Fenris has kept busy since the events at Kirkwall. Tracking Tevinter slavers in the South leads him to the Temple of Sacred Ashes the night before the Conclave. From there, everything begins to fall apart. OR: Fenris is the Inquisitor and he has no patience for Venatori bullshit.

or, Catharsis: The Fic In which Wei Wuxian, shortly after being called into Mo Xuanyu’s body, is further forced into the past, where he proceeds to tumble his way into absolutely nailing a time travel fix-it.

No one knows what the Council is hiding, but the effects ripple throughout the galaxy. Anakin knows he is loved. Former slaves are freed. A long-lost Master and his Padawan are returned to the Temple. No one understands how Obi-Wan Kenobi does these things, but they are grateful for it anyway. A time-travel story from the points of view of everyone but the time travelers.

Four years after Order 66 and the fall of the Jedi Order, a grieving, struggling Ben Kenobi finds himself inexplicably taken back in time, crashing headlong into the foundations of fate. Grasping hope and vengeance with both hands, Ben rebuilds his identity and seeks to change the course of history: by saving Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi Order, the galaxy - and just maybe saving Obi-Wan Kenobi along the way. Featuring a heavy dose of Mandalorian involvement, overall world-building, cultural exploration, and every star wars trope I have ever wanted to write. This saga is written in chronological order and is meant to be read from the first book through to the end. It is also written in a manner designed to be just as engaging the second time around, as some details become more meaningful in the context of hindsight.

The locker room chatter started up almost at once, providing a screen of background noise. Zhenya sat down beside the ghost. “I’m captain. Evgeni Malkin.” “Sidney Crosby,” the ghost said. He didn’t offer his hand, which made Zhenya think he had been dead for a while, long enough to shed the ingrained habits of the living. “I’m, uh. Is it really 2018?”

Jon finds himself wandering. His feet carry him to one of the battlements, snow coming down in soft-feathered waves that dust the rooftops. Winterfell is alive with light, windows glowing and chimneys smoking, and Jon can't remember the last time he saw it so full of life, walls still standing tall. This Winterfell has never seen a Bolton occupation, has never witnessed the march of the dead, the wrath of dragon fire. It is eight years before the fall of the Wall, and it feels like a dream. Jon still can't bring himself to completely believe it. Mance Rayder is not yet King Beyond The Wall, the Free Folk have not yet begun to gather, and what stories there are of White Walkers and the dead that walk are still only that, just stories. It has not yet begun, Jon thinks, dread sinking in his stomach. And then- It has not yet begun, Jon thinks again, the thought taking on a new turn in his mind. - Jon has been given a second chance, a chance to change everything.