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HI LILY!! oh my goodness i just saw your pokkopikku list and it brought back all the feels 😭 could i maybe possibly request a pokkopikku canonverse where porco has to deal with jealousy from pieck’s unit because of how close he is to her? you are literally so amazing

ahhh this is such a good idea!! i loved it immediately. i hope this is everything you hoped for and more ^^

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This Isn’t What I Was Trained For

GalliPieck. Canonverse.

8456 words.

Read on Ao3!

When Porco was informed that he would be the next inheritor of the Jaw Titan, his chest swelled with pride. Was he surprised at the news? Not at all. He had trained for this his entire life. Even when the chance had eluded him in the past, the military officials passing over him and selecting (in his humble opinion) the lesser-qualified Reiner Braun, Porco had bitten his tongue but still pressed on with his military training. As a child, he was a formidable soldier on the battlefield, charging into enemy territory with a rifle in his hands even as dust and burnt gunpowder stung his eyes. As he grew older, Porco grew more strategic on the field, planning missions instead of just forcing his way through battles with brute force. By the time he was fifteen, he was included in meetings with military officials (not to speak, of course, but it was an honor to just be let into the room) and had killed more men than he could count. Really, there was no one more qualified than Porco to inherit the Jaw Titan.

Porco thought the transition from Marleyan soldier to Titan Warrior would be a smooth one. After all, he had already been informed on what wielding the Titan’s power would entail twice now: once when he was a potential candidate, and again now that the opportunity is presenting itself once more. He wasn’t concerned about the Titan transformation itself. He knew all the grotesque details: the injection of the serum into his spine, the strike of lightning that would crack through the sky before electrifying every bone in his body just as his Titanized form manifested, or the horrifying memories he would inherit from his predecessors. They were necessary if Porco was to become a Warrior, and he had accepted these horrors years ago when he was informed that he was one of the final candidates to be chosen as a Titan. When they had chosen Reiner over him, Porco was crushed, but it seems like all of those years of training were not in vain if the Jaw Titan is to now be in his possession.

Dealing with military personnel was actually what Porco would consider more of an issue, especially with the tension between the Marleyan commanders and the Eldian soldiers. The grudge that the Marleyans held against the Eldians for their crime ran deep, but it was just. After being trained underneath Marlayan instructors for all of his youth, Porco knew that he wouldn’t run into any trouble so long as he kept his head down, answered orders with a simple yes or no along with a “ma’am” or “sir” tacked on at the end, and said as little as possible.

Even dealing with the other Titan Warriors didn’t bother Porco. He had never been on the best terms with Reiner. Porco didn’t trust him to wield a Titan’s power back when they were children, and he certainly doesn’t now. Still, he’s not stupid enough to say so out loud and he’s smart enough to be civil whenever the Armored Titan’s holder comes near. He got along well enough with Bertholdt, the Colossal Titan, but he didn’t count on them becoming close friends. That’s fine anyhow. The military officials had said that the Jaw Titan would work more with the Cart and Beast Titans in future missions, so Porco only had to learn how to be comfortable with Zeke and Pieck.

To be honest, Porco had always found the War Chief to be rather intimidating. He was nearly a decade older than Porco and the other Titan Warriors, so they hardly had anything in common aside from wielding a Titan’s power. He had stood in the same room as Zeke more than a few times, often to listen during military meetings. Zeke was the only Eldian allowed to speak during these meetings, confidently speaking his mind and bringing forth suggestions that weren’t, to Porco’s surprise, brushed off by the Marleyan officials. After all those times in meetings, Porco hadn’t uttered a word to the War Chief, although he would bow his head and keep his eyes lowered whenever Zeke approached and the Beast Titan would occasionally acknowledge Porco with a nod. Warming up to Zeke would take some time, Porco thought, so it’s a surprise when the War Chief comes up to him one day without warning to congratulate him.

“I think they made a good choice in selecting you to inherit the Jaw Titan,” Zeke says, hand outstretched. There’s a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s the warmest expression Porco has ever seen on the man’s face. Porco’s so surprised that he almost forgets to take the War Chief’s hand.

“It’s an honor to be chosen,” Porco replies and he firmly shakes Zeke’s hand, trying not to wince at how strong the man’s grip is. It’s a relief when Zeke finally lets go, his hand falling away from Porco’s.

“I know you’ll be a powerful asset for our team.” Again, the smile. Zeke continues, “Feel free to reach out to me if you need any help with anything.”

Porco blinks in surprise. Zeke had always been such an aloof man. He had this unapproachable air to him at times, and it makes Porco wonder if he had heard the man correctly. “Anything?” Porco repeats, regretting it immediately because it makes it seem like he’s questioning the validity of his superior’s statement. He’s about to apologize for his insolence when Zeke laughs and claps a hand on Porco’s shoulder.

“Of course,” the man replies, patting Porco on the shoulder. “I’m your superior, after all. If you have concerns about anything at all, come find me. I’ll help you as best as I can.”

