#BARRISOKA HAD A CHANCE???????

[glup--shitto]

What AUs with Barriss and Ahsoka have you found?

i found some fanart/ideas for aus in some drawings of @//critter-of-habit, two or three by nibeul on insta ,,,, and in the barrisoka tag there's a lot more+ good fanart but I didn't explore more of the tag cause i fell asleep lmao

I'm currently searching for some fanfics on ao3 !!! I'll be updating this post as i find new ones!

- the sith touch by sunkelles

their interpretation of how it would be in the end of rebels season two. they wrote the story from ahsoka's secret relationship with bariss, to ahsoka feeling betrayed by barriss, to her leaving the jedi order to the rebels S2 finale. uses a study of mythology, jedi legends and angst <33. cried 10 times reading it. the author could explain the emotion so well i ,,,,,

- its the killers who inherit the earth by apricots

the author wrote in four chapters what they imagined that happened to barriss during and after prison. its implied to have barrisoka although its not the primary point. after being arrested, barriss awaits for her execution, but it never happens, instead, all the jedi die. she's set free by darth vader and falsely promises to become an Inquisitor. while during her job, she gets to a planet with crystals and !!suprise suprise!! ahsoka!! this one is also angsty but its pretty cool!!!

- it rains when it pours (when you're out on your own) by WhereverMySITakesMe

! Inquisition! barriss!!!!! the Inquisition mistreats their own agents. barriss ached everyday from some kind of pain she couldn't even comprehend, her nerves touring down and her spine made her suffer and her own head making her feel guilty, unlovable and filled with regret. when she is sent to execute the ex-jedi ahsoka, she realizes how hurt she is and ahsoka offers her a chance to heal

- it's a bad wind that don't blow somebody some good by irhinoceri

barriss was part one inquisitor, the first sister. but after some time she decided to leave, run away and finally find the person she dreamt about. barriss spent weeks, months dreaming about geonosis, about ahsoka, about what she had done , andshe didn't expect forgiveness and patience but it was what she got. after localizing ahsoka, they talk in correlia and finally understand eachother.

- the loser of this bout by AriesOnMars

barriss and ahsoka fight and ahsoka learns once again that barriss is a difficult opponent. in here we have 1: ahsoka with fangs!!! 2: soft ending!!!

- forgiveness by sweven

short 100 word ficlet that just makes me smile lol. its not big of a deal but if u don't have anything to read and is in need of something that probably would make u smile here's the solution!!!

i might add more later because its like 5am rn but if this is what you wanted anon, here is it! OH AND IF You have any other fic/au that u think i might like pls dm or tag <33

goodnight yall!!!

[banditchika]

lost and found

fandom: star wars: the clone wars (loosely assorted canon)

words: 17,421

ship: ahsoka/barriss

author’s note: what if we used to be best friends until you betrayed me, and ten years down the line you save my life and give us the chance to start over... aha... just kidding... unless? 

anyway @mirrormystic and i are proud to present our barrisoka post-clone wars collab! barriss has a gun. ahsoka, being ahsoka, is perfect. what more could you want from a piece of transformative fiction??

