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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months

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Dashboard Confessional

Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, mild angst, smut, semi public sex. Word count: ~1.7k

Summary: Billy is forced to deal with past trauma when his girlfriend's car breaks down on the side of the M1, while driving home to Nottingham for Christmas. She finds the perfect way to ease his mind.

Author's note: Day four of the Smuffmas prompts - "reassurance and car sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

Her hands tighten on the steering wheel, eyes flitting nervously towards the check engine light that’s just lit up on the dashboard panel. They’re only an hour outside of Nottingham, and if she was by herself she’d simply ignore it, finish the journey, and take her crappy old Skodia Fabia to a garage in the New Year. But Billy sits in the passenger seat next to her, and she knows that that little red light will look like a fiery beacon to him, a reason to panic. The best thing she can do in this situation is pull over onto the hard shoulder and call AA Breakdown Recovery.

Billy used to joke that she’d spent more on keeping her shitty little car roadworthy than she had when she’d actually bought it. He’d insist on driving them everywhere, his Vauxhall Cavalier the more reliable of the two vehicles.

That feels like a lifetime ago now though, before the Explosive Ordnance Disposal team had pulled him from it and it had exploded into a fiery ruin in the middle of Cranstead Gardens. Billy doesn’t joke at all anymore, and he’s not gotten behind the wheel of a car since.

He has spent the last four months attending weekly therapy sessions. It’s only in the last month that he’s been willing to allow her to drive him anywhere, and that’s not before they’ve done rigorous checks of the entire car to make sure it’s safe; the wheel arches, under the bonnet, the boot, beneath the seats and in the glovebox all need to be examined thoroughly before he’ll even consider getting in.

When it had come time to arrange their annual visit to Billy’s parents’ for Christmas, he had suggested they get the train. However, a return ticket would be close to one hundred pounds each for them. She had argued they would spend less than half that on fuel if she drove, and it would save them the effort of lugging gifts all the way there, only to have to take all of the ones they inevitably receive back with them the same way - everything could just be stuffed into the boot if she drove.

He had relented eventually, and she had regretted it almost as soon as they’d gotten in the car. For the last two hours of the journey his leg has bounced anxiously, and she’s been met with snappy one word answers to each of her attempts to make conversation, despite his insistence that the radio stays off.

If she were a weaker person she’d have decided that this was all too much and ended things long ago, however, Billy is her everything, he always has been. He has never thought much of himself, but she loves him enough for the both of them. Where he sees a failure, someone that lives in the shadow of his successful older sister, she sees a man with a thousand watt smile, someone that lights up the room just by entering it. That light has dulled over the last few months, but she is determined to help it shine once more.

It’s with this in mind that she clicks on the left indicator, pulling over onto the hard shoulder, and switches the hazard lights on.

“What you doing?” Billy asks, frowning slightly as he removes his thumb from his mouth, the nail of which he’s been chewing absentmindedly on for the last few miles.

She turns the engine off, turning to him with a slight smile, an attempt to appease and keep him calm. “Check engine light’s come on, I need to ring the AA.”

“Fuck’s sake!” He seethes, unclipping his seatbelt and forcefully pushing open the passenger side door.

She watches him, illuminated in the darkness by the motorway lights, rounding the car, before stepping over the crash barrier and onto the grassy verge. Sighing, she unbuckles and climbs out.

“Billy–”

“I told you we should’ve got the fucking train!” He shouts, though there is no anger in his tone, she hears it in the wobble of his voice, sees it in the barely concealed tears he’s attempting to hold back. He’s close to breaking down.

“I know, babe, and I’m sorry,” she soothes, “I should have listened to you. But I promise you it’s nothing serious. You know how this old shitheap gets when it’s damp, remember last time it rained and the electric windows stopped working?”

It’s an attempt to lightheartedly downplay his fears, but it’s obviously unsuccessful. She watches as he fishes his cigarette packet from the pocket of his jogging bottoms, pulling one out and lighting it with shaky hands.

She takes out her phone and calls the recovery service, straining to hear over the roar of the traffic that speeds past on the M1. It’s going to be a forty five minute wait for anyone to get to them, though she should consider herself lucky, bearing in mind it’s December 23rd and there are cars nationwide breaking down on their way home for Christmas.

When she ends the call and tosses her phone onto the driver’s seat, she turns back to see that Billy is three quarters of the way through his smoke, his gaze downcast as he stands there shivering. The sight makes her heart ache.

“It’s freezing,” she calls out to him, “at least come and get your hoodie.”

She opens the door to the backseat, grabbing his Adidas zip up from it and holding it out to him. His head remains bowed, though his eyes look up at her, before he crushes his cigarette beneath his trainer and slowly walks towards her.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, slipping the hoodie on and perching on the edge of the backseat, facing out of the car, long legs stretched out in front of him.

They remain in silence for a few moments, Billy simply sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, staring at the ground, as she stands before him, looking out towards the steady stream of cars, eyes narrowed at the oncoming headlights that rush by.

“How long until you get fed up?” He finally asks, looking up at her.

“Well, I’m fed up already,” she jokes, “but we’ve gotta sit tight until someone comes to get us.”

He huffs a humourless laugh through his nose, lips quirking upwards slightly as he shakes his head. “You know that’s not what I mean. How much more of me can you hack before you finally decide I’m not worth the effort?”

“Oi,” she chastises playfully, ruffling a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. “To me, you will always be worth the effort. I’m not going anywhere.”

Billy bends his legs at the knees, planting his feet flat on the floor and pulls her between them as his arms wrap around her waist. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she says gently. “It’s been a rough few months, but we’ll get through it.

“God, I love you,” he tells her, stroking his palm across her cheek.

“Tell me again,” she smiles, leaning down to bump her nose against his.

“Love you,” he whispers, pressing his lips to hers.

She kisses back, expecting it to be quick and chaste, but gasps in surprise as his hand slides from her face into her hair, gripping and anchoring her to him, as his tongue slips into her mouth. He tastes faintly of tobacco, but she responds eagerly as their mouths move together, the sensation sending heat pooling between her legs.

He leans back against the backseat, keeping his feet planted on the ground outside, dragging her with him. She giggles, pulling away breathlessly.

“Billy, we’re on the side of the motorway, anyone could see us!”

“Best give them something good to look at then,” he grins lazily up at her, fingers tugging at the waistband of her leggings.