“O-oh,” Porco says. He nods, unsure if he should smile back at the War Chief or give him a salute. The safest response, Porco decides, is a grateful “thank you” and an assurance that he will make sure to reach out to the War Chief if he ever needs it. The reply is enough for the War Chief, who nods back at the Warrior before leaving to attend to his other duties. Porco stares at the man’s retreating figure, wondering if the War Chief had meant the words he said or if they were just a formality. Porco doesn’t think he’ll need to seek Zeke if he runs into any problems. He’ll probably fumble through his issues like he did for the past 15 years, which has worked out for him so far. Still, he does file away the War Chief’s offer in the back of his mind on the slim chance that he needs it, but he hopes he never does.

Pieck is a lot easier than Zeke. Unlike Zeke, she was the same age as Porco and, because she and Porco trained together when they were children, Porco felt more comfortable around her than he was around the War Chief. Although they hadn’t spoken much after she had inherited the Cart Titan and was whisked away to complete more important missions, she was still relatively friendly to him on the rare occasions their paths did cross. When Porco is informed about becoming the inheritor of the Jaw Titan, Pieck is one of the first to congratulate him, even bringing him a box of chocolates as a gift.

“You didn’t have to,” Porco says in surprise as Pieck shoves the sweets in his face. The smell of cocoa is fragrant even through the packaging. He’s about to welcome Pieck in, but she slips past him easily even with her crutches.

“It’s fine,” Pieck assures him, crossing the living room so that she can collapse on the couch. She lets her crutches fall against the floor with a dull thud. She’s lying on the couch, limbs splayed out and an arm across her forehead. “It’s a special occasion. It’s not every day that you get to be chosen to be a Titan Warrior, right?” Across her face flashes a smile, tired but cheeky.

“I guess …,” Porco mumbles. He lets the door shut behind him and shuffles awkwardly to the living room where he settles into the armchair beside Pieck. He opens the box of confections and stares down at the little chocolate squares inside, some of them topped with nuts and sprinkles or drizzled with white chocolate. His mouth waters just looking at them and he wonders when was the last time he had eaten something so delicate and sweet. It must have been ages ago. Porco’s hand hovers over a particularly delectable-looking sweet, a dark chocolate in the shape of a star and dotted with little specks of white, but he remembers his guest and stammers, “D-did you want one, Pieck?”

“Hmm?” she asks, rolling around lazily to lie on her side. She looks at him, expression somewhat amused. “No. It’s for you. You should eat it all.”

Porco is about to insist that she takes one, but Pieck rolls back into her previous position, eyes closed like she’s sleeping. He wonders how she can do that, waltz into his home and act like she had been coming in and out for years like they were friends and they did this all the time. It should probably annoy him that Pieck was acting so comfortable in his house, especially since they weren’t exactly friends, but he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind it. It made him feel like they could be friends, that working with her wouldn’t be too difficult if they could be here like this so comfortably. If he could get Pieck on his side, then everything else would be easy. But Porco’s wrong.

The most difficult thing about becoming a Titan Warrior is not the transformation, the Marleyan officials, or integrating himself amongst the other Warriors. The most difficult thing about becoming a Titan Warrior is the Panzer Unit.

It’s not that the Panzer Unit has never crossed Porco’s mind. Because the group of specialized soldiers is specifically trained to fight alongside the Cart Titan, the Panzer Unit and Pieck come as a packaged deal. Porco is always sure to be polite to all the soldiers in the Panzer Unit and is even sure to remember all their names: Carlo, Hermann, Egon, and Theodor. He doesn’t expect them to treat him like a friend. They work exclusively with the Cart Titan and, although the Marleyan commanders plan for the Jaw Titan to work closely with the Cart Titan, Porco isn’t expected to have the same bond with the Panzer Unit as Pieck does, which is fine with him. The thing is … he hasn’t expected for the Panzer Unit to treat him so coldly either.

At first, Porco thinks that the members of the Panzer Unit just need to warm up to him. The blank stares they give Porco whenever he greets them don’t bother him, and he doesn’t think much when their conversations fall silent whenever he approaches. Porco sometimes invites them to lunch whenever he goes for his break, but they always decline, mumbling incomprehensible excuses underneath their breath. He doesn’t even mind it when the Panzer Unit invites both Pieck and Zeke out to lunch and excludes him.

“I think the Panzer Unit still needs time to warm up to me,” Porco comments absentmindedly to Pieck one day as they’re walking through town. He waits for Pieck to agree but, after she doesn’t respond, is surprised at the perplexed expression on his comrade’s face. “What?”

“You mean they haven’t warmed up to you yet?” she asks. Pieck looks genuinely confused, which only makes Porco confused because he doesn’t know why she’s confused.

“I mean … not yet. But I’ve only just started getting to know them recently,” Porco says. It makes sense that they haven’t gotten close yet. At least that’s what he’s been trying to tell himself, but Pieck’s expression is starting to make him rethink himself. “Are they … do they not like me or something?”

Pieck’s eyebrows are raised in alarm. “No, nothing like that!” she says quickly, although her brows soon knit in concern and Porco can hear her mutter under her breath, “At least, they haven’t said anything like that to me. It’s a little strange though …”

“What? What’s strange?” Porco asks. He probably shouldn’t blurt it out so desperately. Pieck looks at him in alarm, but he can’t help it. If Pieck thinks the Panzer Unit is acting strange, then she’s probably right. She’s worked with them for years, so she knows them best. Now, the Cart Titan looks hesitant to answer, but Porco begs, “Please just tell me. I don’t know if I’ve offended them without knowing, but I’d really like to work this out, especially since we’ll be working together in the future.”

