#cervitaur!dipper

FORDUARY WEEK 3: AU

Figured this’d be a good opportunity to redraw my Monster Falls designs so I could post them here! Also thought it would be kinda funny to use Week 3 - which has the alt theme of ‘hands’ - for an AU in which Ford technically doesn’t have proper hands.

Also hey, I finally figured out how to do the Keep Reading thing, so full individual pics and design ramblings will be under the cut ^^ I am slowly but surely figuring out how to function on this site :P

I mixed the twins into one I think they look rather cool, and I’m dubbing them Masel Pines, a hypocampus (or, cervocampus? idk fam, I didn’t study latin, or their sufixes (much))

Here it is. Later than I said it would be, but I finally finished this chapter. Hope you enjoy it. :) 

Bill decided that, as far as meat sacks went, vampires were actually a step down from humans. Living human flesh felt so many things, from barely noticeable air pressure to the exquisite agony that came with piercing said flesh with a multitude of sharp objects, or breaking bones and tearing at the insides.

Vampires, on the other hand, barely had any pain receptors in their undead meat. He had discovered this when he had experimentally snapped all the fingers in Gideon’s left hand. There was, disappointingly, little pain. Gideon’s reaction, however, had been priceless.

Gideon’s disembodied soul was still dutifully floating after him when he had bent the pinky finger back until it broke, and the kid had cringed so violently, he sent himself spinning backward end over end. “What are you… did you just break my finger?”

“Sure did!” Bill said, and looked Gideon right in the eye as he grinned and snapped the ring finger at the mid-knuckle joint.

It was difficult for a spirit to look like he was ready to puke, but somehow Gideon managed it. “Could you please… not do that?” he asked weakly.

Bill responded by snapping the fingertip bone of the middle finger. “No wonder you made such a lousy vampire, kid! This doesn’t even really hurt! Not to mention, this will heal up in no time! How do you expect to live forever if a little thing like this makes you lose your nerve?”

And there it was again. That brief, guilty look on Gideon’s face that spoke of treachery. A look that said he had no desire whatsoever to reclaim his undead meat sack.

I did Dipper

Ain’t No Cure for the Cervitaur Blues A Gravity Falls Fanfic by Krista Perry I own nothing.

Chapter Ten In Which Dipper Tries to Adjust, the Pines Parents Try Not to Freak Out, Ford Has Maybe 12% of a Plan, and Dipper and Mabel Try To Save the Day

Dipper ran, and the night forest filled him with every breath he took; sounds and scents and sights seeming to seep into his very skin until it was almost hard to tell where he ended and the forest began. Before tonight -- this night that had changed everything -- he would have long since stumbled to a stop, panting, sweating, doubled over with a stitch in his side, even though he had only been running a few minutes at most. Now he felt like he could run forever. Now, in this strange new body, he felt so light that his hooves barely felt the impact each time he touched ground. It was amazing, and, the longer he ran… a little terrifying as well.

Maybe more than a little.

When Mother had re-made him, he had done everything he could to hang on to his memories, to his humanity. And, much to his great relief, he had kept them both.

But there was something new and completely alien within him. Something so vast and deep and strange that it felt like it dwarfed the part of himself that he had saved – the only part he recognized as himself.

He was determined to not examine that huge, strange something too closely. In fact, he made up his mind to ignore it completely, if he could.

Ain’t No Cure for the Cervitaur Blues A Gravity Falls Fanfic by Krista Perry I own nothing.

Chapter Nine In Which Mr. and Mrs. Pines Get a Strange Assortment of Wake-up Calls

 Mrs. Amy Glinsky Pines woke from a sound sleep, feeling as though something was terribly wrong.

Amy stared at the ceiling, blinking in confusion, feeling her pulse race. There was a cold, twisting sensation in her stomach. What in the world? she wondered. She wasn't prone to having panic attacks, especially in the middle of the night while she was sleeping.

She hadn't been dreaming -- at least nothing that she could remember. Nothing that would explain the way her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at the clock on the bedside table.  It read 12:07 am.  The flat screen TV on the wall opposite the bed showed Netflix paused in the middle of an episode of Scrubs, with Are you still watching? overlaid on the still frame.

In the bed next to her, Aaron Pines shifted in his sleep. His eyes moved rapidly beneath his closed lids, because of course he was dreaming.  Her husband almost always remembered his dreams, and she loved when they were coherent enough that he could tell her about them. His dreams were usually ridiculous and good for a laugh, like the one he had a few nights ago where he dreamed that Thomas Edison was lurking outside, trying to get into the house. Aaron wouldn't let him in because he didn't want the long-dead scientist trying to take credit for any modern-day inventions. He kept yelling, “Go away! They all have patents already!" but Edison wouldn't give up, so Aaron closed all the blinds and told the kids to stay away from the windows.

The kids. Dipper and Mabel. They were finally coming home from Gravity Falls next week, and not a moment too soon, because the house was lonely and empty and too big and quiet without them, especially when Aaron was on call at the hospital. It wasn't a very far stretch of the imagination to realize that the source of the sick, cold feeling filling her gut was due to her children's lengthy absence, and she felt a bit of relief at having found the source of this strange out-of-the-blue anxiety. She took a few slow, deep breaths, forcing herself to relax the tension in her shoulders, getting her pulse back under control. The kids were fine. This was just her subconscious worries getting the best of her for a moment.

So... this mess is my first attempt at doing visual art in a loooong time.