Chapter One:

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Pacifica scrolled through the online catalog of wedding dresses. They were still in Gravity Falls, crashing at the mystery shack with Soos until they could get cleared to go back to Japan. To pass the time, Pacifica was wedding planning, or trying to. No, she just didn't love any of these gowns. It wasn't the style, or the shapes, or the fabric. It was the color.

White. She could only remember one time she'd worn white, but it wasn't her inexperience with the color, but that one time she did wore white.

She hated it. Hated that even with them in jail, even with them out of her life and a new beginning on the horizon, the memories of their abuse still had a grip on her, no matter how much she tried to fight it. The last time she wore white her parents were trying to pawn her off to a rich suitor like an old chair or dining room table. She'd ended bloodying the dress when her father struck her, busting her nose.

Her mother has always said white was only for babies and brides. Well, Pacifica was about to be a bride and become Mrs. Pines, but she couldn't bring herself to picture herself in white. Setting her laptop aside, she went to the mirror and looked at herself.

Blond hair, blue eyes, pretty face. Almost perfect, until she looked at her bare back, marred by cigarette and cigar burn scars.

Ugh! Still thinking about her parents. Why could she not get over them?

"Because until now that has been you life time."

Pacifica jumped and whirled around to find her fiancé standing in the doorway.

"Dipper!" Pacifica looked down at herself, realizing, with a blushing face, she'd uncovered her entire torso except for her bra. Yes, she and Dipper were married, but they had never done anything like that yet. Quite honestly, she was still nervous as heck thinking about the wedding night and wasn't quite sure how she was going to get through it. Thankfully Dipper had not pushed for any physical outside of kisses. Whether he knew she was nervous, or he was nervous himself (he may have grown up quite nicely since they first met, but there was still some of that socially awkward and nervous kid in him).

Pacifica hung her head, embarrassed, and not sure what to say. Dipper solved that problem for her by talking first.

"Are you okay, Princess?"

"Yeah, I'm just looking at wedding stuff."

"On your back?"

"Well…"

"Pacifica."

She sighed. "I was looking at my scars."

Dipper's eyes softened in sympathy. "Do they still bother you?"

"Yes. It all does, and it's making planning the wedding really hard…"

"Are you scared your scars will show through your dress?"

"Partially…and…"

"And…"

"I haven't really liked any dresses that I've seen so far, and I'm scared I won't be able to pick one."

"What do you not like about them?"

Pacifica chewed on her lip for a minute before answering.

"They're white."

"White?"

"I don't like white, I…" Pacifica began rocking back and forth on her heels. "I just…it's because…"

"So don't wear white."

Pacifica blinked in surprise. "What?"

"If you don't want to wear white, then don't wear white."

"Isn't that what you're supposed to wear on your wedding day, though? I'm supposed to be a bride, I need-"

"You're getting married. You're going to be a bride not matter what you wear. And while you are 'supposed' to wear white, well…I hate to tell you this but you're about to become a Pines, we don't follow the rules very well."

Pacifica chuckled.

"As for your scars, you know I think you are beautiful. Every part of you. But if it's really bothering you we can try and do something."

"Like what?"

"There are such things as scar removal surgery-"

"I don't think I want to do that."

"Oh?" It was Dipper's time to be surprised.

"I don't want to forget what I've been through. But I don't want it to ruin my wedding day either…Or my life."

"They won't," Dipper rubbed her back, gently. "And that makes sense."

"Thanks for understanding."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know…a few days ago I was looking at…"

"At what?"

"This story about self-harm victims covering their scars with tattoos."

"You want to get a tattoo?" Dipper asked in a very loud, surprised voice.

"Is that bad? Do you not want me to?" Pacifica asked.

"I mean, I don't care, but I didn't pin you as a tattoo type person."

"I didn't pin myself as a tattoo person either, but, I am thinking about it," Pacifica rubbed the back of her neck.

"If that's really what you want to do than I'll go with you to the studio and hold your hand through it, I just want you to be sure beyond sure that's what you want."

Pacifica nodded. All of this she was talking and thinking about was very out of the box and counter cultural. Until 10 months ago she had never done anything of that sort. Then she ran away from home to escape an unwanted marriage and to hunt the paranormal. Sure, that was a huge jump, so what she was going through now should not have been that big, but still she was nervous and unsure.