Pieck looks at him sympathetically but can only offer him a helpless shrug. “I honestly don’t know,” she tells him. “They’re usually so sweet. When I was introduced to them, we didn’t have a problem getting along. Even Zeke didn’t have any problems with them when we started working together on the field. I really don’t know why they aren’t friendlier to you.”

If even Pieck doesn’t know why the Panzer Unit is treating him so coldly, then maybe there isn’t anything to be done. Porco should probably just accept it, but he feels his shoulders slump disappointedly anyway. He’s never felt the need to be liked, but it would be nice to be on friendly terms with the Panzer Unit. He can’t imagine working with them for the next thirteen years, being ignored by them every time he passes by.

Porco forces a smile on his face. “It’s fine,” he assures her through gritted teeth.

But it’s not fine at all.

The first thing Carlo, the blond man in the Panzer Unit whose glasses are always constantly slipping down his nose, asks Porco the next morning is, “What did you say to Pieck yesterday?” It’s probably the most Carlo, or any in the Panzer Unit really, has ever spoken to Porco and the Warrior almost forgets to answer until Carlo stomps his foot down angrily.

“Uh, nothing,” Porco says, wondering why his voice is wavering. Carlo is shorter than Porco, the Warrior towering above the bespectacled man by a few inches, but Porco still finds himself backing up. The glares Porco is currently receiving from Carlo’s comrades right now are also not helping. It’s clear that they don’t believe him, so Porco fumbles for an answer. “I just … talked to her about you guys and … how you treat me.”

Carlo turns around, throwing his hands in the air frustratedly. “I knew he would do this! It’s just like him,” he spouts while the rest of his team stares daggers at Porco, Carlo whips his head around to shoot Porco a glare filled with pure hatred. “I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done. Do you know what Pieck said to us yesterday? Do you?” He’s in Porco’s face again, poking a bony finger into Porco’s chest while the rest of the Panzer Unit crowd around the Warrior.

“I … not really, no,” Porco stammers.

“She said she was disappointed in us!” wails Egon, the dark-haired boy behind Carlo. Beside him, the rest of the Panzer Unit nod angrily. There are even tears brimming in Carlo’s eyes as he glares up at Porco. “She said we had to be nice to you, as if we aren’t nice enough to you already!”

“I hope you’re happy now,” sniffs Hermann, a man twice Porco’s age. Despite being much older than Pieck, the man looks just as affected by Pieck’s scolding as Carlo and Egon.

Porco can’t truthfully say that he’s happy about all of this. In fact, he kind of wishes he hadn’t said anything at all. Porco had thought that the dismissive looks he had received before were bad, but they’re nothing compared to the glowering he’s receiving now.

“I just don’t understand why you guys don’t like me,” Porco says. He feels pathetic as he hears the words that come out of his mouth. It’s not as if he’s five years old. He doesn’t need everyone to like him.

Hermann scoffs. “And why should we like you? You don’t even know Pieck’s favorite color.”

Porco’s not exactly sure what Pieck’s favorite color has to do with anything. Was he supposed to know everyone’s favorite color before he began working closely with them? Nobody informed him of that.

“Look, I didn’t mean for her to get involved or anything,” Porco says hastily because the Panzer Unit is clearly unimpressed when the Warrior doesn’t deny not knowing Pieck’s favorite color. Porco why he’s so nervous around these men when he’s worked under drill sergeants that were far more intimidating. “I can just talk to her again, tell her it was a misunderstanding -”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?” Hermann hisses, and the man’s words fill Porco with guilt.

Porco is about to insist that he make things right between everybody when the Panzer Unit freezes in front of him, eyes wide. For a moment, he thinks there might be someone behind him — maybe Zeke or some Marleyan official — but the soldiers suddenly turn around, their backs straight as they salute Pieck. Porco hadn’t even noticed that she was approaching.

“Pieck! How are you?” Egon gushes in a far more cheerful tone than he had used with Porco. “You look wonderful as always.”

“Thanks, Egon. You’re very sweet,” Pieck giggles. She looks over the Unit, her eyes settling on Porco. Raising an eyebrow curiously, Pieck asks, “I trust you’re treating Porco well.”

“Of course!” says Theodor, the eldest of the Panzer Squad. He glances back at Porco, eyes filled with disdain, before looking back at Pieck with a bright smile. “It’s like you said. He’s our comrade now, so we should work well with him and treat him as part of the team.”

Pieck’s eyes crinkle as her smile widens. “That’s great to hear. It makes me feel so much better knowing that you guys are getting along well now,” she tells them, and the members of the Panzer Unit are practically vibrating with joy at the small bit of (undeserved) praise. “Shall we eat together then? I’ll treat.”

The members of the Panzer Unit all heartily agree, but Porco hesitates. He’s sure that the Panzer Unit will be on their best behavior so long as Pieck is around, but they’ll probably resent him if he joins them. He’s even more certain when Pieck turns to him, waiting for his answer, and the members of the Panzer Unit also whip their heads around to glare at him. He doesn’t think he’s ever received such scathing looks.

