back to their son and finally lays her head down back on his chest.

„I only wish we had more time. Or that we had met before. But I think that our paths would be anyway connected with Chernobyl. No matter what happened, no matter what is stil going tol happen, I do not regret any choice I made since that April morning,“ Valery silently nods. Her breathing is getting heavier, she speaks slowly. Her whole body relaxes against him. Where the hell is Nastya?

Another silence, almost sacred, both feeling something inescapeable, fateful in the air.

Ulana lifts her head to him, and it breaks his heart into million pieces as he can see the flame in them slowly dying away.

„Take care of him. For as much time as he has,“ she whispers. Words get caught in his throat and he looks at the sleeping infant, gently rocking him in his arms.

„I will,“

She contentedly closes her eyes, single tear sliding down her cheek. He bends down, planting soft kiss on the skin of her forehead. Her eyes flutter open, and she lifts her head to meet his lips in a slow yet powerful kiss. As they break apart, he rests his forehead against hers and hears her whisper:

„I love you, Valery Aleksiyevich,“

„I love you, Ulana Yuriyevna,“

He starts planting small kisses all around her nose, cheeks, making her chuckle.

„Have I ever told you the story of how Schrebina destroyed a phone?“

She slowly shakes her head and rests against him.

„We just tried the robot on Masha roof, it was sent from Germans. Of course, the robot died after few minutes. We all were trying to absorb the reality, of what it meant, while Scherbina ran out like a bull after a red flag. Back in the trailer, oh, you should have heard him the words he said to the poor guy on the phone. He learned that the party gave Germans official numbers regarding radiation levels, which was his undoing, as he kept smashing the earpiece against the phone,“ Valery went back in his memories to that day, which made them unmistakably send many men to die ‚for the greater good‘. He couldn’t sleep few nights after that, but decided that to keep his mind sane, he has to focus on these small moments, to help him carry through the darkness.

As he took another breath to continue, he felt Ulana’s body grow heavier on him. His whole being froze, as her hand slid down from the blanket in which their son was wrapped. Tears filled his eyes as reality hit him hard in the face, knocking out every single atom of air hiding in his lungs. He moved a bit to the side, so he could see her better, placing their son between them, taking her empty face to his hands, her eyes still halfway open, but the burning fire in them was gone. Sobs were shaking his body violently, as he closed her eyelids and placed a soft kiss on both of them, whispering over and over.

„Ulana moya, moya Ulyanochka…“

 ////////

If Chernobyl cut his life into five years living expectancy, that night took another half of that.

In the early morning, when finally KGB allowed anyone to get to their apartment, his son died in his arms, while he was watching the paramedics wrapping Ulana’s limp body.

As much as he was trying to be ready for any possible outcome ever since the moment they learned she was pregnant, nothing could ever prepare him for this. He was never able to sleep again in that room, keeping it locked away. Only in moments of despair and a lot of vodka in his system he would allow himself to go inside and weep everything that he lost.

He never got to know where Ulana nor little Valentin Valyrievich were buried.

To his great surprise, Boris was allowed to visit him twice, for no more than fifteen minutes. The first time Valery could have sworn he was on the brink of drinking himself to death.

As the April 88’ got closer, he knew one thing for sure. He has to collect everything he knows, everything he remembers. Not for fame, not to boast about his knowledge. For the memory of all the lost lives, for all the hope that has been taken away from so many people. In attempt to prevent this from happening ever again. He had to say it, all of it. For her. For them. 

On the second year anniversary of the Chernobyl disaster, the night which started a completely new chapter of his life, he brought the circle to end and at least this part of his existence took in his own hands, taking his life with it.

[omgitshelenm16]

I thought I’d make these cause why not

[kajaishere]

They were looking at each other, their heads lazily lying on the wall behind them. They understood each other. As two scientists, they understood.

Ulana blinked a few times, looking at Valery.

Their eyes met.

They were looking into each other's deep eyes, Valery feeling a tingling sensation in his stomach. He couldn't keep a straight face anymore and as unnoticeably as it happened his lips curved into a small smile. It lasted only for a part of a second, but for what it was worth, it was a smile...

Okay, I probably need a therapist, but I really see a small smile forming on his face. Am I right or am I just way too in love with them?