They had chased her across two planets now. A combination of luck, skill, and an insistent  go run flee  pulsing through the Force has kept Ahsoka’s head firmly attached to her shoulders so far, but the Inquisitorius is relentless. Having a hot meal in a cantina? Bam, Inquisitor kicking down the doors-- Inquisitor sprawled on the floor, Purge Troopers tripping over him, fumbling for their blasters, and Ahsoka, forced to eat and run for the third time in a month. And if it’s not them, it’s bounty hunters, or pirates, or worst of all,  slavers. She’d been careful not to let them catch her going anywhere important, but there was nowhere she could go where they wouldn’t eventually sniff her out, so she’d thought,  kriff it,  and flew straight to Coruscant. If she was going to be dogged no matter where she went, she might as well send a message: “I’m better than the very best you can throw at me.” It had been a plan Anakin would have been proud of. It almost worked, too. Then the Force-- the very same Force that saved her from droids, bounty hunters, pirates, old friends and enemies and the order that killed everyone Ahsoka ever cared about-- saw fit to send her careening into a dead end alley, with no way out besides the way she came... …Right into the arms of  the hooded figures flooding the alley, neon lights glinting off their eyeless masks. Thanks,  Ahsoka thinks venomously at the Force, sacred lifeblood of the universe.  Thanks a lot, really. Ahsoka stops counting bodies after five. The Inquisitors don't deign to speak as they ignite their sabers--or whatever that dual-bladed spinny thing is supposed to be. If they're not bothering with banter, Ahsoka won't either. It’s almost gratifying to know that she’s annoyed them as much as they’ve annoyed her. For a moment, no one moves. Ahsoka catches her reflection on the blank, gleaming plate of the lead Inquisitor's helm and bares her fangs. The alley erupts into chaos. Motion. Heat. Ahsoka becomes the pure white eye of a blazing red hurricane. Ahsoka ducks and weaves around flashes of red lightning, some figurative, some literal. The air fills with the whirring chop of lightsabers spinning like buzzsaws, but Ahsoka isn’t intimidated. She darts through the chaotic melee with grace and poise, a far cry from the clumsy brutes arrayed against her, shoving past one another to land the prestigious killing blow, unable to press their advantage of numbers. And what numbers! There must have been a dozen Inquisitors packed into the gritty side street. Ahsoka wonders-- in the midst of darting aside sloppy slashes and swatting overly-telegraphed blows aside-- if they had simply joined forces as more and more of them picked up her trail, or if the Empire had sent so many after her from the very beginning. This many Inquisitors on the same planet, much less the same city, is astounding overkill. Ahsoka’s almost flattered. Filthy red light flashes through the air and cracks against Ahsoka’s blades. She shoves them back with a thought, feeling the Inquisitors’ frustration rippling through the air. The Inquisitorius seemed to think a red lightsaber and a nice hat were all it took to scare any fledgling Force-sensitives into submission. They must not be used to fighting a Jedi worthy of the name. But even if they were amateurs by comparison, there were a lot of them. And all it took was one slip, one break in Ahsoka’s guard… She sees the feint. Two low, one high-- two to sweep her legs, the third to catch her when she jumps. She curls her legs beneath her, lets the Force flow down from her core into the soles of her boots, and leaps over all three… ...only to see the waiting line of a half dozen hands, stretched, palm-out, towards her. The coordinated Push hits her like a freighter lighting its drives. It snatches her out of mid-air and hurls her down the length of the alley. Ahsoka wheezes as she’s smashed against the far wall, the breath forced from her lungs, her lightsabers clattering to the pavement. She crumples to her knees, hugging herself, a spiderweb of cracks spreading across the duraplast wall above. Ahsoka gasps, teary-eyed, willing some air back into her lungs. Her insides feel like jelly. Her vision blurs and shifts. She sees the shadows of the Inquisitors looming above her, closing in like wolves. One of them barks an order into his helmet mic, and the others stand aside. He strides forward to the head of the pack. He’s been hunting her the longest. This is his kill. Ahsoka swears she hears him lick his lips behind the mask. He ignites his lightsaber. It begins to spin-- A blaster clicks. The Inquisitor whirls and brings his saber up too late to deflect the shot that cracks against his arm. His lightsaber falls from numb fingers, still spinning, cutting glowing gouges in the pavement. Ahsoka twists the Force in her fist and dashes him against the wall. A hail of acid yellow bolts cascades down the alley, forcing the Inquisitors on the defensive. Their opponent stands at the entrance of the alleyway, casting a shadow that stretches narrow from their feet to titanic against the filthy alley wall. Ahsoka sees the shape of a hood and cloak, and when their blaster barks in their hands she catches the briefest glimpse of pale skin and a narrow, snarling mouth. A shiver runs through her. She feels it from the tips of her montrals all the way down to the pit of her gut. Ahsoka  knows  this stranger, but who-- She almost pays with her nose for her distraction. The Inquisitor whose helm she shattered against the alley wall leaps to his feet and lashes out with his spinning sabers, blood drooling from the cracks in his helm. Ahsoka catches a blade with her main saber and lets the motion of it drag the Inquisitor within thrusting range of her shoto. Another Inquisitor lunges, but a shot cracks against their helmet. A glancing blow, but it still distracts them long enough for Ahsoka to whirl and turn her thrust into a slash, searing through their saber arm. The Inquisitor falls. The other, with his spinning blades, lets out a ragged cry and pounces. Blaster fire harmonizes with the hum and crash of colliding sabers, a frantic, dissonant symphony. Something strange is at work