“Er, no, thank you,” Porco says, trying his best not to look at Pieck. He’s afraid his expression might give him away. If the Panzer Unit was upset about being scolded once, they’ll definitely be angry about being told off a second time. “I have … a thing to get to.”

“A thing,” Pieck repeats. She waits for Porco to elaborate, but he never does. She sighs through her nose and gestures for the Unit to follow her. “Come on then. We’ll just have a delicious lunch without Porco. Let’s go, boys.”

After Pieck’s back is turned, the Panzer Unit leaves, but not without passing by Porco with smug expressions on their faces. Carlo even has the gall to make a rude gesture as he walks past, one that definitely would have gotten Porco’s fingers broken in his school days had an instructor ever seen him make it. Porco would say something, but it’s pointless anyway. If Pieck can’t make the Panzer Unit like him, then it’s probably impossible.

Porco had never felt the need to be liked. He was fine being by himself. He didn’t make many enemies, but he didn’t make many friends either. It’s how he lived for most of his life, and he was fine with it until now. He can’t explain why, but he wants the Panzer Unit to like him. He wants to get along with them, or at the very least he wants them to stop looking at him like they want to murder him.

He tries to approach them alone the next few days, but they give him the cold shoulder. Even if they put on their brightest smiles around Pieck, they make it clear that they only tolerate Porco because it’s Pieck’s request. After Pieck’s gone, they want nothing to do with him. Porco has never wanted to be liked so badly.

There isn’t anyone he can really talk to about this predicament. Pieck is definitely out of the question. If Porco were to bring this up with any of the military officials, they’d probably just laugh at him for having such a childish problem. And Zeke …

The man did say that Porco could come to him with any problems he had, but Porco doubts that this is something that Zeke had in mind. Zeke had probably meant for Porco to ask him about any problems he had with his Titan or inquiries about future missions. Porco’s not even sure what Zeke would say if the Warrior told him about the Panzer Unit. Then again, maybe Zeke might be helpful. After all, Zeke also had to be introduced to the Panzer Unit when he first began working closely with Pieck. Maybe he had a similar experience and could give Porco a few pointers. Porco only regrets asking Zeke for help when he arrives at Zeke’s office and Zeke gives him a blank stare.

“You … told me I could come to you whenever I had a problem,” Porco says as the War Chief stares. The Warrior almost doesn’t dare speak to Zeke about the Panzer Unit. There’s a chance that the War Chief will send Porco out of his office immediately and then spend the rest of the day at his desk wondering why the young Warrior was coming to him with such a childish problem, but Porco so desperately needs help and Zeke is the only person he can think of turning to that it’s a chance that he’s willing to take.

“Ah, did I?” Zeke asks, putting down his paperwork. He leans forward, fingers steepled. It looks as though the War Chief doesn’t quite believe Porco. The War Chief must be busy if he’s forgotten an offer he made hardly a week ago. When it’s clear that Porco isn’t leaving until his problem is resolved, Zeke sits back with a smile. “Oh, of course. It’s only natural that I should help you with your problems. What is it again?”

“The Panzer Unit hates me,” Porco sighs, slumping miserably in the chair across from Zeke’s desk. “Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but we’ll be working closely together now that I’m the Jaw Titan. I’d like them to be able to trust me, but it’s clear that they despise being in the same room as me and I don’t know why.”

“Hmm,” Zeke hums as he fiddles with a pen, twirling it between his fingers like a baton. He doesn’t even really look as if he’s paying attention to a word Porco is saying. Porco’s about to repeat himself once more until Zeke opens his mouth to ask, “And you really have no idea why? They haven’t said anything to you?”

Porco wrinkles his nose. To say that they haven’t would be a lie, but the short conversation he did have with the Panzer Unit a few days ago didn’t seem to be helpful. Maybe Porco just needs a new perspective. “They did mention something … about me not knowing Pieck’s favorite color?” he finally admits. He expects Zeke to look just as bewildered as he felt about this entire thing, but the War Chief just chuckles.

“You don’t know Pieck’s favorite color?” Zeke asks, finally putting his pen down. His full attention is on Porco. Porco should be happy about that, but right now he just feels himself getting frustrated.

“Nobody told me I had to know these things!” Porco protests, nearly throwing up his hands. He doesn’t understand why Zeke is still sitting there with such an amused expression. “What? Do you know Pieck’s favorite color?”

Zeke grins lazily at Porco, leaning on his elbow with his chin resting in his hand. “Of course, I do,” the War Chief replies easily as if it would be ridiculous not to know Pieck’s favorite color. “Why wouldn’t I? It only makes sense for me to know such things about someone I work so closely with.”

“I … I guess?” Porco says with a frown. Of course, it’s only natural that you would learn your comrade’s likes and dislikes after working with them, but he’s only really talked to Pieck for a few weeks. Surely, he isn’t expected to know everything about her in such a short amount of time. “Do you … do you know a lot about Pieck?”

“Of course,” Zeke hums, but he doesn’t offer any information on what he does know about Pieck. Porco was hoping that Zeke would offer some details about Pieck — her favorite color, her least favorite foods, her pet peeves, anything — but the War Chief says nothing more. Porco isn’t sure if getting information from the War Chief is always this difficult or if the man is just that oblivious.

