Sheriff Blubs and Durland were surprisingly easy to convince to go along with letting Dipper take care of the cult – technically they should have protested, tried to do things by the book, but to be frank, they didn't have the space in the Gravity Falls jail to keep all the cultists in lock-up (it was mostly just a holding tank for folk to sleep off too much drink, anyway) and taking them in to a bigger city for trial would be...a problem.
It was just...more efficient to let the Pines handle it, that was all. Had nothing to do with wanting to get even or all the supernatural creatures wanting it even more and getting antsy about it (and nothing to do with not trusting a human court to help them, to maybe care about the fact that the humans had been attacked but not care that they'd been hurt and killed, that they'd all seen how little some courts counted their lives for. Of course not.) Nothing at all.
The Flock, which had been scattered around the square being petted and made much of by near everyone (and terrorizing the caged cultists), turned in near silent unison to watch their master when he drifted away from the family and, alone, started across the square.
The background chatter in the square began to die off as Dipper floated toward the cages holding Anthony and Gideon, claws held ready at his sides and power sparking along his fingers, stopping mid conversation as heads turned to watch, leaving silence in Dipper's wake, like ripples in water.
He flared his wings as he came to a stop, grin spreading wider than a human was capable of, unable to resist the bit of showmanship when all eyes were on them.
Anthony glared at him with gritted teeth while Gideon fumed in rage, face red and shaking with fury, and Dipper's grin grew wider yet. "Li̛sten͜ ́cļơse̕ly ," he said, and even though he said it quietly, the square was quiet enough it was like a shout. "Yoù an̨d ̢I͜ bot͏h͢ ̢kno͝w͢ ̕y͏ou don'͞t thin̷k͠ ͢y҉o͠u ͢d͠id a̴nyt͠hi̕ng ҉w͢ron̸g.̴ A̡n̢d̷ ther͏e̷'͡s ͜n͢oth̶in̛g Į ͟or a̸nyo̶ne ̕he͏re͞ ͟can do̢ ͜th̡at wi̵ĺl m̴a͏k͜e ̡yo͞u̸ ̷undęrsta̡n̸d. So͘ ͘I'm̴ ͝n̴ot̡ ҉t ̶e̷v̡en͠ g̨oin҉g ̢t̢o ͞try͟."
Anthony snarled again, and Dipper gave a little nod to Teena, who hovered above the cages. She returned the nod, and all three felt the spell keeping Anthony silent lift.
Not Gideon yet, though. He was still too red to do anything but yell and rant. They'd see if Anthony actually had anything of worth to say. Unlikely, but still.
"You've no right," he began.
"Ànd̴ ̢ýou ͡h͘a͢d ̡n̢o̧ rígh͡t͟ ̷to a͏́t̕͘t̀ąc̀͘͞ķ̵͘ ͢͝o̶̷̡u̷̡r̡ h̡̨͘҉ó͢m̸̨ȩ̷!" Dipper roared, voice cutting across the sudden uprising of outraged voices, demonic and inhuman. Anthony paled, stepping back the half pace his cage allowed but trying to stand his ground, failing as he gripped at the bars behind him.
Apparently, demonic fury (and a close up of double rows of very, very sharp teeth) was actually a bit different when you were the one in the cage while the demon, and its family, were free.
Then Anthony rallied, and secretly Dipper was a little impressed. Irritated, furious, and wondering why he was bothering, but the tiniest bit impressed.
"We have every right," he snapped. "This world belongs to us, and we're the only ones willing to take it back! You've poisoned..."
"We͢'ve̴ poi҉s̴on̢ed n͏ot͜ḩi̧ng! ͡It͢'͞s p̶e̸op̡l̕e̴ l̷ik̨e̵ ̀y͡o͡u thàt d̕estro͟y̨ ͜e̷v́e͝ryt͟hi͞ng you t̸o̡uc͜h!̕ " Dipper snarled. He drew back and took a deep breath, almost visibly trying to calm himself. He felt like a bit of porcelain, ready to shatter, and he couldn't. Especially not after near breaking last night, and doubly so in front of these people. Later, later when it was just his family, but for now...
