and from these lips, i drew a hallelujah - a dipper/pacifica audippica week: day one - AU - Church A

and from these lips, i drew a hallelujah - a dipper/pacifica audippica week: day one - AU - Church AUdrawing by: @iamjoemom / @mygfblogstory by: @diisco–girl​         The catastrophe of his tale commences when he’s told he has one assignment left before becoming an exorcist, before completely giving himself to the faith and being one with the church. Ford looks at him in contemplation as he looks up. His nephew’s come a long way since a young boy with big dreams to take the world by storm; with both his stake and bible at hand, Dipper looks at him in rapt attention, ready to ingest any and all words. “Only one more before completely becoming a man of the church,” Ford says in all pride, regaling his black uniform with it’s white collar. “We have a ghost to exorcise, an unholy demon that lives in the Northwest Manor, think you can handle the job?”       Dipper smiles, a jolt of adrenaline kicking into his veins any and all times an assignment is given. “Do you doubt me?” He says in a rather cocky manner, all inheritance of the Pines family name.       “Fantastic,” Ford agrees, joining his hands in one clap before picking his suitcase up, filled with books and all the needed armor for demon exorcising. “Onwards, son.”         The mansion is gallantly immense, walls that nearly go up to skyscrapers overflow ahead of him and he’s in awe of the sheer gallantry of the place, it seems straight from Stoker’s novel, a mansion full of twists and turns, walls of concrete and wood overheating their own presence.        “Thank you for taking care of our problem,” The patriarch of the Northwests, Preston, speaks, extending his hand in greeting towards Dipper’s uncle and Ford in his mild mannerisms politely accepts, taking to heart every word said. “We’ve had this rather nasty problem for a while now and we were told you two were the best in the business.”        “Well, now, Mr. Northwest, I assure you we take our job very seriously,” Ford speaks and Dipper, although he’s a young man of only a few words is right behind him, stoic and respectful, nodding and watching the entire scene in detailed manner. “We’ll do whatever we can do rid your wonderful home of any devilish motions.”       “Splendid!” Preston exclaims, and suddenly from the corner of his eye, Dipper notices a figure approach. “Pacifica, darling, come. Meet our heroes.”         And it’s as if the world suddenly stops, Dipper seems to breath real life into his body for the first time. His faith has always been questionable, and yet as he stood here behind his uncle, watching the young woman his age approach, he can say with all certainty in his cobbled together body that in fact, maybe– just perhaps, there is a God. No human creature could ever take pride in calling the young woman in front of him to be only mortal, for her incandescent form took more in. Her long, blonde hair form a ring of aura around her that is beauty, her eyes are drops of sky blue that make his breath hitch. “Are they here for our situation?” She asks and her voice is soft, angelic, the fist he holds in his pocket tightens. This is a test, He thinks, watching Ford and Preston converse as the girl stares back at him. It has to be. “I’ll show you two to the problem area.”        And she’s looking directly at him as she says these words, carefully taken words placed in a sentence to convey an order and Dipper finds himself dragging his feet behind her. “Lead the way.”        Pacifica, like any other rebellious eighteen year old girl, has always had trouble with her parent’s authority, and whatever implications they may have placed on her to limit her capacity of cans and can’t dos. However, as she walks the Pines into the problem area and watches them converse and plan strategies as plates and glasses start lifting themselves up, the fire escape roaring back to life.     “Teterrimus ille daemon , vade ad locum istum,” Ford’s voice starts chanting, dark and booming as Dipper behind him readies a stake, flipping through the pages, reading same words out loud. “Pacifica, stay back!” Dipper says as the whirlwind of table settings becomes rapid, the mounted animal heads on the wall bleeding dark  ooze.         She’s frozen in her own place, by both fear and fascination, this is the first time she’s ever encountered a spiritual being at this level and her heart races against her chest. “Northwest,” The screeching demon voice reads, a violent, dark wind surrounding Pacifica. “You must perish.”      “Dimittam eam,” Dipper says, the wind knocking him back but not before he manages to plunge himself at her, using his body to shield her from the tornado of utensils above them. There’s a racket going on far away from them, a far off noise of Ford managing to trap the demon in a mirror vessel and smashing it to the ground, but as Pacifica lies on the floor, breathing heavily as she wipes her strands of blonde bangs from her eyes, she sees Dipper above her, staring back at her, clothes tattered and in terrible shape given the conditions of the previous fight. “You alright?”         His voice, worried and confused, manages to snap her out of her trance, deep brown eyes that had been looking back at her with such intensity that she hadn’t noticed Ford standing to approach them. She sits off, him following to sit beside her on the floor. “Yeah,” She says, touching her head as Dipper stands, offering his hand to her. Preston enters the room, so Pacifica manages to collect herself, to calm down the nervous tremor in her body at the thought of Dipper looking at her that way again. “I’m fine.”        As she walks up the steps of the church the next week, Pacifica tells herself over and over again that it’s entirely a coincidence that she’s suddenly become an interested patron and would like to enhance her singing. That it’s entirely a coincidence that she’s been accepted into the church chorus that Dipper does his practices in and it’s completely a coincidence that in her first rehearsal he’s sitting in one of the pews, observing her. She’s aware that he’s also overseeing his sister in the choir, the young soon to be nun Mabel Pines, but as she sings about sweet submission into the divine, she can’t help the flare up her back that emits from his tree barked colored gaze among the echoing, vast church.         “You were wonderful,” He tells her after practice, the cross hanging like a judge in his neck as Pacifica looks at him and tries to keep all her wicked thoughts at bay, as if God Himself could see them. “You’re voice is a lovely addition to the chorus.”         And it’s the adulation and validation in his voice that makes her heart thump against her chest, hands twist at the side of her catholic school skirt. “Thank you.” She manages to say, quickly making her way out of the room, feeling his gaze at the back of her head.        It’s another late night in the monastery library when Dipper finds himself nose deep into some book or another when he hears shifting against one of the library pavements. He’s been looking into what exactly were the Holy Laws regarding exorcists feeling… both adoration and desire for someone that wasn’t by definition divine, that was a mortal as his own flesh and bones and as if lies become reality, he spots Pacifica at the corner of the library, filling all her papers in a file. “I’m sorry,” She says, placing a separate patch of hair from her forehead to the back of her ear. “I was looking for the new notes. Mabel told me they were back here?’’        Pacifica’s features only heighten themselves in the low light, electricity hadn’t been sufficient in this part of the building and at the moment as Dipper used a candle to illuminate the room, Pacifica’s form nearly glowed underneath the light, the fire creating around her a sentiment of lovely and divine incantation; Pacifica had to be a creature of light for him; no God would create a woman like her without the purpose of having her be adored.        And it’s the moment where they both reach for the same paper and they’re hands brush one across the other that Dipper feels an electrifying spark course up his body as he looks up into her eyes and all heaven and hell comes crashing down on him. He wants her, he wants this woman body and soul in a way he’s never desired for anyone ever before and duty and desire clash in his head as he swallows the knot in his throat.       “Yes, well,” Dipper says nervously, running his sweaty hands down his pants. “I’ll leave you be.” And he swears that there’s a sense of disappointment as he walks away from her. As much as he might feel like a young god himself on the high of exorcising and demolishing the evils of the world; the temptation of the forbidden might be too much for him to take, so with a quick decision, he makes the choice to walk away. From her, from his desire. Next time he sees her, he’ll need someone to pray for his doomed soul. -- source link
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