“Alright then,” Porco says, standing up suddenly. He doesn’t think he can bear being in the same room with Zeke any longer. The silences are becoming more and more aggravating, and all he can think about is escaping from the War Chief. With a thin smile and a quick salute, saying, “I’ll be sure to take your words to heart, Sir.”

“That’s good,” Zeke replies, although he’s not really listening to Porco anymore. He’s already going back to his paperwork, his pen in hand. “Be sure to come by and talk with me whenever you’re free. It’s refreshing to have a casual conversation with my fellow Warriors.”

Porco doubts that Zeke means what he says, but the Warrior assures Zeke that he will stop by another time. As he hurries down the hall, the heels of his boots clicking against the hardwood floor, Porco vows to never again seek help from the War Chief.

While the talk Porco had with Zeke was overall very disappointing, Porco decided that Zeke had a point. If he was going to work with the Panzer Unit, he had to learn as much about Pieck as possible. It’s clear that the members of the unit held the holder of the Cart Titan in high esteem. Porco himself respects Pieck a great deal, although he doesn’t show his appreciation for her the same way as the Panzer Unit does. Compared to the unit, Porco is quite ignorant regarding Pieck. Of course, the Panzer Unit would take Porco’s lack of knowledge on Pieck as an insult to the very woman they worship. If Porco had to learn everything about Pieck in order for the Panzer Unit to treat him like a human being, then that’s just what he was going to do.

Over the next few weeks, Porco collects as much information on Pieck as possible. Some things he learns during casual conversations with Pieck. Occasionally, he slips in a question here and there, although he’s sure to keep the questions as unsuspecting as possible so that Pieck doesn’t catch wind of what he’s doing. He slips into stores and restaurants right after Pieck does to ask the employees what Pieck had bought or if there are things she makes sure to avoid. There are store clerks and waiters that give that information up willingly while others are a bit more difficult to work with, insisting that they can’t give up any details about customers’ purchases because it’s a breach of privacy. They usually change their mind after Porco slips them a few bills under the table.

Of course, the closest and most abundant source of information about Pieck would be the Panzer Unit, but Porco can’t get close to them. Whenever he gets close to them, they shoot daggers out of their eyes until the Warrior escapes around the nearest corner, so asking them for any information about Pieck is out of the question. Fortunately, his military training has made him an expert in sneaking around and spying on others. He eavesdrops on an alarming amount of Panzer Unit conversations revolving around Pieck. He’s not sure if it’s because they have nothing else to talk about or if the Panzer Unit just likes Pieck that much.

Whatever it is that compels them to talk about Pieck all day and night, Porco is grateful for it because he’s fairly certain that he’s become an expert on her before two weeks is even up. He knows her favorite color (green, but the mossy green you’d find in a forest), her pet peeves (people who sneeze loudly, men who take up way too much space when sitting down but for some reason she’s absolutely fine if a woman does it, and people who wake up before 8 AM), and her allergies (shrimp, chestnuts but it’s fine if they’re roasted, and certain citruses). Without looking at her, he knows the exact color of her eyes (a very dark brown with black flecks although the Panzer Unit swears they’ve seen little specks of gold in the right light), the angle of her nose (110 degrees, which Carol insists is the perfect angle for a nose), and her height down to the nearest centimeter (155.3 cm). If he were to be given a pop quiz on Pieck, Porco would be able to complete it in under ten minutes and he’d be more than confident about getting every single question right. Porco says as much to the Panzer Unit when he’s finally finished with his research on Pieck.

“I know everything about Pieck,” he announces to the Panzer Unit one afternoon. This time, he doesn’t cower when they all turn to glare at him. He stands there confidently, his head held high as they glower.

“Tch. Don’t kid yourself, Galliard,” scoffs Hermann, the thin man mirroring Porco’s stance. He’s taller than Porco by a few inches, but Porco still doesn’t back down.

“Go ahead then. Ask me a question about Pieck and I’ll answer,” Porco challenges.

The members of the Panzer Unit glance at each other, Carlo looking particularly hesitant. Egon, however, just shrugs, figuring that entertaining Porco won’t hurt anybody. The dark-haired boy steps forward, clearing his throat before asking, “Alright then … What’s Pieck’s favorite color?”

The question is so easy that Porco has to laugh. “A deep mossy green, the kind you’d find in the forest on the side of a tree,” he answers while the Panzer Unit’s eyes widen in surprise. Porco lets out another guffaw before gesturing for Egon to continue. “That one was too easy. Ask me another one, one that’s actually a little hard.”

Egon is starting to look a little uneasy now, shrinking back into himself like a turtle into its shell. He stammers something, but no coherent words come out. The boy glances nervously at his comrades, waiting for one of them to save him.

Hermann steps forward, still at his full height but this time his hands are shaking even as he clasps them together behind his back. The man’s mouth is set in a grim line. “What foods does Pieck hate and why?”