He would not give them the satisfaction.
Anthony was trying to speak again but no sound was coming out, and a glance at Teena's face said why. Just as well, much more out of him and someone was going to snap, and Dipper wasn't sure it would be him that reached them first, and what he had planned was going to last much longer than if he just snapped.
Snarling, Dipper gestured at the two in front of him and the other cultists, a quick, sweeping motion with a snap at the end, and at the sharp click of fingers they all cried out in pain and anger, hands flying up to grasp at faces as searing, fiery pain scorched them.
When hands were finally lowered, each face bore a brand, seared into the skin above each left eye, a brand that glowed blue for a few seconds more as the magic settled into skin and bone and soul, a brand in the shape of Dipper's mark – the winged star with a smaller, upside down star hovering below between its curved wings.
Dipper's grin was all teeth and utterly inhuman. "I'm a dream demon," he said, dropping nearly all of the reverb so he'd be sure they understood every word of what he'd just done to them, each word clear and prescise. "And for the rest of your lives, you will remember this day each time you close your eyes. You will never sleep again without the most brutal of nightmares, and there will never be a reprieve. No dream catcher, no charm or spell will grant you dreamless sleep again. And don't think you can get away from it by killing yourselves," he added warningly. "You'll live until you die of natural causes, and each time you try to take your life, or someone else does, you'll fail and have to live with the pain of your attempt for the rest of your very, very long lives."
"As for you two," he said, leaning closer to the pale Anthony and Gideon, moving too fast for the mortal eye to follow and pressing a quick finger against their brands, making them stagger away in pain as it flared with blue fire, "you also have this: for the rest of your lives, no one will ever again believe a singl̡e̕ w̸̕o͏̨r҉d͢ that you say. Lie, truth, it doesn't matter. Mocked and scorned, you will be driven from every place you go. Try getting anyone to follow you now, let alone listen to you," he finished viciously, adding louder, "You tried to take our sanctuary, and now, none of you will ever have one."
Dipper's grin was savage as the blood drained from Gideon and Anthony's faces, watching them understand just what he'd cursed them with. Neither had believed they could lose, but it was clear to Dipper through the violent colors in Anthony's aura that he'd believed that at worst they'd die as martyrs to the cause, inspiring others to follow in his footsteps and continue his crusade.
Gideon, at least, had believed he'd be able to fight or talk his way out of this, never believed he'd get anything worse than more jail should everything impossibly go sour.
Dipper floated a little closer to the cage holding Gideon, and this time, his voice was pitched so only Gideon could hear him. "You are never going to threaten my family again," he said, cold and soft. "You think I'm letting you off easy, but I want you to remember this every time you're driven from a new town, each time someone looks at you with scorn, every night you wake screaming I want you to remember what you did today. And know that there isn't anyone more powerful than I am to take this from you, even if they believed you when you tell them that you were cursed. I want you to remember how you thought I let you off easy when you realize just what I've cursed you to."
The fury in Gideon's eyes was far, far more satisfying than just ripping him apart would have been, tempting as the thought had been all the previous day and night.
"And if any of you try to help them," Dipper added, almost as an afterthought, raising his voice so the rest of the Alliance could hear him, "then you'll wish you hadn't. Remember, I'll be watching," he said in a near sing-song, tapping the spot above his left eye that mirrored the stars branded on them, and hands were raised to cover the brands as his words sunk in, each star a spot Alcor could watch them through, one they'd never be free of. "Don't bother to try covering them up, either. It won't work," he added smugly, before floating away from the cages a few steps.
He tipped his ever floating hat to the Grand-Anti Transcendence Alliance with a smirk as around them, the whispers started.
