Hey Transcendence people! I’m hitting a writers block again, hence why I haven’t released anything Paz related these past few days even tough its been my days off. So basically, I’m opening prompts up again, specifically i want some bad ass Paz prompts! You have any suggestions for Paz kicking ass I’ll take em!
So, another Transcendence AU fic. This one involves simpler times and badass ladies.
3200-ish words Rating T (for swearing Pacifica, blood and violence [but not insane, scarring amounts of either]) Also maybe a little OOC in regards to Mabel, idk. If in a week I look back and find it ridiculously OOC I’ll fix it.
~~
Pacifica was fifteen the first time she was kidnapped, tied up, and sacrificed to an immortal demon.
The said kidnapping occurred during the summer, obviously. Although technically the presence was year-round, it seemed like the supernatural preferred heat over snow, making a larger appearance throughout the months of the year where the schools were empty. This was clearly due to the absence of Mabel and Dipper during the rest of the time.
The Pines twins were sent off to Gravity Falls every summer, as obviously their parents didn’t want them at home. Pacifica didn’t blame them—a demon child was not exceptionally something to be taken with pride. But whatever. Mabel obviously liked it here better than home anyway, although Pacifica couldn’t confirm if Dipper felt the same way, seeing as how he was now an omniscient, invisible freak.
Okaaaaaaaay so I’ve had this sort of half fic thing sitting around ever since I submitted that thing about Paz forever ago, and I finally got to a point I could call finished with it. Sort of thought that there was a lot about Paz and Mabel in early highschool or thereabouts, and a whole ton about her when she’s older, so I thought I’d write some about her late teens/early twenties. More to come maybe?? Who knows.
Goddamn can those two idiots throw a party, Pacifica thinks as she surveys the scene like a drafted solider would a battle field.
All the people of Gravity Falls need is a little push in the right, wrong, direction and they let loose, they go wild. They have fun. They step back and take a deep a breath. Pacifica is finding it a little hard to let go of her anxieties at the moment. Even with three already empty cheap red plastic cups.
Sure her heads a bit fuzzy, but only a little.
She is defiantly not as shit-faced as some of the more seasoned patrons. Speaking of which, Dipper just hiccuped and turned a pool-table into a apple tree. Branches sprawling out from the trunk into the ceiling, roots digging into the floor, buds blooming on the branches, dozens of apples ripening in seconds.
When she arrived, ahem, after she had been kidnapped from her sensible, sophisticated, party at her own home by her demonic aquantince, Dipper had dropped her from his shoulder and dumped her into the middle of the dance floor. He’d smiled at her wickedly with his dumb, cute face and had flown off to wreck havoc elsewhere.
Now he was glided up to where she stood off to the side, trying her hardest to hide from the loud crowd of rowdy party animals.
“Hey,” he said swaying a little in midair.
“Hey,” she said, hiding her grimace with a weak smile.
She sipped her drink and he raised an eyebrow.
“Alright, spill what wrong?”
“What? Nothings wrong, everything’s fine,” she said defensively, quickly, not wanting to divulge too much into her own personal life at the moment.
He gave her a withering look that clearly read ‘i can see straight through that baloney, you ain’t fooling no one sweety.’
She huffed and looked away.
It might be nice to talk to someone right? Get it off her chest? Confide in someone?
Except she wasn’t completely sure Dipper was trust worthy with such a… delicate subject. He was a demon after all, and she had seen him be pretty demonic, especially a few weeks ago when a manticore tried to-
“Pacifica,” he said, genuine worry leaking into his voice.
She snapped her eyes back to his rather abruptly. She looked into his eyes, really looked, and what she saw made her chest squeeze painfully. Dipper was her age. She was a little older, only by three months, but they were still the same physical age. So why did his eyes look so old? It wasn’t that they were filled with cataracts or were dull like her grandmother’s glazed gaze. His gaze just carried this weight and experience that meant something.
