I was thinking of how Pogranichnik and other reconveners have memories of their original versions. What if Hellagur (og Poggers) had a lover, and Pogchamp meets a descendant, an older version of them, or them with amnesia (doesn't have to be endmin). Or maybe a mix of the latter two where his lover is a species with a decently long lifespan, but they're old and their memories are fading. He views himself as a separate person, but still has the same feelings or falls in love.

Sorry if this is long and random as hell. I loved the old man in the og before Endfield was revealed, and am starved for content. Thanks for reading this!

Unfortunately while I did play some of the original Arknights game, I didn’t make it very far and never got to meet Hellagur or any of the other original reconveners. I pretty much got to Yan and played a few events (Thorns’ alt, Blaze’s alt, and a couple of others). I’d like to get back eventually, but it’s a task enough juggling my current games. Plus the sheer amount of content is enough to send me into a coma.

That said, I do know from what little information we have that at the very least, Laevatain has complicated emotions about Surtr. She doesn’t like to be reminded of her or compared to her, and it seems that reconveners have a very different sense of identity independent of their past lives. As such, I think while these individuals might be drawn to those related to their pasts, like a former romantic partner, they probably feel conflicted about the person.

Do this person like them for who they are now? Or are they just hoping to find someone gone in those eyes? How can they know they’re wanted and not some ghost they can’t be? It would probably take a while before some of them trusted this person- I can see Laevatain at the very least feeling threatened by this person. She’s not Surtr, she hates being compared to her! And this person from that life pops up, wanting to be in hers? Why does it matter if you knew Surtr? It’s not like that’s her.

Except… she wants to know more. She can’t help it. You know things she doesn’t and it’s eating at her. And… you aren’t that bad? Still, her walls are up high. It takes forever to let herself soften around you. You don’t see her the same way, you recognize they’re different and you don’t hold it against her. And those walls start to lower. Maybe she can share this with Surtr. You’re not that bad after all.

As for Gilberta, it seems she kind of can’t entirely remember things, and isn’t too connected to the life Angelina lived. Her dialogue hints she doesn’t really recall that, and instead it’s Surgeon Warfarin who remembers that life. If she were to meet someone who remembers Angelina, she might be somewhat confused and uncomfortable. What was she like? Can she live up to those expectations, is she as strong or impressive as that? Dispelling her nerves is a fight you’d be fighting to the end of time, unfortunately. As peppy as she is, it doesn’t stop her from self doubt.

Eventually, she will get comfortable around you and try to learn about Angelina. What was she like? Did they have the same hobbies, interests? It’s like reading a novel, when she looks at those files. Except instead of the protagonist of a story, it’s a real life thy was lived, and one her very existence stems from.

To her, falling for you is like something straight out of a romance novel. The very thought makes her blush a tiny bit, it’s just too picture perfect and cute. Even if it’s not a romantic relationship that builds from it, the friendship she forms with you is undeniably important to her and something she’ll cherish for a long time.

Now for Pogranichnik, his files and dialogue don’t really mention much of Hellagur, actually. At least directly. His File 4 seems to be him recalling memories from the past.

He’d probably have some complicated feelings for someone if they were some kind of nobility or military elite, especially that of Ursus. The governments of Terra were pretty corrupt, and so many suffered as a result. It’s a bit hard to fully trust someone who was so close to that level of corruption and potentially participated in it. If they were a member of the clinic or Rhode Island, he’d feel more comfortable and might be more willing to trust them. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Hellagur’s judgment, but it’s been so long and enough has changed that you could be a very different person at this point. I think he’d eventually come around, but it depends entirely on your actions.

| This is my first time writing for male reader but I’m a woman so I apologize if I get anything wrong!

Sub!Pogranichnik x Male!Reader

🌹: Nipple play, teasing, needy pogra, cum eating, anal, making out, I think that’s all!

MDNI!!

————-—-Not letting me put divider ——————

Pogranichnik is a leader. Someone whose perseverance doesn’t waver. He’s strong willed and loyal to his duties. However..you see no trace of that strong man currently. Tongues sliding together, the sound of lips smacking together as your mouth slides against his. He’s in your bed, surrounded by your things.