It’s been so long since he was this uninhibited and spontaneous, that that’s all the encouragement she needs. She scrambles to pull them from one leg, as Billy lifts his hips, pushing his jogging bottoms and boxers down just enough to free his cock.

As she hovers back over him, his fingers move to push her thong to one side, and she can’t help but smile into the crook of his neck. He’s not even fully hard, though his pushes against her entrance are quickly rectifying that.

There’s no time for either of them to prepare each other properly, not for a quickie on the side of the road, so when the head of him does finally breach her opening the intrusion steals her breath away.

She whines, as each slow withdrawal and thrust upwards from him pushes him deeper, her rapidly gathering slick helping to ease his passage, until he’s fully sheathed inside of her.

He pants along with her when she moans helplessly against his shoulder as he pistons up into her, holding her steady by her hips. The tight confines of the car make it so that every drag of his cockhead brushes against the sweet spot inside of her, making her involuntarily tighten around him.

His pace becomes rushed, sloppy, and the feeling of him pulsating inside of her sends her toppling over the edge, white hot sparks of pleasure shooting through her as she spasms around him. His fingers dig into the meat of her hips as he pushes up one final time, emptying himself into her with a groan.

She shifts to move off of him, but he grips tighter, keeping her where she is. “Don’t,” he whispers breathlessly, eyes closed.

“I need to put my leggings back on, babe,” she chuckles, “I don’t think the AA bloke will appreciate the sight of my bare arse.”

“We’ve got time,” he murmurs, pulling her back to him, stroking her hair. “Just stay like this for a minute.”

She squirms, the chill of the air on her naked skin and his spend leaking out of her around his softening length making her uncomfortable, but she stays where she is. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, slowly blinking open his eyes. “It’s just…this is the first time I’ve been in a car where I haven’t thought about something horrible happening.”

Her gaze softens, and she pecks him on the cheek. “That’s good. So, what were you thinking about?”

“You, just you.”

#billy washington x reader #ewan mitchell #billy washington x y/n #billy washington x you #billy washington smut #billy washington angst #billy washington imagine #billy washington trigger point #trigger point billy washington #billy washington fan fiction #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington fanfic #billy washington fan fic #trigger point #trigger point fan fiction #trigger point fanfiction #trigger point fanfic #trigger point fan fic

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alleesaur · 3 days

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Hello is there any way you'd allow your M1-KU design to be used as a VRChat avatar? Totally long-shot question here I know

Thank you for the request! I'm not using her model for anything, so I'd be totally fine with that! I've added a link to the main post of her if you wanted to take a looksee

I've never done anything for VRChat however, so she'd need more rigging and animation

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 months

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Hi hi can i ask for some GFL girls with a S/O that repairs them after missions thanks anyway

(GFL) M4A1, M16A1, AN-94, AK-12, AK-15, and G36's S/O repairing them

This'll be kinda short, but I hope you still enjoy their characterization!

M4 moved her arms around, hearing the servos work as they should.

She turned to S/O with a grateful smile.

(M4A1) "Thank you, I hope I wasn't too much trouble today."

(S/O) "As long as you come back at all to apologize, I'll take it."

They put away their wrench as they handed back her equipment.

(S/O) "Besides, you do a good job on not getting all banged up. Not like SOPMOD, anyway-"

(SOPMOD's Voice) "You sure don't complain when M4 is! I bet you'd like to see all her internal systems, you-"

Both S/O and M4's faces contorted at the crude statement, turning them both into blushing messes.

ST AR-15 walked by and hit SOPMOD on the head, rolling her eyes.

(M16A1) "Ow, ow ow! Hey, take it easy, you're pulling a bullet outta me!"

(S/O) "M1, your pain sensors are disabled. You shouldn't be feeling anything."

Her fake hurt expression vanished quickly.

(M16A1) "Yeah I know, I just wanted to see how you'd react."

They simply sighed, failing to resist a smile from forming.

(S/O) "Then quit squirming. Sooner I get this done, the sooner you can go to rest."

(M16A1) "Yeah, we gotta hit the bar after thi-"

(S/O) "And no drinking. I don't want anything getting all messed up before I get to run diagnostics tomorrow morning."

She pouted, crossing her arms.

(M16A1) "Psh, buzzkill. Sounding like a doctor."

(S/O) "Technically, I am your doctor."

(M16A1) "You're a friggin' engineer!"

(S/O) "Same difference."

M16A1 continued to pout, making S/O's smile grow even more.

(AN-94) "Thank you as always, S/O."

94 always remained completely still during her repairs, which S/O was grateful for.

The other T-dolls on base were not always cooperative, but then again they weren't as advanced as DEFY.

S/O nodded and had 94 stand up, which she quickly gave them a salute.

(S/O) "It is just us right now, 94. No need to be so formal."

94 opened her mouth, realizing what she was doing and quickly averted her gaze.

(AN-94) "Ah. I apologize, it's a force of habit."

(S/O) "I know, I know. Now, how about we relax for a bit? You must be tired after the mission."

(AN-94) "I do not become exh-...Er, yes. I'd like that."

12 simply hums as S/O tunes her legs back into working order. Given how advanced she was, they didn't need to perform too much maintenance.

She never got that damaged during a mission anyway.

(S/O) "There we go. Give your legs a shake.

12 put her legs over S/O's shoulders, smiling even more once she heard them yelp.

(S/O) "H-HEY!"

(AK-12) "Seems like they're working to me.~"

Gently putting her legs back, S/O makes an exacerbated sigh.

(S/O) "So they are."

(AK-12) "Hm, I think there's one more spot not seeming right on my che-"

(S/O) "It's working just fine."

(AK-12) "My, are you staring at them?"

(S/O) "Good lord, woman..."

(AK-15) "...I'm detecting heat rising to your face. Are you alright?"

S/O was making sure 15's arms were looking right with their hands.

But the more they thought about it, it just seemed like they were feeling her muscles up.

Even though she was just a T-Doll, boy did she have muscles.

(S/O) "N-Nothing. Just...your arms are nice."

(AK-15) "..."

(S/O) "I-I mean they're working nice!"

(AK-15) "You do not need to be so flustered. This is not the first time you have felt them."

(S/O) "Well no, but still. I don't want to seem like I'm just a perve-"

15 grabbed their hands to make them stop talking before holding it more gently.

(AK-15) "I do not trust many people to work on me, S/O. Remember that I ask you because I trust you."