What had he seen that gave his eyes that tint of knowing, like he’d seen all and knew all, and was displeased with what the crystal ball on his mantel had shown him. Like he had read every book ever been written, or would be written, and each and every single one had ended unjustly and tragically. What had he seen that gave his eyes a hue of understanding grief? All his favorite characters had died pointlessly and alone. He looked like he saw the beginning, the middle, and the end, but didn’t know who to tell; or if anyone would be willing to listen.
She found herself think how she would be willing to listen.
“My parents,” she said giving into the temptation of a shoulder to at least lean on, “They’re fighting again.”
He nods his understanding, signaling for her to continue.
She bites her lips, and closes her eyes tightly. Unable to hold his gaze any longer.
“They’re using me,” she spites, “they using me as a bargaining chip. As a weapon against each other.”
“Im sorry,” he says “is there any way I can help?”
“No,” she says shaking her head. Pacifica doesn’t want to talk about herself anymore. How Freaky Friday is that?
“How are you doing though, Dipstick?” she snaps at the genuinely concerned look he’s giving her, wanting and not wanting to insult him at the same time. How dare he show her sympathy, how dare he show her pity. He’s the one who should be pitied.
“As shitty as ever,” he says with a too wide grin, pulled aggressively across his lips and cheeks. He bares his shark teeth at her, he caught her insult, this is his response to her little angry jab. His smile unnerves her like it always does when he gets like this. He hiccups again and the plastic cup she’s holding turns into a goblet bedazzled with rubies and emeralds, the cheap rum and coke turning into fine red wine.
Oh my god he’s so drunk, she thinks a little mortified.
“Must be hard,” she says avoiding eye contact by sipping her drink smiling at the taste of cherries, not that he notices.
“Yeah…but its getting better,” he watches Mabel wrestle the microphone from Manly Dan so that she can sing the chorus to their shared duet, his smile turning goofy and relaxed. She looks toward him, her colors flux for a moment from violet to mint green. He turns his head back toward her to see whats wrong.
“That’s good. I’m glad,” she says quickly looking away for a second to where his sister was causing a ruckus on the karaoke stage.
He follows her gaze to the stage and then looked back to Pacifica and couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face. Her colors were genuine and warm. All the tension that had suffocated and twisted her before was gone. Like the soothing feeling you get when you drink a warm cup of hot coco and you can feel the warm liquid rush into your stomach. Her colors were sweet like chocolate on a cold day and warm like a sunrise. Brining to light affections he barely had the mental capacity to comprehend at the moment. She seemed happy, really and truly happy.
Despite what she might have ever said tonight, or any time since she’d met the twins, she was genuinely pleased to be there. With him. With everyone who actually gave a shit about her. She was happy he was here too.
And it was most likely his blood to alcohol ratio at the moment but he was rather overwhelmed by the influx of emotion and caring he was receiving from Pacifica Northwest at the moment. He was such a sap. A sappy pine tree. The irony was delicious like the keg of ale he had chugged ten minutes ago. And this burst of affection turned him into a complete, emotional wreck.
God, he just loved everyone here so much. His chest felt tight and light at the same time.
He knew he was a touchy-feely kind of drunk. He knew that he would cling to the people he cared about possessively and sometimes burst into spontaneous tears and/or giggle fits because he cared so much and they were so vibrant and alive in this moment. He could feel everything so acutely that it always seemed to overwhelm him. And that was just when he was sober. Generally he had enough presence of mind to keep himself in check and not let his sappy ‘huggy wuggy’ emotional urges control him. But when he’d had a little to much to drink, meaning the whole liquor store and the winery down the street, that carefully constructed “socially acceptable grace” dam broke.
His chest gave another tight, warm, pleasant squeeze as it filled with affections and happiness. She gave him a curious look. Lifting one platinum blonde eyebrow past the hair line of her bangs. His smile widened, his head far too fuzzy for logic and reason to kick in any time soon. He saw the beginnings of a blush tinting her cheeks but dismissed it rather thoughtlessly.
There was a part of him. A small nagging voice that knew, that just knew how she felt; how she really felt. But the rest of him was ignorant. Maybe ignorant on purpose. It was better, easier, for him to ignore it. Rather than confront it for what it really was.