[catharsis-in-a-bottle]

My thoughts on Chernobyl (2019 HBO series)

I watched the entirety of Chernobyl, and I want to make a disorderly list about it. Okay, here goes:

First of all, holy shit. Holy fucking shit. This is easily the best thing I have ever watched, ever. I will give my reasoning below, I just want to get that out of the way: holy. fucking. shit. I have so many feelings.

Okay, okay. *Deep breath* Let's start off with the actual real-life event itself. Of course I'd heard of the Chernobyl disaster beforehand, but I had never learned about it beyond vague internet articles that I read years ago. This show knocked me away with the horror that holy shit, that actually happened, and it also re-strengthened my already skyrocketing fear of radiation / nuclear disaster / the works. Now I am obsessed with learning more, even with all that I've learned from the show itself.

Next: the acting. The goddamned ACTING!!!!!! There was ZERO cheesiness, and I felt every SECOND of terror and grief and the split-second, occasional relief that characters like Legasov got to feel. To put it simply, the acting felt real and authentic.

And as a side note, I liked that they didn't try to fake Russian accents. They didn't need to, and I am glad they did not, as that definitely would have made it feel cheesy with the use of non-Russian actors for the leads.

Valery Legasov. I want to learn more about Valery Legasov. I feel so sad for Valery Legasov, because he died without witnessing the reform of the RBMK reactors; he died thinking he was alone, discredited, and essentially wiped from existence. I am so profoundly glad that his story got recognized via his audio recordings, and eventually more so by this show. Jared Harris as an actor just blew this out of the fucking ballpark. I especially loved his nonverbal gestures - the constant head-in-the-hands, all the signals of deep stress, and the occasional smiles that signified a small amount of relief.

Because fuck, who would not be terrified out of their goddamned minds at the splitting open of a nuclear reactor? What scared me along with that was the initial denial - "Oh, the reactor isn't open. That's impossible." The signs were there, but so many surrounding people simply denied that it had occurred, until they actually saw what was happening. Even then, the explosion was inexplicable until the knowledge of the graphite-tipped control rods came to light.

Valery and Boris as a duo were fantastic, because truly, they could not have accomplished what they did without the other - Valery worked out the science behind possible solutions to the problem, and Boris used his political authority to actually work through those solutions and get the resources required to work through them.

Ulana and Boris watching Valery on that podium in episode 5, giving that testimony, essentially consigning himself to death - that hit me right in the gut. And even though Valery did not get shot by the KGB, they still ended his life, didn't they? From his perspective, he was no longer an influential scientist; by speaking up, he reduced himself to a nobody.

The fucking.... blue beam in the sky above the reactor??? The radiation ionizing the air????? This entire series is literally more nerve-wracking than any horror movie

Alright, now for the paragraph I've been waiting for: the MUSIC. Oh my fucking god, the music. How can I even describe it? All those wobbly bass notes that sound like a ship rending apart in the ocean... just... they did it right. They did it correctly. What I really loved was that at some points, I couldn't tell what was the music and what was the noise of the action occurring in the show. For instance, in the last episode, there was a sort of humming-buzzing noise in the flashbacks to the control room before the explosion, and I couldn't tell if that was the machinery or the music, or perhaps a blend of both. I looked on Spotify, and my favorite track is definitely the one titled 'Evacuation' - I think it plays in a couple of episodes, perhaps the end of the first / second? And the chord progression at the end there with those bass notes just fucking slamming in. Holy shit. Oh AND the choral composition at the very end of the last episode!!!!!! My brain's reaction to that was literally just exclamation points. !!!!!!!!!! Creepy singing chord progressions!!!!!!

The dogs in episode four - do I really have to explain the feelings of disgust and horror that just slithered within me the entire time

Really, the two scariest things were this: the disaster + radiation itself, and the inability to contradict the state or show any sign of weakness within Soviet Russia. Those were the two main antagonists presented, and though the first one more directly scared the shit out of me, the latter definitely contributed to an overall chill.

I could definitely talk more, but I choose to end here. I just. Holy shit. (I have said that a lot now). I'll say it again. Holy shit. I'm just going to stop talking and write the goddamn tags

[g0ryforests]

~ It has arrived!