(S/O) "...Right."

(AK-15) "...You do seem to like touching the biceps however-"

(S/O) "Oh, come on!"

G36 nodded in satisfaction once S/O was complete.

Before they could even give her the thumbs up, she immediately walked off, but not before thanking S/O.

(G36) "My thanks as usual, S/O. I will make you dinner before I attend to my other duties."

(S/O) "H-Hang on, I haven't even finished diagnostics!"

(G36) "By the time I will have completed my chores, you will have finished your meal and it will be time for me to enter the repair bay again. Rest assured you are in good hands. As I am in yours."

Bowing, and giving a light peck to S/O's cheek, she vanishes.

(S/O) "Psh, I'm supposed to be the one helping you out...Good hands, huh?"

#girls' frontline imagines #girls' frontline headcanons #girls' frontline x reader #m4a1 x reader #m16a1 x reader #ak 12 x reader #an 94 x reader #ak 15 x reader #g36 x reader #m4a1 gfl #m16a1 gfl #ak 12 gfl #an 94 gfl #ak 15 gfl #g36 gfl

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blurredcolour · 6 months

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You Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under | Part One

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

Dick Winters x Female SOE Agent!Reader

The 101st Airborne's jump into Normandy is filled with unexpected surprises for all parties involved.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Weapons, Death, Blood, Gore, Injuries, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Language, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal of Dick Winters by Damian Lewis. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within. Shout out to my bilingual friend who double checked my French lines for me. Non-English is denoted in italics.

Word Count: 4809

--------------------------

Paris – December 10, 1944

The sea of humanity in Gare du Nord was overwhelming as Dick Winters stepped off the train from Mourmelon-le-Grand. Though it was mid-morning on a Sunday, it seemed like everyone was on the move. His height had him standing head and shoulders above most of the crowd as he made his way down the platform toward the exit, nearly bumping into a woman dressed in an olive drab uniform.

“Sorry –” He reflexively apologized in English before correcting it to the local French, though his pronunciation left a lot to be desired. “Excusez-moi.”

You turned back to him, eyes widening with recognition as they flicked over his face. “A captain now.” You smiled as your gaze eventually settled onto the two bars shining on the garrison cap of his Class-A uniform.

“A Canadian now.” He replied as his own eyes settled on the patch embroidered on your shoulder. The hip length jacket, A-line skirt, and peaked cap of the uniform suited you. “Or were you always, Charlotte?” The hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his green eyes met yours.

He did not miss your visible swallow before you recovered with an even warmer smile than before. “I’m sorry you’ve got me confused with my good friend Charlotte Roussel. She’s told me all about you.” You offered your gloved hand to shake as you introduced yourself properly, though he wondered if it was just another cover identity.

Taking your hand in his, he shook it firmly with a bemused expression playing on his face. “Dick Winters. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Captain. If you are in need of a place to stay, I happen to have a recently vacated room in my apartment I would be happy to loan to you, free of charge. The hotels in Paris would love nothing more than to liberate you of your American dollars.”

Dick eyed you curiously, still as full of questions as the last time he had seen you in early June, yet you continued to obfuscate. “I wouldn’t want to impose…” He replied in the time-honored tradition of the polite refusal that preceded acceptance.

“Not at all. Besides, Charlotte would not forgive me if I did not repay you for saving her life.” You insisted with a nod, and he swallowed, noticing the way you now wore your hair to carefully cover your forehead beneath your uniform cap.

“If I remember it correctly, she saved mine first.”

------------

Normandy – June 6, 1944

After the rattling and jostling of the plane as it flew through clouds and flak, the drop onto French soil had felt peaceful in comparison. Granted of course, there was the constant awareness that enemy fire could find him on his way to the ground, but by some miracle he made it in one piece. The same could not be said of his leg bag.

After linking up with Hall from Able company, the pair had set off into the woods with only one M1 Garand between them. Dick had done his best to remain calm and reassuring despite how poorly the night seemed to be unfolding already. Small touches of humor appeared to calm the young man’s nerves but they both remained hyper vigilant to all sounds around them. Roughly ten minutes from their rendezvous they heard a noise to their right and Dick signalled for them both to halt and get low, but before Hall could level his weapon, they were face-to-face with the muzzle of German K-98 rifle.

Preparing to lunge at the soldier’s legs, Dick was brought up short when a figure in dark clothing jumped onto the man’s back, clamping a gloved hand over his mouth before burying a knife into the side of his neck. The unexpected weight thankfully pulled the weapon toward the sky before the soldier squeezed off a few rounds in the struggle, but the brutally efficient downward stroke of their blade had the soldier quickly collapsing to the ground, neutralized. Left standing was a woman clad in what first looked like a skirt but was in fact very wide-legged slacks and a wool sweater with a cap over her hair and a scarf covering her neck and face up to her eyes.

“Parlez-vous Francais?” You asked in an elevated whisper as you crouched down to wipe the blade of your knife clean on a corner of the dead man’s uniform jacket.

Dick and Hall both shook their heads in silence, dumbfounded.

“Welcome to France.” You smiled a little as you pulled down your scarf to reveal the rest of your face.

Dick was struck by many things in that moment, first and foremost being how beautiful you were, which he quickly compartmentalized as he’d been well trained to do. The second was the lack of a French accent, of any accent to your English. You almost sounded American and yet…

The stirring of brush to the left had them tensing once more before a young man of no more than sixteen, tall but obviously underfed and in clothes that had fit him several inches ago, emerged to pick up the German rifle from the forest floor. The function returned to Dick’s brain all at once and he looked back to you quickly.

“Resistance?”

You nodded in confirmation, glancing between the pair of them before turning to the young man. “Emile, donne le fusil au lieutenant.”

“Mais Charlotte…” He protested, gesturing at the older rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Maitenant, Ils auront une nuit pire que la notre.” You replied in a firm tone that brooked no argument and he handed it over to Dick who thanked him with a nod.

Hall immediately began to dig through the fallen soldier’s pockets to find him some more ammo.

“You’re a lot further inland than we were expecting you.” Your comment brought Dick’s attention back to you and he did his best not to let his annoyance at the situation show.

“Any idea where we’ve ended up?” He asked as he took what Hall was able to scrounge with a nod of thanks, tucking it into the pocket of his ODs.