You nip at his bottom lip, drawing a whimper from his lips. You smirk and trail kisses along his jaw, hands pushing up his sleep shirt to reveal his toned torso. He whines as you pull back to strip it off of him. The sight beneath you is maddening, his face is flushed, sitting up on his elbows with a needy expression aimed at you.

You can’t help but bite your lip, hands sliding over his torso, causing him to shiver. “So pretty..only for me, right?” Your eyes flicker to his and he eagerly nods — “All yours..” his back arches into your touch. You ignore the strain in your pants, wanting to see him break for you first.

Needy!Pogranichnik x fem!reader

🌹: Submissive dom? Making out, creampies, praises, “good girl” - “Angel”, aftercare, nipple sucking, pogra begging

I think that’s all! MDNI!

23:48

“That’s it..” Pogra whispers as your hips continue their steady bouncing on his hardened cock. His eyes focused on the way your slick coats his cock. He can feel every inch of your gummy walls as you move up and down. The hypnotizing way your hips move has him falling more for you. “You’re doing so well.” He breathes out heavily, his hands starting to rub your sides. “So pretty for me.” He praises, all his words go to your head.

You couldn’t take much more, your hips coming to a stop as you take him in fully, opting to grind down. You bite your bottom lip as your clit rubs against his pelvis, trying to keep your moans down. His eyes flit up to your flushed face, one of his hands lifting to tug the plump flesh of your bottom lip out from between your lips. “Let me hear you, Angel.” His words struggle due to your grinding. “Let me hear your pretty voice..” He groans.

“S-so good..” You whimper out, nails digging into his shoulders as your hips continue to grind down. The feeling has both of your brains fogged up. “Fffuckk…” His rare curse makes your cunt squeeze down tight around him. “Yeah, Angel, take what you need…make yourself feel good.” His head falls in between your breasts, voice muffled as he speaks up again. “And if you- haah…if you get tired then I’ll do it..I’ll take over. I’ll make you feel good.” His voice comes out needy.

Your hand moves up to grip his hair, tugging his head back and oh- when you look at his face his eyes are focused on you, you’ve never seen this needy look on his usually stoic face. His mouth is open in a heavy pant. Your hand moves from the back of his head and to his cheek, cupping it as you press your lips to his. He kisses back with equal fervor, tongue immediately pressing its way into your mouth as you let him to taste you. He begins to kisses your jaw.

Your hands steady themselves on his shoulders again when your bouncing resumes but at a quicker pace. His hands return to gently caress your waist, lips pressing small kisses to your neck with small nips but never biting, not without you explicitly asking for it. He’d never want to hurt his angel, not even during intimate moments when he wants so badly to suck on your neck but he knows it would show.

His lips find their way to your beasts, wrapping around a hardened nipple and flicking his tongue against it. Your back arches as you gasp before letting out a moan. “Pogra..!” You feel yourself squeeze around him. His cock kicks against your walls, a telltale sign of his impending orgasm. He pops off your nipple with a ‘pop’, a string of saliva connecting from your breast to his lips.

“Angel.. I’m gonna cum,” He warns. “You should-“ his words stop when you let out a whimper that sounds like a ‘No’. “Please..just cum inside me..” You beg. He groans as the whine in your voice has his cock jolting inside of you, strings of warm cum paints your walls as you continue to bounce. The feeling of his release in you causes your brains to become more hazy. His hand slips between your legs to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles around it.

You moan out, hips continuing. You’re so close. You make the mistake of looking down, those same needy eyes, cheeks flushed. “Come on, cum on my cock. I got you, Angel.” He thrusts up a bit, ignoring to overstimulation he’s feeling, he just wants his love to feel good. His other hand rests and squeezes your thigh, feeling it tremble. With one last bounce you cum, your walls fluttering around him. Your moans mix together, his head falling to your shoulder, his hand continuing its ministrations against your clit.

After you both come down from your high, your rest there, the hand that was on your thigh rubs your back gently. “You did amazing, I’m proud of you.” He presses soft kisses to the side of your face. “Thank you.” His voice soothes you and gives you energy to respond. “Thank you too, my love..” You then lift up, his softening cock slipping out of you, the movement causing a sigh to be let out between you two.