[live-long-and-time-warp]

We’ve finished Phase 2 (Valera the stork and the pines) and have moved solidly into Phase 3 - the foundation of the watercolor!

The trees have been shaded and now the fabulously talented Ely Wick has begun the building blocks for the watercolor. The colors in the trees will vascilate from shades of green to red, orange, and rust. This will represent the trees dying from radiation, which transformed the once healthy forest around the Chernobyl NPP into a radioactive graveyard. What is now called the Red Forest remains one of the most contaminated places in the Exclusion Zone.

The trees surround Valery Legasov, represented by the stork. They trap him in the poisonous wasteland that he did not create, but made himself responsible to protect. Standing guard against the beam of ethereal, deadly light.

The beam behind Valera could be many things. My friend Molly said it reminded her of fuel rods. The first moment I saw it, I was reminded immediately of the beam of ionizing radiation that shot out of the reactor after the final, catastrophic explosion.

Next phases will include color, 3 new flowers, the final line from the HBO show, and a friend for Valery… his closest friend there… *hint hint*.

P.S. the beam was not my idea, nor was it a part of our original design. I honestly think Valery and Boris are somewhere in the ether saying to Ely, “look, we didn’t think the person telling our story would be a queer American girl with a lot of tattoos, but this is where we are, so here’s what we want…”

[daincrediblegg]

"And this, at last, is the gift of Chernobyl. Where I once would fear the cost of truth, now I only ask: what is the cost of lies?” - Valery Legasov, Vichnaya Pamyat

[elenatria]

I swear I was only looking for Valoris reference pics...

I was doing a google image search for a better quality version of a Valery pic, and not only did I find it in high res, I found a BUNCH of pics I had never seen before. *___*

There's one more publicity shot from their first Kremlin scene but I've never seen this one before. Look at Boris' deadly glare, tilting his head to the side as if he's about to chew off Valery's face. And those massive fingers. <3

Boris Shcherbina towering over incompetent fools.

Is Valery tied up? Or maybe Boris sees him that way...

First night together. 💗 As Pikalov put it, "There's a hotel... 😉".

That Boris profile. ❤💗

Seeing them from the back during the rooftop scene.

Suspenders porn. Is Valery sneaking glances at Boris while revealing just a few tantalizing inches of his suspender? "I swear it was completely by chance."

...And that explains what Boris' massive hands are doing there. 👇

Boris has no choice but to spring to his feet and get a closer look at those naughty suspenders.

Sad Boris is sad. TT__TT

...but at least now he has someone to look up to.

Look at Boris' compassionate look as he gazes at his Valery who is burdened with a horrible dilemma. 😭

A clearer, more detailed photo than the other Valery/Ulana publicity shot we have and guess what, the deputy director of the Kurchatov institute loves him some Шекспир. 😁 Makes me wonder which play of The Bard is his favourite one.

The day of reckoning...

But before their world falls apart, before they lose each other forever, they have one last moment, they have The Bench.

They will always have The Bench.

💔

Btw why is that guard smiling wtf. Does he ship them too??

P.S.: It does make you wonder though just how MANY other Chernobyl publicity shots are out there and we haven't found them yet.

And I mean it's been years.

[stannisbaratheon]

CHERNOBYL (2019) 04. THE HAPPINESS OF ALL MANKIND

"I've known braver souls than you, Khomyuk. Men who had their moment and did nothing." REWATCH MEME: FAVORITE QUOTES (2/10)

[dank-hp--memes]

The Greater Good [Chapter 1] (a Chernobyl HBO Fanfic)

It was half-past midnight on Saturday, April 26th, 1986…

Darkness covered the nearly empty streets of Moscow. There wasn't a soul in sight as someone slipped into the front door of an apartment building and ascended to the second floor.

There was a creak as the door of apartment 213 opened and a tall man stepped into the apartment. He tossed a set of keys onto the nearby dining table. They land with a clatter as the man turns and locks the door behind him. Refusing to turn on any of the lights, he stumbles over a set of small black pumps that were left haphazardly in front of the door. The man chuckled and shook his head a little as he leaned down and moved the shoes out of the way before sitting down and removing his oxblood-colored loafers, placing them beside the black pumps. Then he removed his deep brown coat and hung it on the overly full coat rack.