“Half a kilometre outside St. Mere Eglise. You have a map?” You asked with a tilt of your head, and he hesitated a moment, knowing that while he did, it was covered in confidential material. He watched as a knowing smirk stretched your lips. “I have one without your top-secret information, one moment.”

You raised up on your knees to tuck your knife into the sheath at your hip before reaching up the back of your sweater, the motion inadvertently pulling the fabric higher to reveal the skin of your midriff. He quickly averted his eyes to the tree canopy above, wondering when the training on attractive female Resistance fighters was supposed to have been delivered.

The sound of rustling paper had him glancing carefully toward the ground and he relaxed to see you unfolding a map across the leaves and pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. The four of you gathered around as you took out a lighter, using the weak light from the flame to point out your rough position.

“Easiest way to the coast is the railroad tracks – keep off the roads. There is a squad of about ten Nazis with two officers on a horse-drawn wagon. They are making their way to their favourite spot here.” You tapped the map further into the woods.

“Favorite spot?” He prompted quietly.

“To make members of the Resistance disappear.” You replied grimly, glancing at the simple watch on your wrist. “We set explosives here,” you tapped a spot along the rail line further inland, “to detonate about now. That should help you find your way?” You looked up to him just as the explosion sounded in the distance, a column of orange lighting the sky.

“Bravo, Charlotte. À l’heure juste.” Emile beamed at you, and you nodded in reply with a grin of satisfaction.

“Merci. Any questions, gentlemen?” You asked turning back to the two Americans.

“None. Thank you, Charlotte. Be careful out here.” Dick replied earnestly, hoping you were not headed to the German’s so-called favorite spot, but he held his suspicions.

“Same to you.” You nodded firmly folding up the map as he tapped Hall on the shoulder and the pair began to make their way towards the rail line.

You had been right, the explosion made an excellent beacon. The situation continued to improve when he reconnected with Lipton, Guarnere, Malarkey, Wynn, Toye, and two boys from the 82nd. When he heard the whinny of a horse, he realized you had also given him an accurate warning about the group of Germans. While Dick presumed it was usually preferable for Resistance to avoid confrontation, with the numbers he had gathered, he preferred to eliminate the threat and arranged an ambush. Mercifully Guarnere’s premature action did not result in the failure of their attack and the men went about cleaning up the mess while Dick took a moment to reprimand him.

They were about to depart down the road when a rustling in the trees caught the hot-headed Sergeant’s ear. “Flash!” He barked out the password challenge in his brash Philly accent, sending everyone’s eyes towards the edge of the road where you stood, flanked by Emile and two other men Dick didn’t recognize.

“Thunder.” He rapidly replied on your behalf. “Don’t shoot, they’re Resistance.” He elaborated, coming to stand beside Guarnere.

“Merci, Lieutenant.” You exhaled. Your reply was muffled behind your scarf, but the relief was still audible.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a dame!” Guarnere hissed, pouring his excess adrenaline into his outburst.

Your barely smothered laugh reached Dick’s ears, making him swallow reflexively as the group watched you make your way to the back of the wagon. One of the older men, his clothes gone baggy under German occupation, carrying a weapon from the last war, grasped a corner of the tarp laying across some hidden cargo. Together you pulled it back to reveal the bodies of two more of your comrades.

“Merde.” Emile choked out and turned to take out his frustrations by kicking one of the fallen Germans at his feet.

Dick could not help the frown as he walked to the back of the wagon, his eyes falling on the form of a young boy no older than twelve.

“Goddamn he’s just a kid…” Malarkey uttered in dismay.

“They’ve got women and kids fighting out here for fuck’s sake.” Toye growled, slamming his helmet onto his head as he wrenched his eyes away from the scene, moving to take watch to the head of the wagon, obviously impatient to get moving.

“I’m sorry it’s not the outcome you were hoping for.” He looked to your eyes, wishing that scarf wasn’t hiding your face.

“But not unexpected.” You muttered back, straightening your sweater before leaning forward over the boy’s body.

“What will you do?” Dick asked as you grasped the boy’s lifeless arm and slung his torso across your shoulders, hugging his legs close to your body beneath your other arm.

“The only thing we can do - take him home to his mother, so she can bury him.” You replied as the fourth man with you, mid-forties with a build not unlike Randleman’s though still wasted away some, stepped forward to gather the remains of the twenty-something still on the wagon. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Good luck.” You met his eyes briefly, revealing your own glistening with unshed tears, before disappearing through the trees the way you had come.

The next twenty hours passed in a blur – finally reaching the assembly point, destroying the 105mm guns at Brécourt, losing Hall. Would that he could return the boy to his mother as you had been able to do with your fallen. As Dick watched Nixon open the can of food he’d been struggling with, he sighed deeply.

“Met a Resistance fighter in the woods after I landed – she spoke perfect English, Nix. No trace of any accent, at all. The men were all looking to her for direction.”

Nixon raised his eyes to meet his meaningfully. “No shit…” He blinked and handed him the successfully opened food. “Sounds to me like you met a genuine SOE agent assigned to ‘set Europe ablaze.’” His tone was dripping with envy. “Division wasn’t entirely convinced by Churchill’s boasts. She must be one tough broad.”

“She seemed pretty proficient, Lew.” Dick replied with poorly concealed admiration, eyeing the contents of the can reluctantly.

“We ought to send Churchill a thank you card, then.” He smirked knowingly.

Dick let out a half-hearted laugh before his face fell serious once more. He looked to his boots before confessing to the loss of Hall, which Nixon tried to make up for by reassuring him the map he’d retrieved would be useful. Surrendering the food with the excuse of lack of appetite, Dick wandered off lost in thought.

Honestly never expecting to lay eyes upon you again, he was stunned to see you in a hamlet somewhere between Culoville and Vierville the next day. It was no more than a tiny cluster of buildings on both sides of the road, too small to earn a name on the map. The road was clogged with refugees, fleeing the conflict, slowing the progress of the armored division they were meant to be traveling with.

Dick had diverted Easy across a nearby field behind the hedgerow, bringing them to a halt to plan their final approach, his officers naturally gathering around him.

“Christ there’s civilians everywhere.” Welsh hissed under his breath as they peered through the foliage.

“So, who’s going to knock on the door?” Compton grinned, his bulk barely concealed by the late spring greenery.

