Featuring Dipper as a werewolf and Mabel as a witch. When he was twelve, Dipper ran away after getting bitten to go find help to control the “beast within”. When he comes back many things have changed, including his sister.
There’s a full fic you can read here (that link also leads to the blog itself!) and just general information here.
Big Dipper AU
Dipper (age 15) and his sister Mabel (age 12) are spending their third year in Gravity Falls with their Grunkle Stan when they stumble upon a weird journal in the woods. They always knew this town was weird but now, armed with knowledge they never had before, they set out on adventures to discover the mysteries.
Mabel and Dipper’s parents die in a car crash when they’re six and are sent to go live with their Grunkle Stan.
That tag can be found here! (Please note that the tag for this au is orphaned twin au, not orphaned twins. That will take you someplace else!)
Sword and Shield AU
Gravity Falls but in the late Middle Ages. Dipper is an apothecary apprentice, Mabel is working on becoming one of the few female artists (while also standing in for her brother during knightly tournaments), Grunkle Stan is a conman, and Ford is on the run from the church bunted by Bill Cipher, the Egyptian God Set who has come to bring disease, plague, and destruction to Europe.
Because I’m a sucker for sibling relationships, and everyone draws the rev!twins as sixteen anyway, this is an au where the Reverse!Twins (now named Nereida and Orion) are the sixteen year old siblings of Dipper and Mabel. The other Rev! characters make an appearance including Rev!Pacifica as Atlantica Southeast and Rev!Gideon as a projection of future Gideon trying to warn the twins of Weirdmageddon.
La vida es un suspiro, o un viento, o una quietud o una tormenta. Tiene el color que elijas, y el sentido que le des. Tiene los protagonistas que desees y los sueños con los que quieras adornarla. Es esa interminable lección, esa búsqueda contínua, ese caminar incesante. Cuando la muerte pasa sigilosa por donde estamos, la vida nos sacude y ordena las prioridades y nos acerca a lo importante. Lo intangible, lo eterno. Nos impulsa a la urgencia del te quiero, del beso, de la cercanía. Para que otros sepan y tengan en su memoria un poco de nosotros, para recordarle que son regalo, que viven en nuestros adentros. La vida es una poesía, una gran puerta, un océano. No espera, no se detiene por nadie. Sólo sucede con la intensidad que quieras, con la felicidad que busques, con las lecciones que aprendiste. Tiene lo que hayas dado, lo que sembraste, bueno o malo. Tiene las consecuencias de tus decisiones y la libertad de tus perdones. Por eso, no te tardes en vivir, que la vida es lo que elijas, lo que des, hoy, ahora… este momento.
____ M. Sierra Villanueva
En homenaje a una querida mujer que ayer falleció y tuve el placer de conocer. Ella de 30 años de edad luchaba por un trasplante de hígado y cuando lo obtuvo su cuerpo lo rechazó. Nunca la vi quejarse, siempre la noté optimista. Luz Nereida, su nombre lo dice todo. Era luz, era sonrisa, era de esas personas que te da alegría conocer. Siempre la recordaré como esa persona que dio simpatía, amabilidad y sonrisa. Hoy físicamente no está, para mí vivirá siempre en cada sonrisa que me regaló y el entusiasmo con el que se aferraba a la vida, pese a todo. Descansa en paz. :(
Bourbon burned a path of scorching heat down his throat, kindling a temporary comfort deep in his belly as Rick took another drawn-out sip of Evan Williams whiskey. The bar he had chosen tonight was not his usual, but he had noticed it numerous times here, just outside of Atlanta on the bustling outskirts of the big city, on his route homeward and tonight was the night he decided to venture in. It was flashier than he was used to but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to run into anyone he knew and he figured it was the perfect spot to turn his brain off for a bit. The events of his day weighed heavy on his mind and the whiskey and bass-thumping music quieted his screaming thoughts for a fleeting moment.
“Hit me again,” he called to the short, wiry haired bartender, downing the last of his drink and slamming the glass down on the counter.
“Hey now, take it easy, Officer Friendly,” the bartender said, batting her dark eyelashes, filling his glass again. “This is the last one, okay? How are you getting home?” Rick rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath, his drunkenness making him brazen. He took off his sheriff’s hat and set it down.
“I’ll be just fine.” She was clearly flirting. He wasn’t interested. His luck with women had been awful as of late and he didn’t even want to bothered with flirting back. His ex-girlfriend and ex-wife were constantly blowing up his phone with desperate texts and phone calls and he wanted nothing to do with either of them. Women in general right now were not on his mind. He glanced at his watch as he twirled his glass. 11:21 pm. Luckily, it was a Friday night and tomorrow was a much-needed day off. He planned to sleep in and laze about for the remainder of the weekend. Maybe he would go fishing as well.
He’d shot a kid today.
Not necessarily a child, per say, but a nineteen year old young man, for threatening his girlfriend at gunpoint. Rick’s partner nearly died during the confrontation, taking a bullet to the leg and losing a great deal of blood. They’d tried to give him a chance, not wanting to end his life, but once he fired that bullet, Rick had no choice but to put him down before anyone else was harmed. Rick regretted his decision the very second he pulled the trigger, his six-inch Colt Python smoking as he watched the young man fall to the ground, his girlfriend screaming.