He lays you down and cleans you up before laying down next to you, pulling you close. His arm draped across you to make sure you’re staying and to keep you a bit more warm. “I love you.” His soft voice lulls you further to sleep. “I love you too..” You respond before sleep overcomes you. His hand alternates between playing with your hair and rubbing your back, making sure you’re fully asleep before he even considers to sleep himself.

| Kiss , Kiss

pogranichnik x reader fic

tgs; bathroom sex, handjob , possible mischaracterization(?) idk this is my first arknights game, p in v

wulfgard & pogranichnik rambles / headcanons

been waiting for this game for almost 4 years and of COURSE i've been playing it everyday... i've been struggling to figure out what to write, so i figured this would be a nice warm up~ im happy to be back writing!! so much has changed since the little hiatus i took, and if you've been reading my stuff for a while, you'll probably find out later in other authors notes, or fics in general :3

gn reader of course | not proofread obvi

cw: erm idk literally just fluff.

Catcher

I have a feeling he’d often use more Spanish petnames, like dulzura (sweetness), cariño (dear), corazón (heart), or Tesoro (treasure). He prefers names in his native language, he finds them more personal and natural to him.

If he’s been away from his partner for a longer time, he might throw in a possessive “mi” in there. Not because he’s jealous or doesn’t trust his partner, but because he likes the emotional connection of affirming your partnership. He just likes feeling close, especially if he’s been gone a while.

Wulfgard

He doesn’t feel the type to use very many petnames, but if he did, he might use ones in Italian a lot like how catcher uses petnames in Spanish. Cucciola/cucciolo is puppy/cub, but means more along the lines of honey/sweetheart. He also seems the type to use caro mio/cara mio, meaning dear. Very rarely, he might call you la mia luna, meaning my moon.

He’s more likely to just call you by your name or a nickname you tell him you like. He finds intimacy in identity. He just loves your name.

Antal

He tends to come up with really weird or out there pet names. He called you “firebuckle” once, completely straight faced and people couldn’t figure out if it was one of his attempts at a bad joke at first. Glowbug is one he uses a good bit, and if you asked why, it’s “because you’re bright and eye catching.”

It’s not that he’s completely avoidant of more traditional pet names, but he’s always been one to experiment and try to draw reactions out of people. If you seem to like one of his more out there ones, he mentally bookmarks it and it joins the rotation.

He does like my dear a lot. And dove, he has an entire detailed explanation as to why, but it can be simplified to him finding you to be a source of peace and comfort, like doves are in imagery.

Pogranichnik

He uses very traditional pet names. For him, there’s elegance in the simple my love, my dear, my heart, beloved, darling, and dearest. He demands the utmost respect for you from himself and those around him, and he will not dare let himself refer to you with anything less than devotion.

He’s just as likely to use a more regal Russian pet names. One he’s found particular fondness of is zólotse, meaning my gold. He also finds umnitsa one of his more common ones, meaning clever. Lyubov moya (my love) and zvezda moya (my star) are also ones he’s used. Very elegant, classic, and gentle.

Fluorite

She likes more basic ones like babe, baby, cutie, hot stuff, doll, and sweetheart. But her favorite is hun. She couldn’t really tell you why, she just likes the way it rolls off the tongue. Plus, “it’s sweet like you, so it works.” She’s not someone who sees a point in needlessly complicating something as basic as terms of endearment. It’s just not that deep to her.

She calls you “mine” though sometimes. She likes feeling like she truly gets to have things, and so you being with her matters a lot. She takes pride in that and likes to remind you of your relationship.

Arclight

For her, pet names are a bit weird. She’s more used to code names and the Hannabit Circuit tends to call members by their title and name, like Aldertone Orisha. At Endfield, its operator code names, like Perlica. She’s not used to calling people petnames, so it’s nothing personal if she doesn’t use them for a good bit. She might start calling you love or beloved, since to her they’re a bit like a title or rank.

Unfortunately I actually don’t know as much about our Pogchamp yet and only got him with the standard selector. I can’t promise much in the way of accuracy. Given that, I apologize for any mischaracterization thus far. Much appreciate the request.

