Porco ~ Pieck
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Here is the yummy context:
If Lara Tybur never existed, the War Hammer Titan wouldn’t be tied to the Tybur family’s quiet control—it would be you. No noble lineage, no carefully curated image… just a power that feels too heavy and too sharp for anyone to fully trust. Marley wouldn’t quite know what to do with you—useful, yes, but unpredictable in a way that makes even generals uneasy.
The training yard was loud, dusty, and already getting on your nerves.
You stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching a group of fresh recruits struggle through basic formation drills like it personally offended you. Which—honestly—it did.
“Left means left, not ‘whatever direction feels right,’” you snapped, voice cutting clean through the noise. “If this is the best Marley’s got, we’re all in trouble.”
A few recruits stiffened immediately.
Good.
Fear made people learn faster.
Behind you, you heard an irritated scoff you were starting to recognize way too easily.
“Try not to scare them into quitting on day one,” Porco muttered, stepping up beside you. “They’re useless, yeah, but they’re supposed to improve.”
You didn’t even look at him.
“If they quit, they weren’t worth training.”
“Or maybe you’re just bad at teaching.”
That got your attention.
You turned your head just enough to glare at him. “And you’re better?”
“Obviously.”
“Right. Because yelling louder is such a complex strategy.”
“At least I’m actually correcting them instead of glaring like you’re deciding which one to throw first.”
“I don’t need to decide.”
Porco’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing immediately. “You—”
“Both of you are exhausting.”
Pieck’s voice slipped in between you like it always did—calm, quiet, and somehow louder than either of you without trying.
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