Dipper pines

The clearing in the deepest depths of the forest seemed dead, but it was here that the true, worm-eaten heart of this place beat. A perfect, almost tangible silence always reigned on the dry grass, scorched by underground toxins. In the very center of this silence grew an ancient, blackened tree, its branches bearing dense, glossy fruits filled with a thick, neon-purple sap.

In the ordinary world, beyond this thicket, the entire Pines family and their system flawlessly put on the show of an ideal, loving, and friendly social unit. No one around them even suspected the cold-blooded, cynical monsters lurking behind the facade of their home.

But here, by the tree, Dipper completely shed his "good boy" facade. His movements by the black trunk were lazy, devoid of any fuss. Each deliberate bite into the thick skin brought a fleeting flash of pure, concentrated bitterness. Purple juice, like dark ink, lazily flowed down his pale lips, stained his chin, and left trails down his neck, seeping under the fabric of his clothes. The plant neurotoxin had long since become his daily stimulant. The poison burned away any vestiges of human doubt, allowing Dipper to conceive new sinister schemes for his family with icy calm. Due to constant consumption of the fruit, the veins on his wrists and neck had irreversibly darkened, turning a deep purple. Moreover, the poison began to seep higher up: darkened vessels began to appear under the thin skin on his cheek, forming eerie, sharp, and defined patterns, diverging in broken lines from his cheekbone to his temple.

Somewhere deep within this forest, hidden by alien dimensions and invisible to mere mortals, dwelt Bill Cipher—an ancient, alien, powerful demon whose presence was only dimly sensed in the distortions of space. He remained a complete stranger to the Pines family, a distant being, silently hovering above the mysteries of this place and completely separate from their criminal empire.