The young man was in the hospital in critical condition and the doctors didn’t know if he would live. And after routine questioning at the station, Rick went to visit him, out of pity, or guilt, or something else; he didn’t know. He drove all the way into Atlanta instead of heading home for some much needed rest as the July sun set and he ended the sweltering day staring down at the man’s motionless body, only feeling worse by the time he left the quiet hospital room.
Rick visited his partner Shane as well after being notified that he was in the same hospital. Shane was jovial and witty as usual and Rick felt only a slight consolation knowing his friend would be alright. The man was like a brother to him, despite the fact that Shane was with Rick’s ex wife now. Rick didn’t mind much; he was glad to be rid of her, though she called him often to nag.
The family of the young man he’d shot were already pressing charges, and the father had delivered what felt like a well-deserved punch to Rick’s face as he left the hospital, the mother screaming and sobbing, pointing at him and shouting obscenities as Rick retreated to his squad car and took off in search of solace, the image of his victim’s head being thrown back by his .357 round flashing into his mind’s eye repeatedly.
Rick mentally shook his head, ridding himself of the thoughts again. The bourbon wasn’t helping and he gritted his teeth in frustration, slamming his glass down so roughly that it shattered into pieces, startling him.
“I’m sorry,” he drawled, grabbing his hat, looking from the bartender to the pile of glass shards and ice in a pool of boubon and back again. He retrieved a one hundred dollar bill from his dark leather wallet, throwing it down on the counter as a tip and an apology. He stood to leave, seeing the bartenders lips move as he turned away, not hearing a word. He licked his lips, making his way down the bar and into the crowd of dancing people, feeling claustrophobic as he put his sheriff’s hat back on.
A new song started. It began soft and catchy, the beat quickly becoming more rhythmic, the bass making his head throb as he inadvertently made it to the edge of the crowd of people around the center of the dancefloor. His drunkenness had disoriented him and he’d gone the wrong way. He surely did not want to dance, looking around in search of an exit.
In his hunt for an escape, he noticed a woman dancing beneath the strobbing, technicolor lights, the center of attention, a smile on her face. Her friend tried to pull her away but she swatted at her playfully, freeing herself from her grasp, twirling back to the expanse of black flooring to dance. Everyone was watching, but as she turned, her long arms over her head, her hips circling, her eyes met Rick’s. Her dark gaze warmed him more than the bourbon settling in his stomach and he blinked twice as he listened to the pounding bass and lyrics of the song in all their irony.
Baby, this is what you came for
Lightning strikes every time she moves
And everybody’s watching her
But she’s looking at you, you, you
Rick had never seen a woman like her in all his forty years on this miserable earth. Her dark skin gleamed beneath the flashing lights, her slender body and long, deadlocked hair undulating to the thumping rhythm of the music. Her locs were accentuated with beads and they rained down the exposed skin of her sleek back. She wore a tight sleeveless orange top, cropped to showcase her flat, toned stomach, and the color popped against her chocolate skin. Her arms were adorned with golden bracelets, accenting her complexion. Her belly button peeked from behind the top of a dark cocoa leather miniskirt that encased long, flawless legs. She wore matching dark pumps, her feet moving as she danced. All eyes were on her and she payed no one any mind.
No one except Rick.
Baby, this is what you came for
Lightning strikes every time she moves
And everybody’s watching her
But she’s looking at you, oh, oh
She approached him in rhythm with the music, still dancing, twirling, a smile on her lips and Rick was frozen, positive that he was dreaming, that the liquor had caused him to blackout and he was drooling on the floor in a drunken stupor, dreaming of some fantasy goddess he could never have. She was in front of him at last and his heart was pounding in his chest as she reached out, her long fingers grabbing his shirt and pulling him as she walked backwards in rhythm with the music, his shirt stretched as she dragged him onto the dance floor. He took the opportunity to drink in her features, hitching a breath as he took in her stunning face. Her deep, dark brown eyes looked black and they shimmered with amusemeng in the artificial light, a thin layer of mascara elongating her lashes.
“Uh, miss? I’m not- I don’t dance much,” he stammered, stumbling clumsily, following blindly behind her, powerless and nearly stupified, looking down as she let go of his shirt and turned away and he caught sight of the plumpest, most flawless ass he’d ever seen. She made it back to the center, turning to face him. Her nose scrunched as she laughed, peering up at him and taking his breath away. She had the plumpest, most kissable lips and Rick nibbled the inside of his cheek at the lustful thoughts that swarmed him. A gold necklace with a pendant ’M’ lay beneath her neck and it caught the lights, winking at him. She leaned towards him, her mouth pressed to his ear and she whispered:
“Dance with me.” Her voice was honeyed and tempting and Rick couldn’t even contemplate refusing her, her words sending a shiver down his spine. She started to sway, her hips working magic against him and Rick joined her, his hands on her waist, his fingers digging into her. She smelled like coconuts and buttery sweetness and his mouth watered as she turned and pressed herself against his crotch, hips circling, her perfect ass digging into him, her hair against his face.
She reached up….
(there is far too much left for me to add to the post; you can read the rest here)
feedback is welcome and very much appreciated. much love and please enjoy, nereida♡