After setting his bag down near the shoes, the man ventured into the living room, which was a straight shot from the door through the tiny dining room, where he was greeted by a pair of jade green cat eyes that were illuminated by a ray of light coming in through the blinds.

“Your mother never listens to me…” The man mumbled as he gently stroked the petite black cat before him.

After a few moments, the man-made his way left through an archway into the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He then turned right and could not help but smile as he made his way down the hallway as quietly as possible. He walked to the end of the hall past a few closed doors, destined for the final door on his left which had been left cracked ever so slightly. Slowly, he pushed open the door, careful to make as little noise as possible.

The room was illuminated ever so slightly by the light created by the streetlamps outside that seeped in through the slightly opened blinds. A woman laid, curled up, in the bed, fast asleep and covered by blankets from her chest down as she snored ever so softly.

Cautiously, the man approached the bed. He placed his hand on her side and leaned down, kissing her temple. He stood there for a few moments and admired her before placing a soft kiss on her lips. Very slowly, He pulled away from her and straightened up, beginning to undress. He had stepped away from the bed and was now standing in front of an old wooden dresser.

"Aleksander?" The woman mumbled, her eyes half opened as she lifted her head ever so slightly to look at him.

"It's me... you can go back to sleep"

The woman, Anya, plopped her head back down onto her pillow and sighed, still watching him with half-opened eyes. The man, Aleksander, or Sacha as Anya affectionately called him, removed his shirt and undershirt and approached the bed after tossing them in a heap on the floor. He was quite tall and slightly muscular. He leaned down and gently caressed Anya's cheek, his skin, though pale, contrasted slightly from Anya's milky skin. He pressed his lips to hers as he gently brushed back Anya's deep auburn hair. Anya reached out from under her blankets and gave Sacha a loose hug as she began to drift back to sleep.

As she moved her blankets aside slightly one could see quite plainly that Anya was with child. She appeared to be about 7 months pregnant. Of course, Anya did not want pregnancy to slow her down or hinder her ability to work, but she did find herself significantly more exhausted in the evenings.

Anya had gotten home from a few day-long trip to Ignalina around ten in the evening on Friday the 25th. She visited the power plant to meet with the plant director and chief engineer. While there she also met with the engineers and supervised a test on each of the two reactors in the span of 36 hours before returning home where she had promptly showered and went straight to bed where Aleksander had found her.

After a few moments, Sacha gently pulled away from Anya and tucked her back in.

"I'm going to shower…" he mumbled as he pulled the blankets up to her shoulders.

Anya simply groaned in response, opening her eyes just a sliver and nodding at him. She was far too exhausted to even process what he was saying. She had been awake for 36 hours, not to mention her body was currently growing a life inside of it.

After a rather brisk shower, Aleksander joined Anya in bed. He had on long pajama pants and a t-shirt. As Sacha laid on his back Anya snuggled up to him, still fast asleep. Sacha smiled sleepily as he rubbed Anya’s back as he looked down at her, admiring his beautiful wife and childhood sweetheart. She was the love of his life and his everything.

It was now about half-past three in the morning. The ringing of the phone down the hallway awoke Aleksander. He got up as quietly as he could while Anya simply stirred a little. She too began to get up, her eyes not even fully open.

"I've got it, love, go back to sleep," Aleksander said, only half awake himself as he made his way out into the hall, headed for the phone that sat on a small, cluttered table.

"Hello?" Aleksander said as he lifted the phone to his ear, his eyes half-opened.

"Comrade Koshkov? This is Vladimir Dolgikh, I am calling to speak with your wife"

"Comrade Dolgikh? Why is it you need to speak to Anya?"

"There has been an accident at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. Anya is the head of the nuclear energy and weapons committee, and she helped design the RBMK reactors. So, she should know about this…"

Aleksander was now fully awake and rather shocked as he processed what Dolgikh had said.

"How serious is it? I don't want to wake her-" Aleksander was cut off

"I need to speak with her Comrade Koshkov"

"Alright, give me a moment to go and wake her…"

Aleksander set the phone down on the table and walked back to the bedroom. He gingerly placed his hand on Anya's shoulder.