Porco pretends to think, enjoying the way the Panzer Unit tenses as they watch him. He rubs his chin and hums, drawing the silence out as long as possible even though he can answer in a heartbeat. “Let’s see,” Porco says, clicking his tongue as he pretends to struggle with the question. He knits his brow together and purses his lip in a pout. “It’s mushrooms, isn’t it? She hates their rubbery texture and would, I believe she said, ‘eat a leather boot.’”

The soldiers are shaking now, practically quaking in their boots. Porco wants to gloat, wants to dance around them and laugh. They wanted him to become an expert on Pieck, and now he is. The fools probably thought he’d never be able to do it.

“W-well, what about … her favorite place to go to relax?” Theodor asks, but he’s shaking too. He leans away when Porco moves in closer, turning his face away from the Warrior’s growing sneer.

“The lake by the schoolhouse, of course,” Porco replies swiftly, and Theodor lets out a pathetic whimper. He cackles, his gray eyes scanning across each member before landing on Carlo. The boy looks as if he might faint, but it doesn’t stop Porco from stepping menacingly towards him. Porco juts his chin out, eyes shining. “Come on then, Carlo. You haven’t asked me anything yet. Surely, there’s something I don’t know about Pieck that you guys do.”

Carlo cowers, trying to hide behind Theodor and Hermann, but it’s no use. Porco can already see in the boy’s eyes that the Panzer Unit has been defeated. Still, the boy feebly tries to ask, “W-what is Pieck’s favorite animal?”

The question makes Porco throw his head back in raucous laughter, his cackling loud enough to make the Panzer Unit flinch. Porco’s shoulders are still shaking when he looks down on Carlo, ready to answer the boy. “The fencepost jumping spider,” Porco replies with a little laugh at the end. “She likes how cute and fuzzy they are.”

The Panzer Unit stands there, stunned. Porco can see it in their faces: they’re torn between accepting defeat and screaming in his face that they’ll never accept a fiend like him in their team.

“You think just because you know everything about Pieck that we have to accept you!” Carlo cries. There are even tears streaming down his face now, his cheeks a ruddy and indignant flush of red. “There’s more to being a part of the Panzer Unit than knowing Pieck’s every like and dislike!”

Porco is about to roll his eyes and tell the squad to just give it up, but Carlo’s words make him pause. The Warrior hadn’t thought much of the Panzer Unit until he learned he would be working with them and even now he admits he doesn’t know much about them. He knows that they assist Pieck by acting as gunmen while the Cart Titan heads into battle and that they have a deep affection for the woman they assist, but now Carlo insists there’s more to them than just infinite knowledge on Pieck Finger and the ability to handle weaponry.

“Really? Like what?” Porco asks, genuinely curious.

“Well,” Carlo says, puffing his chest out. He looks around at the others a bit nervously and it’s clear that he’s stalling for time, but Porco waits patiently. Maybe the boy will come up with something interesting or at the very least entertaining. It takes Carlo another minute, but an idea comes to him and Porco can practically see the lightbulb flicker on above the boy’s head. Pointing a finger at Porco, Carlo says, “I can do a handstand for a whole minute.”

“A handstand? For a whole minute?” Porco repeats. He’s confused about how doing a handstand would be beneficial on the battlefield. Is it supposed to help with blood flow? Porco’s done handstands back when he was a kid, but that was more for fun than anything. He can’t even remember if he’s held it any longer than fifteen seconds let alone a whole minute, but it doesn’t seem that difficult. He’s a Warrior now, so doing a handstand shouldn’t be that difficult, especially if that’s all it takes for him to be accepted by the Panzer Unit. He takes a deep breath and rolls up his sleeves.

“Alright then,” Porco says, gesturing for Carlo to step forward so they can get this over with. He points at Hermann. “You. Count the time. We’re doing handstands.” Before anyone can say anything more, Porco is upside-down with his hands pressed against the dirt, little pebbles digging into his skin. He doesn’t look, doesn’t dare to look because his balance is precarious enough already without any extra movement, but he hears some fumbling across from him and sees an upside-down Carlo-shaped shadow beside him.

The next minute goes by excruciatingly. Porco can hear Hermann counting beside him, but he can’t hear the numbers. Hermann might as well be counting in gibberish and it would be all the same to Porco. Porco can only focus on keeping himself upright, not even daring to breathe because he’s afraid the subtle movement will send him toppling over and there’s absolutely no way he’s losing to a shrimp like Carlo. The Warrior tries not to think too much about how all his blood is currently flowing to his head or how the pebbles on the dirt road are digging into his palms. He does his best to empty his mind, telling himself that this pain will soon be over even though it feels like an eternity has passed already.

Carlo seems to be struggling just as much. The boy’s face is beet red and although he doesn’t sway on his hands nearly as much as Porco does, his arms tremble as he tries to hold himself up. Every so often, a strangled groan escapes the boy's lips, but he doesn’t dare give up. As Hermann continues to count down the seconds, Egon and Theodor crouch down next to Carlo to whisper-shout words of encouragement to the boy.

“You can do it, Carlo! Just a few more seconds!”

“Imagine how proud Pieck will be when she finds out you’ve beaten Porco Galliard!”

“You’re almost there. Hold on, Carlo!”