"As for the wedding dress…" dipper pulled out his phone and began typing on it. "…eight colors you can wear other than white on your wedding day: Light Golden, Pale Blue, Champagne, Blush-"

"Blush? So, light pink?"

"Yeah, you like that?" Dipper asked.

Pacifica rocked on her heals and grinned. "Yeah…pink's kind of my favorite color. Would you be okay with me wearing something like that for the wedding?"

"Are you okay with it? You're the one wearing it, not me."

Pacifica chuckled and nodded.

"Well, alright then. Go get yourself a pink dress. Heck, get a pink pants suit. As long as you show up the day of wearing something, I don't care."

Pacifica chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll be there."

"You better be."

Pacifica laughed once more, and hugged him. "Thanks, love."

"Of course."

Pacifica lay in her bed. She was doodling on her arms with markers. She googled feminine tattoos, and then sketched a small element of it on her arm to see if she'd like it. While several of them were pretty, none of them really stuck out to her as something she would want permanently.

Finally she came across one that was of an anchor wrapped in cherry blossoms. She'd already tried one anchor, and was not impressed. So she tried the cherry blossoms. To her surprise, the pink flowers actually looked quite pretty against her pale skin. Thinking for a bit, she tried to draw one around a mole on her arm to see how the design would look with a scar at the center. It still looked pretty. Simple. Elegant. And pink, her favorite. So far so good.

Pacifica stood up and looked at her back. That would work on most of the scars, but there was a large cluster on mid-left side of her back that would take something bigger to cover it up. Pondering for a bit, she began looking through other images looking for ideas.

Cherry blossoms were kind of appropriate considering the last place she saw her parents walking free was Japan…maybe that's where she should start looking.

Pacifica gazed at the artwork all over the walls in the tattoo parlor. There were a lot of the stereotypical skulls and crossbones. But there were also hearts and flowers and butterflies. She fiddled with her thumbs nervously. Yes, she was sure she wanted this. A way to celebrate her survival without having to stare at the damage her parents had left everday. But she was still nervous.

"Pines?" and artist called.

Dipper gripped her hand supportively as he helped her to her feet. "Alright, let's go."

They both went behind the curtain into the studio.

"Hi, guys," A young woman with black hair and two complete tattooed sleeves greeted them. "Are we both getting tattooed or just one?"

"Just me," Pacifica said.

"Okay, what are we getting?"

"A large back tattoo to cover up my scars."

The tattoo artist's eyes flickered in sympathy. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Pacifica nodded.

"What kind of scars are we talking about? If you don't mind my asking?"

"Cigar burn scars," she sighed shakily. "My parents were abusive smokers and would put their cigars out on my back for punishment."

Her bottom lip trembled a bit as she tried to hold it in.

"Oh, honey, c'mere," the artist pulled her in a hug. Pacifica returned it, grateful for the comfort.

"We'll get you taken care of," she assured her. "What kind of tattoo do you want?"

"Something like this?" Pacifica held out a piece of paper. "But a little more…well…better. I'm not an artist."

"It's okay, I got you girl. Go ahead, lie down, and I'll take care of you."

Pacifica pulled the back of her shirt up and lied stomach down on the chair. Dipper sat on a stool in front of her and held her hand as the artist went to work. Pacifica cringed at first, it felt like a very bed scratch, but after a little while she got used to it.

"Where are the scumbags, if you don't mind me asking?" the artist asked.

"Jail."

"Jail? Good! And who is this handsome man here with you?"

"My fiancé."

"Look at you. Going on and having a good life! You a survivor girl!"

"Thank you," Pacifica smiled.

The process continued for several hours until the artist's work was done. Pacifica examined herself in the mirror to admire her newly acquired artwork. A phoenix covered the large cluster of scars in the middle of her back. A cherry blossom tree with flowers and petals floating over her back. In the swirl of the phoenix tail were the Japanese symbols for perseverance and strength.

"What do you think, fiancé," the artist asked.

Dipper smiled as he looked at the tattoo. "Wow."

Pacifica beamed as she examined her new back. It just occurred to her that Dipper had been looking at her for the past few hours when she had nothing but a sports bra on above her waist. And she wasn't nervous or embarrassed about it. She beamed again. Her new beginning was looking bright.