Dick paused, squinting through his binoculars as he watched you carefully set your wagon, filled with suitcases and other belongings like any other refugee, beneath the window of a café. Your gaze was fixed on the boulangerie across the lane, seeming of a mind to purchase some food for your travels. His eyes followed as you wended your way through the dwindling stream of people, clad in a spring jacket with a worn brown dress beneath, a pair of dusty boots on your feet. You stood out to no one but him.

“Dick?” Nixon prompted in a hushed whisper.

“Hold. The Resistance is here. Which means we most likely have Germans lurking nearby.”

“Resistance?” Nixon’s eyes widened as he fumbled with his jacket to retrieve his own binoculars. “You mean she’s here?!” He whirled to face the road, his movements made less than graceful by his excitement, and Dick barely contained his amused grin as you had already vanished inside the bakery.

His amusement did not last long, unfortunately, as a red-faced German solider came charging out of the café.

“Bingo.” Nixon breathed quietly.

Dick’s lips pressed into a grimace as the man re-emerged shortly thereafter dragging you by a fistful of your hair, shouting and pointing at your wagon. Any remaining civilians on the road quickly scattered into the other buildings or the fields beyond.

“He’s upset about the wagon.”

“You don’t say, Nixon” Compton replied sarcastically, a furrow forming between his brows.

Your voice carried to them, the pleading tone laced with fear making Dick tighten his grip on his binoculars. He could tell you were speaking a mixture of French and German, but not much more than that. “Lew?”

“Please in German…Please in French. I was just getting food. I’m sorry in German. I’m trying to get away from the Americans in French. The death in German. Please.”

Dick could hear the men shifting restlessly around him and lifted his head. “Tell them to hold, not yet. That café has got to be full of Germans. Plan on snipers in the fourth and fifth buildings as well.” He described the assault plan for each of the squads as your pleas continued to ring out parried by barked commands from the increasingly perturbed soldier. “But wait for my signal.” He nodded firmly to dismiss them, and they hurried off to their respective platoons.

Dick wanted to trust that you had the situation in hand, but this surely could not be unfolding according to your plan. He raised his binoculars once more to see you desperately plant your hands on the soldier’s chest, several men drawing a collective breath. Dick narrowed his eyes as your gaze shifted to the left, toward the face of your watch glinting in the afternoon sunlight. He tensed noting your proximity to that wagon, convinced now more than ever that it was filled with explosives.

The sharp ‘smack’ of the German’s glove impacting your cheek had your head snapping to the side in a way that had Dick seeing red.

“I’m going to kill him myself.” Nixon hissed under his breath, but Dick didn’t have time to respond as, surging forward, you slammed your forehead into the soldier’s nose, a bloom of red flooding down his face and yours.

He held his breath as you seemed to stumble back, a bit dazed as a commotion sounded from within the café, but he was able to exhale as you regained your feet and used your ankle to sweep the man’s jackboots right out from beneath him. Dick glanced to the wagon once more with apprehension as you yourself dove to the ground before grabbing the back of the dazed soldier’s coat and hauled his body over yours. He had barely shifted his gaze to the collection of five Germans in the doorway when the wagon exploded violently.

“Right on time…” He muttered to himself, tucking his binoculars away and preparing to advance.

Nixon turned to stare at him, speechless.

“Don’t.” He replied warningly, still unsure if you had survived the blast, giving the debris a moment to settle before he gave the signal, heading straight up the road to you.

Much to everyone’s annoyance, the telltale sound of Shermans approached from further up the road – just in time to get all the glory without really having to do any of the work. As planned, the men peeled off to clear each of the buildings as Dick rolled the dead German off your body. He watched with bated breath as Roe appeared at his side to check your pulse, nodding up to him.

“She’s alive, sir.”

The road was filled with broken glass from the explosion, and fearing for the bare skin of your legs, Dick had Roe help carry you into the bakery as Malarkey reported it clear, the medic sliding his arms beneath your shoulders. Dick did his best to ignore how soft the backs of your knees felt against his fingertips as he managed your legs. They laid you down on the floor in the back room amongst abandoned baking supplies and he swallowed as your eyes fluttered open.

“Charlotte, you’re alright, Doc’s just going to look you over, ok?”

You furrowed your brows and glanced down at Roe as he undid your coat, looking you over for injuries aside from the obvious scrapes as Dick quickly pressed a bandage to the split in your forehead from where you had broken the German’s nose.

“You’re in good hands, I need to go back out there alright?”

You sighed heavily and he looked to your eyes quickly.

“I’m sure you’re speaking in that fucking wonderful American accent of yours, Lieutenant but I cannot hear a fucking thing. I’m sorry.” You spoke, seemingly unaware that your voice was obnoxiously loud.

Dick grimaced at your language as Roe barely contained his scoff of laughter before Dick nodded to you to show that he understood. Eyes pinning yours, he pointed at you firmly before forcefully pointing at the floor.

“Stay here. Understood.” You replied with a nod, a loud groan quickly overtaking your voice.

Dick hesitated a moment, but Roe was already looking over your face and into your eyes. There was really nothing for him to do here and his men needed him outside. Securing his helmet on his head, he dashed back out into the afternoon sunshine. Aside from one sniper’s nest three buildings down the road, which was easily managed with the help of the armored division, the hamlet was secured with only one minor incident involving Muck and some broken glass.

At Nixon’s urging, which Dick allowed to play out much longer than was needed to convince him, he ordered two stretcher bearers to accompany him back to the bakery to fetch you. He was encouraged to find you sitting with your back propped up against the wall, looking more alert with your knife grasped with one hand, though you had not seemed to have had the wherewithal to unsheathe it. He crouched down in front of you carefully, sliding his helmet from his head.

“I’m just going to take that from you, there Charlotte.” He wasn’t sure why he was speaking, fully aware that you could not hear him, but your grip loosened on the weapon as he reached for it.

“Alright.” You murmured softly in response and his eyes snapped to yours.

“You can hear again?” He asked as he tucked the knife into the pocket of his ODs.

You began to nod before halting the movement abruptly. “Mostly…”

“Good. That’s good.” He smiled briefly. “Do you have any other weapons on you?”

“No.” You replied after a thoughtful pause and patting of your coat pockets.

He nodded before standing, addressing the men lingering in the doorway. “Take her to the aid station, Lieutenant Nixon and I will be there as soon as we can.”