He seems the type to me, to treat his partner like royalty. The man is someone who does everything with care and devotion, and romance is no different. Chivalry is alive and well with him, and even the notion it died is soundly dismissed with his existence.

Due to his military experience, he often wakes up in the wee morning hours, long before the sun has properly blessed the land with its light. Most times, just about everyone is still asleep as he readies for the day. Even if he doesn’t have any form of mission to do, it’s instinctive.

When he has to leave, he does so with a certain reluctance. He always takes a moment to tuck you back in, press a gentle kiss to the forehead, and observe you for a moment, burning the sight of you peacefully asleep into his mind. You’ll find a note on the end table wishing you a good day, and a thermos filled with tea.

If he can stay, you’ll wake to him observing you, a soft smile on his face as he lays next to you, book in hand on military strategy, chess, history. The man is very well read.

He’d absolutely be the type to pamper his partner. Carrying an umbrella in case of rain, offering his arm to them, keeping a handkerchief scented with their products. He’d like to have a locket with a keepsake- locks of hair have been used as symbols of love and devotion, and given before long separation. If not hair, then a picture of you. Of course, he’d have a matching one made and offer to put the chain on you for you, leaving a chaste kiss to the nape and top of your head.

And speaking of kisses, I absolutely see him as the type to find a fondness for kisses to your hand, forehead, top of your head, and your wrists. There’s something intimate about such gentle affection. He’s very gentlemanly.

If his partner doesn’t know how to fight, he’s sure to teach them himself. Sparring with him is thorough, exhausting, and intense, but highly effective. Regardless of the starting point, he’s willing to adapt to his partner’s needs. Need multiple explanations, visuals, a different style? Of course. Praise and gentle correction is his preferred approach. There’s very little sharpness to his methods.

Now if you already know how to fight, this man is going all out in his spars with you. He wants to see you at your best, your full potential, to give it your all. He wants to see you fight, be it him, other operators, LBs, anything. He is utterly starstruck by it, trying to capture everything to memory. And if he can record it? He saves it to his personal system. He’ll point out things you did perfectly and things he can see improvement, and arrange to work on together.

(Pogranichnik x F!Endmin)

(Fluff)

⸻

Valentine’s Day on Dijang is a disaster.

Pink ribbons everywhere. Someone stuck paper hearts on the tactical board and nobody dares touch them because apparently love is now a protected strategic asset. The cafeteria tried making heart-shaped pastries. They look like wounded geometry.

And in the middle of all that chaos—

Pogranichnik

Locker full.

Desk full.

Door handle full.

Even the top of his filing cabinet.

Chocolate. Everywhere.

Small ones. Expensive ones. Handmade ones. Notes tucked inside. Some handwriting so shaky you can feel the courage it took.

He stands there with his arms crossed, staring at the pile like it’s a paperwork issue.

“…This is too much.”

Across the hall, you freeze.

Of course he got a lot.

He’s kind. Calm. The type who says “Good work” and people remember it for days. He listens. He teaches. He never raises his voice. He’s handsome in that unfair, quiet way.

So yes.

He got chocolate.

A lot of it.

And in your hands?

One small box.

Handmade. Slightly uneven. The drizzle on top isn’t perfectly straight. You tried. You really did.

And suddenly it feels… tiny.

He spots you immediately.

Always does.

“Endmin.”

You straighten like you’ve been caught doing something illegal. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

His eyes drop to the box in your hands.

“…You made that.”

You shrug. “It’s not fancy or anything. Just—”

Before you can talk yourself into embarrassment, he walks forward.

He picks up one of the anonymous boxes from the pile. Looks at it. Puts it back.

Then— to everyone’s shock— he gathers the whole stack in his arms.

A recruit panics. “Sir— those are—”

“Chocolate,” he says calmly.

He walks past everyone.

Straight to you.

Sets the pile down on a table like it’s nothing.

Then he reaches for only one thing.

Your box.

He takes it carefully. Like it matters.

“I can’t accept the others,” he says simply. “It would be misleading.”

Someone down the hallway internally collapses. You can even hear heartbreaks.

He opens your box.

Looks at the uneven shapes.

The slightly messy drizzle.

The obvious effort.

His expression softens. Not dramatic. Just… warm.

“These are different.”

You swallow. “Different how?”

