(author's note; hi hello. this is your sign to comment on a story you like because i wasn't gonna continue this but one person commented and here we are.

bit of a disclaimer as well- i started this when i was 16 or 17, i am now 23, so there is probably an issue with continuity. 16 year old me had a lot of big ideas that didn't necessarily fit together and now 23 year old me is stuck trying to do a seemingly impossible puzzle while filling plot holes and ironing out the kinks. so my sincerest apologies if something changes slightly/doesn't line up with something written like three years ago.

thank you for your patience and also your ongoing support for the past six years, how wild!

as always, i hope you enjoy. love from J 3)

Ethel closed her eyes, in "her" room, her legs crossed in a basket. The tattered book about projecting sat in front of her, and while she would much rather send a simple email or text titled "how to take down the baddies" it seemed too risky to ask for a phone. Unless Ethel put on a really good lie about Candy Crush, she had no one to contact. So trying to project it was.

Ethel didn't know if she could even do it. She wasn't magic. Well, not that she knew of. She didn't feel particularly magic, but she couldn't be sure.

Focus, Ethel

She scorned herself, shutting down those thoughts. She inhaled deeply and held her breath, focusing on Nathainal. His dry humour and never ending sarcasm, his blue eyes that were slightly darker than her own. They looked uncomfortably similar for her liking, especially considering he was older and, well, a he. Ethel couldn't help her thoughts when they turned to a different he. She could see Dexter as clearly as she could see Nathanial. The green and gold flecks in his eyes. His scarred hands lead to tanned arms, the veins protruding as he held the gun tightly. The way his lips felt against her own lips, soft and exploring as his hands explored her body. The little noises he made beneath her-

Ethel's eyes shot open. That hasn't happened, at least not since she "met" him. It was a memory though, she was certain. It was too vivid to be her imagination. But a memory from when? Perhaps when she was known as Ezra. She frowned. If she was being honest with herself it was a very pleasant memory that made butterflies dance in her stomach. She scowled at herself for getting distracted, and tried again.

This was important. She had to reach them.

Ethel closed her eyes once more, letting her mind wander, hoping if she flung the net far enough she would catch someone, Nathaniel or otherwise.

She must have sat there for hours, it certainly felt like hours, and she was about to give up when she felt it.

It was hard to explain, difficult to pinpoint, but something in her mind shifted. In her mind, she was standing in a house she hadn't seen before but it looked familiar. It was light and airy, and so homely looking that Ethel had such an intense longing to physically be there it shocked her. How could somewhere she didn't recognise feel like home?

There were framed photographs on the wall. Dozens of them. Most of herself and Dexter, some with Valkyrie and a little girl that looked just like her. Nathaniel and that make called Ghastly. The man she struck with her Arnis, Saracen, and a shorter, grumpier man, Anton.

"Ethel?" Said a gentle voice. Ethel turned to see Dexter and her breath hitched.

"I remembered us having sex!" She blurted, and instantly slapped a hand over her mouth. Dexter's mouth, which she simply couldn't drag her eyes away from, formed a small o before he buckled laughing. It was a strange laugh, one that seemed to burst forth from him without his permission, like his body needed a release. A laugh filled with relief.

"Are you telling me you learned how to project to tell me you remembered us banging?" Dexter asked once he composed himself. Ethel remembered her mission.

"No- I, sorry that just sorta slipped out. And I'm- I'm sorry for leaving. I saw Erskine, he was hurting you and I heard the things he said- the things you said and I shouldn't have left without just asking and talking to you-" Ethel was rambling.

"It's okay. How were you supposed to know?" Dexter said, closing the distance between them. He lifted his hand, like he was going to touch her, then dropped it by his side again.

Ethel grabbed his hand and held it tentatively, loose enough he could shake her off if he chose to. He didn't though. He laced his fingers through hers, gripping tighter.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, did you project for this?" Dexter asks.

"Oh, yeah! I have information!" Ethel said, then launched into all the things she discovered. Whether it would help or not, she was unsure, but better to be safe than sorry.

Ethel felt a sharp sting on her face, and all too suddenly the beautiful house with the beautiful pictures and the beautiful man were gone. Instead Erskine was in front of her, in the dark grey afternoon light, seeming very angry.

What the hell are you doing?" He hissed, an inch away from her face. He waved the book in front of her, demanding an explanation that she honestly didn't have.

"I was trying to spy on them." Ethel said softly, the lie rolling off her tongue easier than she thought it would. Erskine leaned back but still looked skeptical. "I feel so betrayed. I wanted to see if they felt any remorse. Any guilt. Anything. But it didn't even work." Ethel said, looking down, hoping she looked embarrassed and ashamed.

"It's petty. I know. But they all lied to me so easily-" just like how I'm lying to you ''and I want, Erskine, I want revenge."

Ethel said, realising she wasn't lying anymore, just using the wrong name.

Dexter, I want revenge

Mercifully it worked. Erskine's face softened, and he sat on the bed next to Ethel, wrapping her in his arms. Her cheek stung where he slapped her. It didn't matter though. She was going to ruin him. From the inside out, Ethel vowed to destroy Erskine Ravel.