The poor girl, a twisting voice said, you’ll break her heart without even trying.
He barely heard that voice’s cruelly ironic words through the buzz in his head and the numb warmth in his belly.
He reached forward, placing his open palms onto her cheeks. Cupping the sides of her face in his hands, a giddy grin breaking and stretching out over his face. Running the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks. He wanted to express to her how much he appreciated her presence and her soothing colors. And, as many a relative or friend had told him, he got very affectionate when he was completely shit-faced drunk. He leaned forward, sensing no negative colors, only encouragement.
That’s a nice change, he thought absently.
He pressed a delicate kiss to her left cheek. His aim was a little off of course. He ended up kissing the corner of her mouth too, but only a little. Not a big deal. Her skin was warm and soft anyways.
There was a burst of color. An explosion of magentas, reds, pinks, blues, greens, and gold. It poured from her with such vigor and surprise. Like the stuttering heart beats pounding into her chest.
He pulled back and laughed, hiding his face in her hair, some part of his mind recognized the smell of jasmine on her hair and though it was nice.
He wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his face into her shoulder. His shoulders shook with giggles. It took her a good long moment to accept and respond to the drunken gesture. His shoulders shook with mirth, he swayed from one side to the other. Losing balance easily and floating absently from right to left, her arms locked around his waist were the only thing keeping him from floating up into the ceiling and staying there like one of the party balloons.
After her initial shock faded, and the gravity of what he had just done sank in, she turned seven different shades of flustered.
But, as has been proven, Pines’ laughter is infectious. Pacifica found herself chuckling along heartily with the boy in her arms soon. Suddenly feeling the affect of all the rum and coke and the cherry red wine she had previously consumed. She actually giggled. If she’d had the presence of mind, Pacifica would have blanched at this absurd display of…affections. But he seemed happy, and he was really warm, and his fair was really soft and tickled the side of her face. Ugh. One sided crushes on dream demons were the worst.
Pacifica Northwest was not pinning for him, pun unintended.
“Hey, Hey, you know what?” he said pulling away a little with his arms still resting on her shoulders.
“What, what?” she replied not even bothering to fight the blush that creeped up her on her face. Crush her affections for this dumb adorkable idiot.
“We should go sing a karaoke,” he laughed, the tips of his pointed impish ears tinted pink.
“Together?” she laughed.
“Yeah!”
She gave him a skeptical look and he actually pouted at her, Goddammit.
It had to be illegal to be that cute, especially if one is an all powerful demon of destruction and terror.
Fuck it.
“Well c’mon then loser!” she said grabbing his hand and not giving herself a moment to second herself.
She looked though the binder with the list of songs available on the karaoke machine as Dipper wrestled the mic from his sister; materializing another microphone out of thin air into the palm of his hand.
On a whim she picked a song she knew she would regret in the morning, whatever, she was going to live right now and not give a damn. Not about her parents. Not about the divorce hanging over her head. Not about her social life in shambles. Not about all the eyes always on her.
Dipper tossed he a microphone and she pressed play.
“Can’t count the years on one hand. That we’ve been together. I need the other one to hold you. Make you feel, make you feel better,” she sang, letting the music speak for itself.
”It’s not a walk in the park. To love each other. But when our fingers interlock, Can’t deny, can’t deny you’re worth it“ Dipper joined in, he shouldn’t sound that naturally good, he was totally cheating.
”’Cause after all this time I’m still into you,” she sang.
”I should be over all the butterflies! But I’m into you. I’m into you. And baby even on our worst nights. I’m into you. I’m into you.” They sang together. Laughing their asses off.
”Let ‘em wonder how we got this far. ’Cause I don’t really need to wonder at all. Yeah, after all this time I’m still into you.”
”Recount the night that. I first met your mother. And on the drive back to my house. I told you that, I told you that I loved ya,” she sang loudly as the crowd raised their glasses and danced to the song.