They responded with a chorus of ‘yes sirs!’ before he stepped back out to deliver orders for the company to take a rest while they awaited their next set of instructions. It was not long before they were told to proceed to Vierville where Colonel Sink had set up the battalion command post. It was also, conveniently, where the aid station was located. Once the men were situated for the night, Dick and Nixon quickly made their way to hotel that had been taken over as a medical facility.

They had barely walked in the door, the copper tang of blood just meeting their noses, before the battalion surgeon was calling out to him.

“Winters! Why in the hell did you send me a civilian?!”

“Strategic intelligence asset, sir.” Nixon replied smoothly, stepping in front of Dick to take the heat. “Where might we find her?”

“In one of the back offices. She cannot stay here. She needs to go a hospital whenever you’re done…whatever you’re doing.” He narrowed his eyes skeptically, hands on his hips as made his way over to them between the rows of cots set up in the lobby.

“She going to be alright, sir?” Dick asked, tone carefully neutral.

“Concussion, lacerations, bruising, three stitches to the forehead, hearing gradually returning. Overall malnourishment like all the French civilians. She’ll be fine after a week or two.” He muttered. “In a civilian hospital.”

“Yes sir.” Nixon replied quickly with a grin, grabbing Dick’s arm and pulling him towards the aforementioned office.

For all his bluster, the pair were amused to find the surgeon had set you up in a rather nice space, a blanket draped over your legs and a mug of hot coffee in your hands. Though judging by the grimace you made after taking a sip, it wasn’t to your taste. Your hair pins must have fallen out during the struggle and subsequent transport as the style you’d been wearing that afternoon was lost, and a few swathes of gauze now encircled your head to hold a bandage in place over your stitches.

He knocked on the door frame quietly and you looked up, smiling at little, your eyes shifting to look at Nixon.

“Charlotte, this is Lieutenant Nixon.” Dick introduced his friend who quickly stepped forward to offer his hand.

“Lewis, please.” You took it carefully, shaking it in return.

“Charlotte Roussel.” You replied.

“Would it be alright if we asked you some questions?” Dick tilted his head, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” You almost nodded again but caught yourself more quickly this time.

Dick stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and perching on the edge of the desk as Nixon took the only chair. He tried not to grin as you sipped the coffee and grimaced once more, obviously failing to conceal his reaction as you apologized.

“It’s very bitter, but very appreciated.”

“I won’t tell the surgeon.” He nodded with a conspiratorial look.

“So, Dick tells me you’re with the Resistance?” Nixon spoke after a moment of watching your exchange.

Your eyes slid over to Dick, and he tensed, briefly concerned you might be upset with him, before you looked back to Nixon. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Any information you might be able to share with us would be of great assistance.” Nixon nodded encouragingly.

“Well, all of my documents were quite recently destroyed but I’d be happy to share what I remember with you. Do you have a map?” Your question echoed one of the first you’d asked him and pulled a small smile from Dick’s lips.

He watched quietly as Nixon produced as clean map of the area and you easily provided all the information you had on which German troops were stationed where, between wincing sips of the hot drink cupped between your hands. The intelligence officer thrust out his palm about halfway through and Dick patted down his ODs until he produced a pencil for his friend, passing it to him so he might jot down the volume of information you were able to impart.

“And what about yourself, Miss Roussel?” Nixon looked up to you once he’d acquired all your knowledge of military use.

“Me?” You blinked innocently.

“Tell us about yourself.” Nixon nodded encouragingly, leaning back in his chair.

Dick noted the way your fingers tightened slightly on the mug, and he realized it bore the logo of the requisitioned hotel, but otherwise your demeanor remained calm and collected. “I was born just outside Paris in 1920. My aunt and uncle have a farm near St. Mere Eglise. They have no children of their own and when my Uncle Phillipe was killed during the invasion my Aunt Sophie asked if I could come help her. There is more to eat out here than Paris anyway, where you can grow it.”

“Why do you speak such good English?” Dick asked, unable to help himself.

Your eyes turned to meet his curiously. “I was a university student before the war, I had an excellent teacher from America. Ms. Jones. She was able to go home before the Nazis arrived.”

There was a touch of envy there, and though Dick was convinced you were selling them a very good story, the desire for ‘home’ struck him as true. He watched as you leaned back against the wall wearily, your eyelids growing heavier.

“You’ve never been to England?” Nixon prodded.

“No, Lieutenant Nixon. I’ve never left France.”

“Your experience with explosives? Who taught you that?”

“Antoine. He fought in the last war, he was a sapper. He was there after you took out the Germans who had captured our comrades.” You looked to Dick who nodded in reply, recalling the elderly man who easily could have fit that description.

He heard his friend sigh a little in frustration as you seemed to have a perfectly reasonable answer for everything – answers that were not what he was wanting to hear. A sharp knock on the door drew the attention of the group and Dick raised his head.

“Enter.”

A runner from Colonel Sink popped his head in the door and Dick sighed internally knowing they had run out of time. “Lieutenants, Colonel Sink has requested the pair of you at battalion CP immediately.”

“Right, thank you Sergeant. We’re on our way.” He looked to Nixon who sighed audibly in defeat before the pair looked to you.

You were barely keeping your eyes open, the mug in your hand tilting precariously. Dick carefully took it from your hold and set it on the desk.

“Thank you very much for your assistance, Miss Roussel. Do take care.” He stood, wishing there was something better to say, but there was too much to do. The landing had barely taken place and was by no means a sure success yet. The best thing he could do for you was to get out there and liberate France entirely.

“I’ll see to it that you’re transferred to a hospital as soon as we can.” Nixon added.

“You’re welcome, Lieutenants. And thank you.” You replied, Dick swallowing as he could feel your gaze following him out of the room.

-------------------------

Read Part Two

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

#dick winters x reader #dick winters #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers

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ashlynniis-bracketeers · 7 months

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UNCHAINED SANGUINEOUS HEARTMAKER {Guilty Gear}

Riding the high of a resounding Epiphany.

...Did I pull another "Desdinova" purely out of sheer A.B.A hopium? (I kept the lines sketchy, though, because I could not be arsed to try and mimic Strive's linework style again after the pain from last time ahjsdgajhsdgadk)

Yes. Yes I did.

So, those Season 3 character survey results, huh? The A.B.A hopium is real. I really do wonder what they'd do with her if she was brought to Strive, so I decided to try my hand at a "Strive-ified" A.B.A design.

Make sure to check under the cut for the "concept art" I made + their associated information.