He closes the lid gently.

“You made them for me.”

That’s it.

That’s the difference.

He tucks your box under his arm.

The rest of the chocolates?

“Share them with the staff,” he says.

Then he looks at you again.

And the way he looks at you makes the entire pile feel irrelevant.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, endmin.”

Soft. Private. Just for you.

You try not to melt.

You fail.

⸻

Later, in his office, he’s cutting one of your chocolates in half.

Of course he is.

You lean on the doorframe.

“Mr. Handsome Ursus General~ You know you’re missing something, right?”

He doesn’t look up. “Explain.”

You walk in, dramatic.

“I gave you chocolate.”

“Yes.”

“You redistributed half the sugar economy.”

“Yes.”

“You said happy Valentine’s.”

“Yes.”

You stop in front of him. “And I didn’t receive anything.”

Now he looks up.

“…Are you asking for something?”

“I am stating facts.”

He sets the knife down.

“What do you want?”

You lean closer. “Compensation.”

“For?”

“Effort. Love. Emotional damage from seeing your desk buried in chocolate.”

He actually huffs a quiet laugh.

“You are impossible.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

He stands.

You immediately regret everything because he’s tall and now he’s close and why is your heartbeat doing this—

He steps into your space.

Lifts your chin gently with two fingers.

Not commanding.

Just soft.

“You’re right,” he murmurs.

You blink. “…I am?”

“I am missing something.”

Your brain stops functioning.

He brushes his thumb lightly over your cheek.

“Thank you for making these for me.”

And then he kisses you.

Slow.

Not rushed. Not dramatic.

Just warm.

The kind of kiss that feels like being chosen.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“I don’t need the others,” he says quietly. “I only wanted yours.”

That’s when you almost cry.

“For choosing me,” he adds softly.

And suddenly he’s not the respected instructor.

Not the admired general.

Not the man with a hallway full of admirers.

He’s just your Khorsyn.

Soft.

Warm.

Looking at you like you’re the only Valentine’s gift he actually cares about.

___

Have a good one :3

ARKNIGHTS ENDFIELD MEN ♡

a/n: i knoww i saw how little this fandome is but its a strong one. and also sorry if this is not very well written im kinda tired and occupied with all the exams thats coming up so here what i think these male characters will do. im also kinda new so sorry if its bad

ENDMINISTRATOR

him waking up after 10 years is the best blessing ever granted to you. at first you thought that yeah maybe you and perlica may have to take care of all the workings of Talos II

it hurts a little seeing how he doesn't remember anything about all that you two shared. but its okay.

you have an album that you show him at night before curfew hits, explaining in great detail the day and time, what happened, where it happened, with whom as if they were all just yesterday.

you are trying to make him remember all the fun memories you've made with everyone in Dijiang, all the messages, parties and late night texts.

with each passing day, he longs for your visit hoping to hear your voice again, hoping to learn a little more about this world you all call 'home', which he too once called home.

WULFGARD

he's had his fair share of discrimination, and bullying since he's from a landbreaker clan and landbreakers in general are thought to be dangerous and reckless

it was you as a kid that you found little wulfguard hiding behind bushes holding buckweed to his cuts on his legs and hand and on his face after a nasty "friendly fire with his friends" as he likes to call it.

you just sat down beside him and give him medicinal pills to help in faster healing. they were surprisingly sweet, like hard rock sugar candies. it was quite pleasant.

even now you carry them in little transparent plastic wrappers and give them to children and some teens who do not have any injuries on them but you still give them cause yoy adore them. he is also no exception

you will sometimes slide it into his pockets during his missions or in some first-aid kits which he will know is your just by the warm scent left behind in your wake

POGRANICHNIK

he's stoic but he's kinda endearing in a warm way. his care for the people goes beyond bounds. afterall he did leave his previous post in the order of steel oath to join hands in Talos II

he trains the other aspiring operators and even shares a few stories of his back when he was in the order only with you. occasionally over tea and mostly during patrols and missions

since I've said i dont really know them well but this man gives me the vibes of a wise. so he's probably gonna prefer tea over coffee so tea dates it is.