”You felt the weight of the world. Fall off your shoulder. And to your favorite song. We sang along to the start of forever. And after all this time I’m still into you,” Dipper serenaded. She had to compose herself, laughing enough to almost miss the chorus.
”I should be over all the butterflies. But I’m into you. I’m into you. And baby even on our worst nights. I’m into you. I’m into you. Let ‘em wonder how we got this far. ’Cause I don’t really need to wonder at all. Yeah, after all this time I’m still into you,“ they belted out in unison.
”Some things just, some things just make sense. And one of those is you and I,” she sang closing her eyes with a smile that actually reached her eyes, ”Some things just, some things just make sense. And even after all this time,”she warbled unable to not laugh at the end.
”I’m into you, baby, not a day goes by, that I’m not into you,” Dipper picked it up where she left off, hitting a rather impressive high note.
”I should be over all the butterflies. But I’m into you. I’m into you. And baby even on our worst nights. I’m into you. I’m into you. Let ‘em wonder how we got this far,” by this time the whole crowd was singing along with them and Pacifica couldn’t remember the last time she was so happy.
”’Cause I don’t really need to wonder at all. Yeah, after all this time I’m still into you! I’m still into you! I’m still into you.”
~~~~
The next morning Pacifica woke to the obnoxious buzzing of her phone on her bed side table. She groaned, hiding her face under her covers trying to ignore the nuisance. For some inexplicable reason she had a raging headache. Finally she couldn’t take it any more, she groaned as she dragged herself out of bed to answer her annoying phone.
As it turned put no one was calling her but her friends were freaking out and sending her a constant streams of messages. One of the messages, from her friend Gabby, was a link to a YouTube video.
She tapped the link with her index finger as she closed the shades, sighing in relief as the room darkened significantly. Hangover headaches be damned. Why did she have a hangover anyways? Odd.
As the it loaded Pacifica noticed the title of the video.
Live Karaoke with Alcor
She creased her brow in confusion for all of two seconds before the video fully loaded and she saw herself through the lens of a shaking iPhone catching a microphone and smashing the play button on a karaoke machine.
Oh shit.
It all came back to her, the whole night, even the water gun fight afterwards. The words she had said, the fucking kiss.
She looked at the number of hits and likes the video had. It had gone viral.
Okay, because I keep meaning to write this but never get around to it here’s a basic synopsis of the series Pacifica is acting in called “Vixen”.
Basically it would be a TV series that starts after Paz leaves Gravity Falls and moves to Portland (my personal headcanon, feel free to change it up if you want). Estimated time, this is after the “Tyrone” incident with her family and high class circle, but before Henry and Mabel start dating. Needless to say Paz has been back since there but her first headcanoned by me meeting with henry is written out somewhere in my writing tag and i’m too lazy to find it to link.
POINT IS!!
Vixen is a TV series that revolves around a human boy who’s fiancé was killed in front of him by a mysterious enemy. or rather, his just turned fiance. The boy, known as Allan in the show (but played by Eric Styles, not to be confused with Eric the boy who likes Alcors Answering Machine), had been seeking advice from a bartender, Pixie AKA Pix, before gathering the courage to propose to his girlfriend. When she was killed he went back to the bar and discovered Pix had also been harmed by these people.
So basically its a revenge story. he learned that Pix is the lone survivor of a group of Kitsune who were wiped out by the same group. As a Kyuubi, the nine tailed fox, she feels responsible and is seeking revenge.
The important note here is that Pix and Allan are not romantically involved in the series. They get into a lot of situations together and learn to help each other out despite their differences. Cause yeah, even though Pix offered to help Allan in the beginning, it was mostly for her own cause so they had a rocky start.
There would probably be romantic sub plots and other things going on it. Really, the story is up for grabs since the majority of it isn’t even set in stone. Hell i haven’t actually figured out who this group is that allan and pix are out to get.
On a side note,I headcanon that Mabel is a fan and totally ships Allan and pix together and paz just doesn’t know how to handle that.
so yeah, there’s a quick synopsis of vixen, like I promised.
backup 