So, design background info:

So, she's a... weirdo homunculus, right? An artificial human, created by a mad scientist she never met, so she was alone and never really learned how to... "people". That key in her head also keeps on reminding me of the bolts lodged in the sides of pop-culture-ified Adam's (Frankenstein's monster) head. She's also desperately trying to find a human(oid) body for the demon/magical foci Paracelsus/Flament Nagel, who she is deeply in love with. Artificially-created human, medical themes, artificial human form, deeply in love...

So what if she decided that, with her attempts at finding a body for him repeatedly failing (XX endings don't count, XX's canonicity is completely FUCKED lmao), why doesn't she just... create one herself instead?

In other words, the creation becomes the creator. Lil' bit of "Bride of Frankenstein" thrown in, if the guy making the bride (or in this case, groom) was the monster itself.

So, making her into a key-axe-wielding mad scientist homunculus.

I tried to make her pose reminiscent of a dance move, specifically a "dip".

I hope you like it!

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 01

The first drawing I got done of my design for A.B.A (featuring a base-shapes Paracelsus for scale). Featuring her color palette (F1 is base flesh, F2 is scarring, H is hair, B is bandages, C1 is primary coat color, C2 is secondary coat color, C3 is tertiary coat color, E is "edges", M1 is one of the metal colors, A is "accents", M2 is the second metal color, and the square below that is the eye colors), weird ragged patchwork "lab-coat", boot details, "branding", and some of the text on her design.

- The phrase printed along the front edge of her coat (and the heels of her boots) is "LOCK&SEE" (the "&" stylized to look like/replaced with a keyhole symbol), a spin on the phrase "Lock and Key", fitting with her obsession with keys and tendency towards twisting sayings/phrases into mondegreens. Also implies hiding something.

- The brand on the back of her coat is meant to look like the coffin shape on the back of Paracelsus's head during Moroha Mode, with the nose hole and right eye hole visible. Text above it reads "PARACELSUS" (with the P and R stylized to have curved horns in the back like MM Para), and the text underneath reads "FLAMENT NAGEL" (with similar "horn" stylization on the F).

- The scarring is damage from her not wearing proper protective gear during her experiments (because she doesn't seem like one to wear proper PPE lmao), much of it taking up most of the left side of her upper torso/arm (meant to mirror Strive Faust's stitching).

- She's both grimy and very... "DIY", so her stitching is very hodgepodge.

- The text along the stitching on the back of her coat reads "The More The Moodier.", a play on one of her mondegreen win-quotes in XX (against I-No: "People say "the more the gloomier", but she's just too much to take...") but with the same alliteration as "the more the merrier" which it was derived from.

- The brand on the right side of her shorts is the same as on her back, but without the "FLAMENT NAGEL" and with "PARACELSUS" underneath instead of above.

- The key markings (gloves, boots) all have the same key-blade shape as Paracelsus.

- I had some trouble figuring out some of her colors, as they differed between the sprites (blue metal, glove. and trim) and official artwork (dark brown metal + glove, blue trim), so I decided to have dark brown for the keys and dark blue for the studded trim and left glove.

- The laces of her boots and the buttons on her coat are meant to resemble Para's mouth stitches

- Made her head-key/neck keys have a little skull decoration similar to some of her XX art (it's very inconsistent).

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 02

The second "Strive-ified" A.B.A design sheet I made.

- Both of the large gloves look the same, with the red bands and Paracelsus-blade key markings.

- The dark blue left-hand glove is (mostly) the same. I like to think that it's her "woobie", what with her tendency to get attached to inanimate objects.

- The dark blue cropped tank-top is meant to only be visible in Moroha. The text reads "MOCK&KEY" (the "&" stylized to look like/replaced with a stylized keyhole symbol, the top part of the keyhole meant to look like a coffin), another spin on "Lock and Key" like the previously-mentioned "LOCK&SEE" compounded with her believing herself to be superior to humans. Moroha is what was locked-up.

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 03

Third sheet I made.

- Noting specific design changes during Moroha. Coat opens + key "eyes" gain red glow.

- Design for her head + neck keys.

- Design for her bloodpacks. Text reads "FRASCO". Symbol underneath meant to look like a "flask" shape made out of an upside-down keyhole.

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 04 (Para)

The fourth sheet I made, featuring Paracelsus and his colors.

I honestly didn't change much lmao. His design is already weird by GG standards, mostly just tweaked some things.

- Made his eyes asymmetrical. Right has small iris and no pupil, left has beady pupil. Wanted to make him look "cartoony (western) neurotic/nervous" while hinting at his "main" glowy eye in Moroha being his right eye.

- I blurred/smudged the blood along the bottom edge to imply that A.B.A dragging him around wore away some of it.

- I added some spikes to his collar for a "punk" look, which glow red in Moroha.

- I kept his mouth stitches in Moroha. The mouth-corner stitches remain, while the middle stitches are tied around his left horn.

GG ABA Strive fandesign sheet 05

The final sheet I made, featuring mechanic ideas, "meta" stuff, and a design for repurposing an older move into a reversal super.

- Non-replenishable resources don't really fly in Strive, so I decided to make them replenishable through an alternate version of Bonding (a.k.a Keygrab). One Keygrab variant for Moroha, one Keygrab variant for a bloodpack. Starts off with no bloodpacks. Max three bloodpacks at a time. Functionality basically the same as XX.

- Turned Altercation (i.e. Enter Goku Moroha) into a Moroha-exclusive reversal super. Goku Moroha is not something that flies by modern fighting game characters, let alone Strive, so GM would definitely get axed. Still keeping Altercation as an absolute weirdo of a move, taking different resources depending on how much she has of each.

- Not sure what to actually do with Moroha's function/moveset, but having an "Install" state is the big thing that defines A.B.A's playstyle, so she'd probably keep at least base Moroha.

- Evidence: Concealment becomes a full reversal that only hits one hit as opposed to three, because most people cancel it after the first hit anyway lmao

#Guilty Gear #A.B.A #Paracelsus #GG Aba #Guilty Gear Aba #GG Paracelsus #Guilty Gear Paracelsus #Guilty Gear A.B.A #GG A.B.A #Brackets Draws #Brackets's Art #long post #fanart #fan art

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twstgameplay · 1 month

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Mod Jeido's 12th NRC Exam Results

Another round of NRC Unified Exams have come and gone and I eked by the S5 threshold by the skin of my (very sharp moray) teeth.