Porco wants to tell them to shut up, but he doesn’t open his mouth for fear that he’ll fall over as soon as he gets the words out. He has to put up with it — the pain of pebbles pressing into his skin, the distracting words of encouragement that leave him to be ignored, and the dizziness that is slowly overtaking him — if he wants to win, and he wants to win so badly.

“...fifty-nine, sixty!” Hermann announces, holding a hand up. As soon as he’s finished counting, the soldier steps back so that the two competitors can fall over onto the dirt road, their chest heaving as they try to catch their breath.

Porco’s arms feel like jelly and he’s fairly certain he blacked out for half a second after hitting the ground. He turns his neck slightly to look at Carlo, who’s currently being taken care of by Egon and Theodor.

“You did a good job, Carlo,” Egon murmurs, helping Carlo up into a sitting position and rubbing his comrade’s back. “Pieck would have been impressed if she saw you.”

“R-really?” Carlo gasps. His cheeks are still a bright red and he looks bleary-eyed, still dizzy from standing upside-down for a full minute.

“Absolutely,” Egon assures as Theodor hands Carlo a canteen full of water. “You were up there an entire minute! Not many can do that, you know.”

“Hey, I ... did that too,” Porco pants. He’s not sure what kind of reaction he was expecting from them. After being rejected by the Panzer Unit even after proving he was a human encyclopedia of Pieck knowledge, Porco didn’t think they would accept him just because he did a handstand, but it doesn’t make it any less insulting when the Panzer Unit turns and glares at him like he’s an annoying pest.

“Is that all you can do?” scoffs Hermann. His nonchalant tone is enough to make Porco snap.

Porco stands up, not bothering to brush the dust on his clothing. The Warrior stalks up to Hermann, jaw squared and back straight. “What do you mean by ‘Is that all you can do?’” Porco snarls as he jabs the man in the chest with a finger, glaring up at Hermann. “I’ve done everything you said! I memorized everything about Pieck! I’ve done a handstand for a full minute! And you’re telling me I’m still not good enough? What do I have to do to please you people?”

Hermann blinks, jaw opened slightly. It’s clear that the man hasn’t thought this through because he doesn’t come up with another on-the-spot challenge for Porco, and just stares blankly at the Warrior with a slightly terrified look on his face.

“I can … I can whistle the national anthem in its entirety,” Egon says suddenly. He stands up so abruptly that Carlo nearly topples over. He puts on a brave face, lifting his chin heroically as Porco approaches, but his gaze wavers when the Warrior stops in front of him, gulping nervously.

Porco is aware that the wicked grin on his face probably looks like it came from a villain out of a children’s fairytale, but he doesn’t care. He’s past caring now. If the Panzer Unit wants to play games with him, then he’ll play their stupid games and win every single one. He’s going to conquer every challenge they throw at him, one-up them at their own special talents, and prove that he’s the worthiest person to stand beside Pieck.

“Let’s go then,” Porco says with a smirk, licking his lips as he rolls up his sleeves. He purses his lips and puts his fingers to his lips, ready to whistle.

Porco spends the rest of his day proving himself to the Panzer Unit. After every challenge, they manage to come up with another one for Porco, each one more ridiculous than the next. He nearly busts a lung whistling the entire national anthem of Liberio, a complex song filled with too many soaring high notes and trills. By the end, both he and Egon are gasping for breath, wheezing and beating at their chests.

After whistling comes apple stacking. The Panzer Unit and Porco raid a fruit stand by the roadside, insisting to the distressed fruit seller that his entire stock of apples was needed for official military business. Theodor claimed that he could stack twenty apples on top of each other without having them topple over, so Porco stacked twenty-one. He would have done more except a group of children ran past him, brushing past his tower of apples and sending them crashing to the ground.

Porco and the Panzer Unit are in the middle of an intense push-up competition when footsteps approach them, familiar footsteps that they all would have noticed had they not been so preoccupied with their battle of brawn.

“What the hell are you guys doing?”

At the sound of Pieck’s voice, all five men collapse on the ground, Egon choking on the dust that flies into his mouth when he hits the dirt road. Pieck is staring at them amusedly, an elegant eyebrow raised.

“H-hey,” Porco coughs, rolling over on his side before sitting up. He’s too tired to even brush the dirt off his clothing. As he catches his breath, Theodor pats him on the back sympathetically. The man is similarly winded, but he looks like he could get in a few more push-ups than Porco. The Warrior is kind of grateful they stopped when they did because he’s starting to lose all sense of feeling in his arms. He winces as he squeezes his tricep, not at all looking forward to how sore he’s going to be in the morning. “We’re just … having a push-up contest.”

The answer must not be convincing enough for Pieck because she hums and asks, “For?”

“Um. To see how many push-ups we can do?” Carlo swallows. The poor boy tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible, but lying must not be his strong suit because the end of his stance tilts upward ever so slightly and Pieck’s frown grows deeper.

“And that is supposed to prove what, exactly?” Pieck prods, staring down at them. It’s a look that says that she knows that they’re all up to some nonsense and, whatever it is they’re doing, they had better tell her what it is or else she’ll be more disappointed about their lying than she’ll ever be about their mischief-making. Suddenly, Porco knows exactly why the Panzer Unit was so distraught when Pieck had been disappointed in them because he’s starting to feel equally distraught if not more so at merely the thought of Pieck being disappointed in him.