here-- even if it weren’t for the horrible, lurching knot of familiarity sitting in her gut, the stranger’s shooting would have tipped Ahsoka off eventually. Blasters are great for crowd control. Blasters are great against people who couldn’t deflect them as easily as one might shoo an annoying insect. Blasters should not be anywhere near effective in a fight consisting entirely of Force-users. But this stranger’s shots are landing. Not lethally and not often, but the stranger is proving to be capable of more than just cover fire, and that-- that alone would be worth noticing. Unfortunately, it seems the Inquisitors have finally picked up on it. In frustration at being distracted from their quarry, the rear ranks of Inquisitors adjust their grip on their lightsabers and tighten their deflections. When the hooded gunner looses their next volley, the bright yellow bolts are angled right back where they came from. The stranger shifts their weight, darting away from their deflected fire with a speed and efficiency of movement that gives Ahsoka pause. If Ahsoka had had any doubt this was no ordinary concerned bystander, it’s long gone. An Inquisitor barks a garbled order over their helmet radio. Down the street, a squad of Purge Troopers rounds the corner, bringing their rifles up to aim. A second blaster appears in the stranger’s off-hand, as if conjured out of nothing. They gun down the troopers barreling down the street with clinical efficiency and absurd precision, single shots, quick, clean. They don’t even bother turning to look. And when the last trooper falls, the stranger turns their attention back on the alley, toggling from single-shot to full-auto with a click. A storm of searing yellow bolts stitches its way up the side of the neighboring complex. A creaking old fire escape is sheared from the wall. The Inquisitors cry out in alarm as the aging structure crashes down on their heads in a heap of sparking metal. Ahsoka channels the Force down into her feet and propels herself over the wreckage and the rising dust cloud, joining the stranger on the street. Already, she can hear the buzzing of spinning lightsabers scything through metal, the first Inquisitors emerging from the debris. In an instant, the stranger has their twin blasters up and firing. The stranger’s pushed their luck too far. The Inquisitor spins their ring blade, and this time, the storm of deflected bolts makes contact. An arm. A hand. The stranger cries out as a bolt clips their hood and the impact throws them to the ground. That voice. Ahsoka  knows  that voice-- A flash of red streaks past her face and stops just shy of carving into her chest. Ahsoka catches the blade on her own, grits her teeth, and slices her opponent open with a tight, scissoring slash. As the Inquisitor crumples, she sees two of his compatriots already rushing forward to take his place, the others already picking themselves off the ground. Ahsoka snarls, hunkering down against the renewed assault. The Inquisitors are finally getting serious-- or maybe she’s the one getting sloppy. Distracted. She’s distracted-- but she can’t get that voice out of her head. She senses the Inquisitor trying to sneak up on her from behind. She senses him, but she can’t stop him-- her lightsabers are locked against the two in front of her. Ahsoka grits her teeth. She cries out, takes a pair of glancing cuts along her bracers as she punches her blades across two throats. She feels something. A tug at her waist. Behind her. She whirls around, bringing her lightsabers up to defend. Too slow, too slow-- And she sees the Inquisitor go stiff as a board, a blade of acid yellow plasma punching through his spine and coming out through his chest. The stranger swipes the blade aside, and the man crumples. The woman-- and with her cloak pulled aside and her tunic hugging her curves, her womanhood is impossible for Ahsoka to ignore-- raises the yellow shoto in her uninjured hand, pulling her hood back up onto her head. Ahsoka blinks, her thoughts spinning. The shoto Anakin had given her years ago. Her empty belt pouch. The sensation of the Force pulling something from her belt. And those eyes. Though the woman tries to hide them under her hood, the yellow glow of her borrowed shoto catches her ocean-blue eyes, illuminating the faded arch of diamond tattoos across her nose. Ahsoka gasps. “Barriss?” Ahsoka’s senses flare in warning and she whirls around, catching an Inquisitor’s blade on her twin lightsabers. The Inquisitors descend upon them, snapping and snarling like wolves. Ahsoka stands her ground like a cliff against the sea, blocking strikes from every angle, swatting aside incoming attacks, letting her foes overreach, pull themselves off balance. And in her shadow, Barriss prowls, Ahsoka’s yellow shoto like a dagger of light in her hands. Barriss circles around like a jungle cat, hunting for weaknesses, plunging her shoto into every broken guard. The next few minutes feel like hours. Finally, the last member of the hunting party lies broken on the pavement, his helmet radio crackling. Barriss stabs him in the throat without batting an eye. Barriss deactivates the shoto and shifts it into her injured hand with a wince. One of her blasters, she scoops up from the sidewalk where she’d dropped it. The other, sparking from a ruptured power cell, she leaves where it fell. She turns to find Ahsoka staring, so intently she squirms and looks away. It takes Ahsoka a long moment to deactivate her lightsabers and put them away. Ahsoka exhales. It’s been years. What is she supposed to say? That’s when Ahsoka hears it-- the crackling of radio chatter. Armored boots hustling their way. “Where’s your ship?” Barriss asks-- the first words she’s said to Ahsoka in over a decade. “Why, you don’t think we can take ‘em?” Ahsoka asks dryly, with a daredevil grin. Barriss’ lips curl into something almost like a smile. Ahsoka feels a flicker of… something in her chest. Something old, and bittersweet. It doesn’t last. The blurts of helmet comms and tromping boots get ever closer. “Your ship,” Barriss echoes, rather more urgently. “...Right,” Ahsoka mutters. “Follow me.”

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