The square started buzzing as soon as Dipper was finished as those close enough to hear Dipper pass his curse on the cultists – and the extra curse on their leaders – passed the word to those who hadn't been at the back of the crowd.
The Flock began to bleat quietly among themselves, seemingly taken aback by the lack of blood and souls and pain, before apparently coming to some sort of agreement and scattering among the crowds again, save the few who came near the cages to stare at the cultists (and they may have begun terrorizing the cultists. Just a little. Because they could.).
(And because no one hurt their Master.)
The noise level in the square grew steadily as the residents and outsiders alike debated Dipper's chosen punishment. It was different, certainly, and there were some who would have rather seen him do something more visible than a brand and a lifetime of night terrors, while more pointed out the justice in it, to take away their safety after hurting everyone here.
As the town talked, Dipper drifted backwards until he felt Mabel's hand slip into his. There really wasn't anything that the rest of the town could do – the prison simply wasn't big enough for all the members of the Anti-Transcendence Alliance. And with the way the world still was...no, they didn't want to involve out of town law.
Not when it was unlikely they'd get justice from outsiders.
Henry's arms came around both their waists from behind, tugging them close. Their hands unlinked just long enough to reach for each other around his back, falling into a familiar and comforting embrace as they watched everyone else from the edge of the town square.
Hank squeezed his uncle's arm gently as he passed by, wanting to stay with them but knowing the Dinner Crew needed him as people began to slowly to approve of Dipper's curse and to look towards the food tables they'd been setting up before the Pines and Ramirez families arrived. Much as he didn't like being in charge, he was suited to it, and the townsfolk listened as he went and started talking to them.
The rest of the town started to mingle at that point, talking to the outsiders, comparing battle stories and laughing or crying as they split into pairs and groups. The Ramirez family was in the midst of it all in seconds, giving the Pines trio little pats and words of affection as they split off into the crowds, working the very human and mundane magic they'd inherited from both parents.
Hank and his sisters waded in after them, Hank taking control of his mafia to help talk to people, more used as they were to violence than some of the town, and to help with the food (something else they were quite good at at this point, with their weekly meetings revolving around it) while Acacia and Willow went to start cheering on the Corduroys and their renewed axe work while Stan sat on a chair near Gideon's cage with Abuelita, the older pair patting the sheep that had come to beg for attention and laughing at Gideon and Anthony.
The cultists were otherwise left alone for the moment, groaning or crying or swearing, save for the wary eye some of the older or more experienced kept on them and the Flock that randomly terrorized them gleefully.
Later, Dipper will have to go and thank the ones who came to help himself. Not quite a debt, but something that needed acknowledgment, even if the part of him that was still demon snarled in displeasure at the thought of doing so. It was a demon thought, the snarl of you're more powerful then they could ever be, they should be grateful to serve you and Dipper hated the thought.
It didn't matter. They'd come, and they'd fought for his home, his people, to prevent the Alliance from destroying everything in their mad quest to undo the Transcendence, even he wasn't quite sure why. For that, his thanks were the very least they deserved, and they would have them.
For now, though, he was just going to float, holding on to Henry and Mabel, exhausted still, watching his family as they talked and ate and laughed and watching their town rebuild.
Out in front of them, the Corduroys had finished chopping, and with their shouted encouragement egging her on Willow set the bonfire made of platform and cross alight, the fires glowing blue until the rest of the wood caught and flared high, the flames still tinged blue, as the townfolk cheered.
It brought the first real smile to Dipper's face of the last forty eight hours. Despite the Alliance trying to break them, his town was going to be fine – and even more enthusiastic about the supernatural than before.
Then someone broke out the marshmallows and Mabel laughed as she yanked husband and brother towards the flames that reached toward the sky, laughter and friends and family more purifying than anything the Alliance could ever understand.
And we've hit the end of The Scouring! It's been quite the ride, and I'm glad for those of who came along with me. Hope everyone enjoyed the ride! :)
I'm working on a sequel, but thanks to personal current events I'm not sure when it'll be finished.