I'll go into detail on my teams and strategies that helped me get to this score. Hopefully this can be of use for others who are looking for reaching the higher scores. I wouldn't have been able to make this happen without the crowdsharing of teams online and really good support cards.

Here are my individual scores for each test:

Before, in order to get a score of SSS (110k) you would need an average of 22k in each test. Now, in order to reach S5 (160k), you would need an average of 32k. Once again, I would be relying heavily on my defense test scores.

My teams will be placed below under the cut for length. All battles were done using the Extra tier difficulty.

I hope everyone did great in the 12th NRC Exams!

~🐬

FIRE ATTACK TEST - 30413

In order to cross the 30k threshold for the Attack tests, it's imperative to finish on Turn 5. I was stuck at 29k for most of the exam session, but at the urging of a few other exam takers, I tried this team (specifically double Lilia) to my success. The levels and magic chosen are shown as above. Each character has max magic and buddy levels.

A few key points about this team:

Jamil and the two Lilias needed to be activated by themselves. This is because Jamil's ATK UP L and Lilia's DMG UP L are on their M3s and only last one turn. If RNG is unhelpful and you cannot activate both Jamil's spells at the same time, then you would not get the boost. The same goes for Lilia 1 and Lilia 2.

Similarly, Epel's M1 has an ATK UP M for 3 turns. As long as it is activated before his M2, then his M2 DUO with Idia will be boosted.

Other teams I tried that still got me scores over 25k (All Lv. 100+): ―　Dorm Azul, Boa Epel, Masq Idia, Dorm Ortho, Support Dorm Azul ―　Dorm Kalim, Dorm Jamil, Masq Idia, Dorm Ortho, Support General Lilia

WATER BASIC TEST - 31279

Despite all the new cards that have appeared, this feels like an "old faithful" combination that still has not steered me wrong. The levels and magic chosen are shown as above. Each character has max magic and buddy levels.

A few key points about this team:

Since this is a basic test, the number of DUOs is key. Since these are heavy hitters, I found I had depending on which of the non-DUO cards that appear first, I would either have to finish on Turn 3 or Turn 4.

At first I was using a Lv. 110 Leona but found that I would have to end on Turn 3 in order to be able to use all 5 DUOs, and RNG was just not playing nice. So I found someone who hadn't leveled him up all the way and this helped me stretch it to T4, given that neither of the Leonas' M1s showed up.

My Vil/Support Leona DUO combo was hit by the foe Jack's ATK DOWN which sincerely helped me as well. Sometimes debuffs aren't terrible, especially when you need to try to stretch it to T4.

Other teams I tried that still got me scores over 25k (All Lv. 100+ unless stated): ―　Dorm Malleus, Dorm Silver, Dorm Sebek (Lv. 95), Dorm Lilia (Lv. 95), Support General Lilia ―　Bday Riddle (Lv. 85), Dorm Leona, Dorm Azul, Dorm Vil, Support Dorm Leona

FLORA DEFENSE TEST - 37031

Once again, Heartslabyul on a Defense test becomes the most frustrating out of all the tests. Three out of the five have Curse to block heals, and when you're running three cards that have continuous heals, this can be very detrimental. This score was the result of successfully activating every single heal except one turn of my Ortho's continuous heal. The levels and magic chosen are shown as above. Each character has max magic and buddy levels.

This team gave me a total HP of 77,757 with an additional 43,986 in healing. I was able to end this battle with 64,991 HP left.

A few key points about this team:

Whenever possible, I would make sure to activate Leona's continuous heal on T1. Depending on the magic I had available at the time, I either would have paired him with Idia's debuff removal (if it looked like the foe had Riddle, Cater, or Trey showing up first), or Silver's M2. For Extra, at least one DUO would be necessary for me to kill on Turn 5.

Ideally, both Cerberus Orthos should be activated at Turn 2. However, this is not always possible, nor is it practical. Each one of Ortho's heals does a 6k+ single heal (along with setting up a continuous heal) so if I hadn't taken more than 13k in damage, it would have been wasting some precious HP points.

In the case of this score, I activated the support Ortho on T2 and my Ortho on T3. I was hedging my bets that I may get a debuff on T2, so I could use Idia's M1 to help mitigate that.

Luckily, this score was successful (after many many many many many unsuccessful tries) because I was only hit with a debuff on T5, after all my heals had successfully activated. Only the last little bit from my Ortho's continuous heal that was activated on T3 was not counted.

COSMIC DEFENSE TEST - 31397

I was able to get a score surpassing 30k fairly quickly, so I didn't spend that much time on Cosmic this time around. Since there are no type advantages, I went with another "old faithful" team that I knew would produce results. The levels and magic chosen are shown as above. Each character has max magic and buddy levels.

This team gave me a total HP of 86,892 with an additional 23,889 in healing.

A few key points about this team:

This test had no Curse, so it was a rather leisurely Defense test. But, as always, I would always try to activate both Cerberus Orthos' M1 heals on T2. Since this was Cosmic and there were no advantages, I would have lost enough HP during T1 that I would not have lost any healing to maxing out my HP.

Because this was a Cosmic test, however, I would need to use all 4 DUOs that I had brought into the test in order to kill by T5 and getting a high score.

OMNI ATTACK TEST - 29898

While it stings a little that I was unable to get above 30k here, this test was my last ditch effort to get my score above the 160k threshold for S5. The levels and magic chosen are shown as above. Each character has max magic and buddy levels.

A few key points about this team:

Similar to Fire Attack Test, Jamil and both Lilias needed to be activated individually with both their spells at once. Unfortunately, this wasn't always possible, since Omni tests can hit you with something you're weak against when you're not expecting it.

Hitting a few neutral elements was unavoidable, but as long as I didn't hit any disadvantages, I knew I would be able to finish on T5.

Originally I had some heavy hitting DUOs on my team instead of Dorm Riddle and Dorm Leona. For example, at one point I was using Dorm Rook and Boa Epel. I was trying to leverage their M1 boosts, but to no avail.

One person on discord commented that they threw in Dorm Riddle and Dorm Leona into their team in order to just hit hard with four total double attacks and they were able to increase their score. So I tried the same thing here, and while I wasn't able to get over 30k like i was hoping for, it did get me the 926 points I needed to get over the 160k threshold.

#mod jeido #twst brags #twst strategy

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