“That we’re worthy of fighting beside you,” Hermann finally answers, muttering ashamedly as he draws a circle in the dirt to avoid Pieck’s gaze.

Pieck only sighs. “I told you guys to quit doing this,” she says, sounding exasperated. “Being part of the Panzer Unit is a privilege, but it’s not an exclusive club and you shouldn’t treat it as one.”

Porco and the Panzer Unit sit in front of her, heads held down and expressions like puppies getting scolded for soiling the carpet. They’re too ashamed to even answer her.

Wither another sigh, Pieck gestures for them to stand up. “Come on then. Single file, all of you,” she commands and the Unit immediately follows, standing in line from youngest to oldest. Noticing that Porco is the only one left sitting down, Pieck snaps at the Warrior. “Come on, Porco, you too.”

Porco doesn’t know why they’re standing in a line, but he does as ordered, slouching sadly behind Hermann. He doesn’t lift his head when Pieck walks to the front of the line, but he does hear Pieck share a few disappointed words with Carlo before hearing a sharp smack! The noise is enough for him to try and sneak a peek, but all he sees is Hermann moving forward while Carlo leaves, sniffling as he rubs a reddened spot on the center of his forehead.

Porco has been flicked on the head when he was a kid, usually by his parents for being such a brat, but those flicks only ever left a small pink mark that disappeared within a few minutes. From the looks of Carlo’s forehead, Pieck looks like she flicks hard. Porco’s heard of the torture Marley inflicts on prisoners of war, but Pieck’s finger flicks look far worse than any form of torture.

Thwack!

Porco isn’t sure if it’s because he’s gotten closer to the front of the line or if Pieck’s flicking has gotten more powerful. He does hear Egon whimper as soon as Pieck’s finger hits his forehead, and the poor boy walks away with a spot that’s even bigger and redder than the one Carlo had walked away with. If Pieck flicks him, Porco’s pretty sure he might pass out from the sheer force of her finger hitting his forehead. Porco was a Warrior, but he wasn’t trained to deal with an exclusive clique, joining a Pieck fan club, an endless battle of useless talents, and he sure as hell isn’t trained to take a finger flick from Pieck.

The Warrior’s feet move without Porco realizing. He only becomes aware of his subconscious desire to escape when Hermann holds him back, the man shaking his head sympathetically to show Porco that any attempts are futile.

“We have to do this,” Hermann tells Porco almost sorrowfully.

“Why?” Porco asks in a pathetic whisper.

“Because it’s what comes with being a part of the Panzer Unit,” Hermann answers sagely before turning around so that Pieck can flick her finger against the man’s forehead.

It’s a little comical seeing Pieck tiptoe to reach Hermann’s forehead, but the soldier does bend down a bit to give her easier access. Porco can hardly watch as Pieck places her left hand gently over the man’s face and pulls back on her middle finger with her right. Her finger hits Hermann with a loud thwack, and the man’s knees nearly buckle from the pain. Not at all sympathetic, Pieck merely scoffs before gesturing for Hermann to move out of the way so that she can get to Porco.

“I would have let you off the hook if you had informed me about how they were treating you, but you just had to engage with them instead,” Pieck says. She glares up at him, somehow looking more intimidating than any of his military instructors ever looked despite being hardly over five feet. Then she says the most devastating words, completely shattering Porco into pieces: “Porco, I’m very disappointed in you.”

Porco hardly has time to process these words when he feels Pieck’s finger smack across his forehead, the force of it knocking him onto his ass. Stunned, he lies there in the dirt, staring up at the sky wondering if his life was worth living anymore.

He hears Pieck’s footsteps as she walks away and when he blinks, the Panzer Unit is surrounding him, looking down at him with expressions that say they know exactly how he feels. Surprisingly, Carlo offers a hand to Porco and, after the Warrior takes it, helps him up.

“It’s okay, Porco. We’ve all been there,” Egon says as Theodor rubs Porco on the back.

“It’s not all bad. She usually gets over it after a day or two,” Carlo adds.

Porco knows that Carlo is trying to comfort him, but the Warrior isn’t sure if he’ll ever be over it. All he wants to do right now is bury himself in the ground in shame and never come out. It’s what garbage like him deserves anyway.

“Come on, kid,” Hermann says, wrapping an arm around Porco’s shoulder. “Let’s get you some ice cream. It’s always what we do in times like these. I’ll even buy for you.”

They start walking, Porco trailing behind confusedly. When the Panzer Unit notices Porco lingering behind, they turn back. Carlo even gestures for Porco to hurry up.

“What are you doing? Hurry up!” Theodor says.

“You guys really want me to join you?” Porco asks. He wonders if he had passed out when Pieck had flicked him. He’s half-convinced that he’s unconscious and that this is all a dream.

“Of course,” Hermann says with a snort. “You’re one of us now. Now come on before I change my mind and make you pay for your own.”

Porco doesn’t need to be told twice. He trots behind them, still feeling a little light-headed from the punishment Pieck had inflicted on him but oddly happy. It’s not exactly what he had in mind when he had first thought of getting to know the Panzer Unit, but he’ll take it.

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