"Anya…"

Anya groaned a little and looked up at him tiredly.

"Comrade Dolgikh is calling… it's about Chernobyl"

"What?" Anya mumbled, utterly confused as she began to sit up.

"There's been an accident at Chernobyl, Dolgikh thought you should know about it… he's on the phone…"

Anya simply nodded and climbed out of bed. She rubbed her eyes and brushed her hair back out of her face as she wandered out of the room and down the hall. Anya sighed as she wrapped her boney fingers around the phone and lifted it to her ear.

"So, what's happened?"

There was no hello comrade, no good morning comrade, for Anya did not want to waste time in pleasantries.

"The night shift was performing the turbine run down test… the system control tank ignited, damaging the plant and setting the roof on fire"

"The control system tank? During a turbine run down?"

Anya shook her head and rubbed her temples, thinking she had heard him wrong.

"That is correct, firefighters have been dispatched to the plant as well"

"And the radiation?"

"3.6 roentgen per hour"

"Do they have a reading from their high range dosimeter?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few moments and Anya sighed exhaustedly. Of course, they didn't get a reading with the large dosimeter.

"That's the only number they gave us," Dolgikh replied in confusion.

"Who are you sending to handle the clean-up?"

"Colonel General Pikalov and the troops specializing in chemical hazards"

Dolgikh sounded even more confused by Anya's out-of-the-ordinary questions.

"I am going to call Bryukhanov, thank you for informing me of this Comrade"

Without another word, Anya hung up the phone and began flipping through a notepad with different numbers in it. Sure there was the phone book, but Anya had most, if not all, of the numbers she needed written down. She said nothing to Aleksander who was sitting in the living room. He was keeping an eye on her as he waited for the water he had just put on the stove to boil. He was petting their tiny black cat named Pebble.

Anya could barely keep her eyes open as she dialed the number she had written down, her hands were shaking ever so slightly as she held the receiver up to her ear. The phone rang again and again, and Anya leaned on the small table tiredly. Seeing this, Aleksander walked over and grabbed one of the spare chairs for the dining table and placed it beside her so Anya could sit down. After Anya had plopped down into the chair, her eyes half opened as she listened to the phone ring, Sacha leaned down and kissed her cheek. He placed his hand on her stomach for a moment and sighed before straightening up and going back to the sofa.

At that point in the night, the Pripyat executive committee members were on their way to the plant, and Bryukhanov had just stepped out for a smoke after being informed that Gorbachev had been briefed of the situation. Of course, Fomin had followed him, much like a lost puppy now that he realized it was quite possible this accident could get him into deep shit. So, it was Dyatlov who picked up one of the phones when it started ringing.

"Hello?" Dyatlov said stiffly as he placed the receiver against his ear.

Anya had begun drifting to sleep as she waited for someone to answer the phone, and she jolted awake as she heard Dyatlov's voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, this is Anya Koshkova of the central committee… I need to speak with Comrade Bryukhanov"

Anya was too exhausted for pleasantries, and she could barely keep her eyes open as she spoke to Dyatlov. The hand that she was not holding the phone with was propping her head up, her elbow resting on the table.

"Comrade Koshkova, this is Anatoly Dyatlov. Comrades Bryukanov and Fomin just stepped outside, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Comrade Dyatlov, I need to speak with Bryukhanov… I am calling to get more information about the accident…”

“Let me go get him…”

Anya shuffled through the clutter on the desk and found a blank piece of paper to write on. Once Bryukhanov returned she proceeded to ask about the damage, casualties, radiation, and if anyone had gotten sick. The answers she got were, obviously, not promising.

“Have your dosimetrists get a reading using the high range dosimeter… I will get Aleksander or General Tarakanov to get me a flight out to Pripyat as soon as possible and arrange transport to the plant…”

It was around four in the morning when Anya set down the phone and slumped over in the dining chair, her forehead resting on the edge of the tiny table. She stared at the ground, her head felt very empty and extremely full at the same time. A sense of shock overwhelmed Anya as she thought over the past thirty minutes she had spent on the phone. There was no way this was happening, right?