he open to try all kinds of tea, but liquor tea, black tea, earl grey and chamomile sometimes peppermint is what he likes. the other are alright on occasions

but if you came over and your favourite is none of the above then he will actually make one for you and serve it to you on silver cups and plates with sugar cubes inside porcelain jars.

he likes cleaning his blades with you after a training session "its meditating and peaceful" so he says and he having you around him within an arms reach

ALESH

more to him that he lets other people see. he cannot be "just an angler who also doubles for the endfield missions" nah ah you've played games like these before

he likes to ring you up on early mornings on sundays to force ask you out to catch some fresh fish right from the flowing river

it doubles as a training sesh with him getting a little too close to you whrn angling you line and hook but its okay you know him and hes pretty warm on cold mornings especially when you have to fight the cold winds rising fron the lake

you go around fighting LBs nearby and clearing out camps, making a temporary camp for yourself to fry the fish you two just caught after selling a few. its almost like sunday's are a farming sim for both of you

LIFENG

a jolly bunch with rough history and an even rougher path to forge ahead

he's told you about what happened to him and his family since he doesn't want to keep anything from you

he LOVES sleep overs and midnights snacks (i think) especially when its you.

board games like cluedo, monopoly, uno which mostly end up in who won fair and square, popcorn lying around the floor, on the couch after a horror movie

your sleepovers are incomplete without a pillow fort where you two sleep

ANTAL

a curious lad who is just as oblivious as he is smart and intelligent.

he likes solving unsolved crime cases with you after work hours and reading true crime or detective novels with you

it end up in a very philosophical conversation with both of you trying to figure out the basis of the case and the whodunit

he secretly marks these days on a pocket calendar he carries with him with a star or a heart on certain special days where you won and he treated you to whatever you wished for

CATCHER

he's a breath of fresh air. literally, with all thats happening around Talos II and Endfield, him and his wildland stew is like coming to a warm meal at home.

you two try out recipes in the kitchen and sometimes they can be the "easy to make within 3 steps" food or "the lost recipe from 1000 years ago"

spices from different regions, meats and vegetables cooked in a certain way.

Pogranichik x endmin(female)

Lmao guess who’s back

(Inspired by official vid from Hypergryph)

—

The room is dim, lit only by the thin amber line of a desk lamp. Paper sleeps where it fell. The world outside has paused its teeth.

Pogranichnik notices the moment her breathing changes—when work finally loosens its grip and sleep takes her by surprise. Her head tilts, just slightly, chin dipping toward her collarbone. He doesn’t move right away. He waits. Always waits. As if rushing might fracture something fragile.

Then—

one step closer.

The coat comes off his shoulders without a sound. Heavy fabric, folded once in his hands, then laid over her with care. He adjusts it millimeter by millimeter, making sure it doesn’t slip, making sure the warmth stays where it should. His knuckles brush her sleeve by accident.

He freezes.

She doesn’t stir.

Only then does he let himself exhale.

A strand of hair has fallen into her face, dark against her cheek. It wasn’t there before. He hesitates—this is unnecessary, he tells himself. There are rules for battlefields. None for this.

Still… his fingers lift.

He doesn’t tuck it back right away. He lets it slide once, slowly, between gloved fingers, feeling its softness through fabric meant for steel and frost. The touch is barely there. More permission than contact.

His gaze lingers. Not sharp. Not assessing. Just… staying.

Someone opens the door. He furrows his brow.

“Keep quiet.”

The word lands flat and cold, a blade laid on stone.

“Someone is resting.”

The door closes again. The noise retreats. Order restored.

When he turns back, his expression changes—not dramatically, not visibly, but enough that the air softens around him. He crouches beside her chair, lowering himself so they’re level. His glove comes off. Bare fingers this time.

He brushes her cheek. Once. Light as snowfall. As if checking whether she’s real, or something the night invented to test his restraint.

“You’re exhausted,” he murmurs—to no one, or maybe to himself.

His thumb stills at the corner of her jaw, then withdraws. He doesn’t take more than that. He never does.

“Rest assured,” he says quietly, voice worn smooth by promise.

“We have a battlefield up ahead.”

He straightens. Puts the glove back on. Returns to stillness.

From this point on, nothing reaches her unless it goes through him first.

———

This is me:

I love that endmin is kind of smol