#hsr gopher wood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atlas-likes-writing · 4 months

Text

June of Doom Day Four: Punishment

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Character(s): Sunday, Gopher Wood/Penacony's Dreammaster, Robin.

Summary: After the events at Clock Studio Park, the entirety of Penacony is thrown into chaos. The Dreammaster is demanding answers; answers that Sunday does not have.

Word count: 1,536

Tags: Angst, whump (technically), abuse, physical abuse, threats, violence, manipulation, emotional manipulation.

Author's Note: I'm actually super proud of this one. Just as a note: the term "Master" is used but it is not in a NSFW context, don't worry. Also, is this just me projecting my hatred of Gopher Wood? Yes. Do I care? No.

@juneofdoom

Masterlist | Day Three

“Sunday.”

The Halovian’s head snaps up from where he kneels at the feet of Gopher Wood: the current Dreammaster of Penacony. He was summoned by the figurehead earlier that night after Aventurine’s little tantrum. The giant crimson gash in Dreamscape sky formed by that Self-Annihilator is still fresh and weeping at Clock Studio’s Park, and it is Sunday’s fault for letting it happen. Or that is at least how Wood sees it.

“Yes, Master?” The compliment is familiar on his tongue and sickeningly so. He forces himself to hold eye contact with the man above him as he lounges about on his now imposing chair.

This is not the first time.

“What happened tonight?” It is phrased like a statement, not a question – but Sunday answers anyway with practiced eloquence.

“An Emanator of Nihility snuck into Penacony posing as a Galaxy Ranger, and the IPC ambassador – Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts – took her in battle and lost.” The script he has ran through in his head is simple and succinct, just as the man above him prefers.

“Unsurprising, but I am not asking you to tell me things I already know, Sunday,” Wood states plainly, lifting his hand and checking over the fabric of his gloves as if bored with the Oak Family head. Sunday’s eyes remain trained on the Dreammaster’s but it is an actual that remains unrequited.

“I’m unsure of what you mean, Sir,” Sunday lies.

“You know exactly what I mean, child.”

He hates being called that. It is demeaning and implies inferiority. He supposes in this situation that he is inferior to Gopher Wood, but that doesn’t interfere with his distaste for the term. Not that he would ever be courageous enough to demand better treatment. Sunday knew what he was signing up for when he was a child, and he intends to follow that through.

(He, in truth, had no idea. He was manipulated and groomed.)

This is for Robin’s sake.

That is the thought process he has now and is the exact same as the one he had during one of his first interactions with Gopher Wood when he was only that: Gopher Wood. He expects that it will be the same thought process he has for the rest of his life and beyond.

“Do not make me ask you again.” Gopher decides to look at him now, the image of grace and neutrality.

Sunday fights the urge to swallow the lump forming in his throat and instead attempts to mirror him.

“Apologies, Master,” Sunday begins. “I’m not sure what you me-”

A harsh slap sounds out in the large room, and it echoes nauseatingly back to Sunday’s ears as his head is whipped to the side. His cheek stings, but he doesn’t dare reach to his own face to soothe it.

This is not the first time.

Wood’s façade cracks slightly, showing visible anger and distaste before it reverts to its statue-like nature.

Gopher sighs, voice clearly showing restraint. “You’re making me repeat myself. I hate repeating myself. I thought you would have learned this by now.” Sunday recognises that tone of voice and he can’t stop himself from freezing up.

“You know what must happen now.”

This is not the first time.

Sunday nods. Slowly.

“Yes, Master.”

“Get up,” the Dreammaster commands. Sunday does so immediately, lifting himself up from the ground and standing resolutely in front of him; the image of elegance. One hand rests at his lower back, the other on his stomach as he watches the man in front of him. Gopher remains where he is, moving his hand to press a button that Sunday knows is connected to a microphone. He leans in and begins to speak.

“Robin, dear? Can you come in?” he asks, voice melodious and full of pleasant timbre. It is a voice that Sunday hasn’t heard in a long time.

What? No. This isn’t what they agreed upon. Sunday would take the brunt of Wood’s torment to protect Robin from harm. This is not what they agreed on all those years ago.

“Master? What are you doing? You can’t hurt Robin. You promi-”

Gopher cuts him off again. “Silence.” The younger Halovian immediately closes his mouth. “Do not speak again for your sister’s sake.”

The Oak Family head itches to say something. To go over to that wretched man and destroy him from the inside-out with Xipe’s blessing. To rip those glasses off his face, shatter the lenses, and stab them into his vocal cords so that he may never speak to him or Robin ever again.

He doesn’t do that, though. The consequences are much too dire. His fingers twitch in apprehension and Gopher shoots him a quick glare over the tops of his glasses as a result. He stops, and the door behind him opens to his sister’s kind voice.

“Mr. Gopher Wood? You wanted to see me?” Robin asks, the smile she carries everywhere evident in the way she speaks.

The Dreammaster smiles, and Sunday wants to rip it off his face. “Robin, my dear! Come here, will you? I have a present.” Robin does so gracefully, silvery hair cascading beautifully behind her as she walks in front of Sunday to stand dutifully before Wood. He stands and unhooks the chains connected to his glasses’ frames, taking them off. He folds them up neatly and hands them to the woman. “Keep a hold of these for me, okay? They’re giving me an awful headache and I don’t trust myself to put them down and not lose them,” he laughs. “Oh, and these too. You know how I am with losing things.” Gopher then proceeds to tug at the fingers of his pristine white gloves and takes them off, folding them just as neatly and placing them gently into the outstretched palms of the youngest of the two siblings. He reaches up with bare hands and closes Robin’s fist around the objects and smiles again, eyes warm. Sunday remains frozen where he stands, feet rooted to the elaborate tile flooring.

Robin poorly conceals the confusion in her face and shoots a quick glance at her brother, who attempts to mimic the Dreammaster’s cheery smile. Always full of that childish innocence, Robin eventually returns the smile and turns and curtsies to Gopher Wood, who chuckles and quietly gestures the door in an act of dismissal. The woman understands and twists again to leave.

It happens so fast that Sunday almost misses it. The Dreammaster lunges at Robin and grabs her. Is he going to kill her? He can’t. Sunday would kill him if he did that. The young man steps forward slightly, ready to protect his sister, only to be halted by a withering glare from Gopher Wood and the sight of what is happening in front of him.

He’s hugging her.

Robin freezes up, clearly taken off guard. Her face is concealed by Wood’s arms, so Sunday can’t see her expression, but he imagines it’s one of shock. An expression that probably mirrors Sunday’s own. Much to his horror, Robin eventually returns the hug, wrapping her arms around the man in front of her. They stay like that for a while and Sunday grows more and more antsy with every passing minute. Finally, he lets go, and gently grips Robin by the shoulder and tilts his body down so his eyeline matches hers.

“You are like the daughter I never had. You know that, right?” he states, before gesturing to where Sunday stands statuesque. “Just as your brother is like a son to me.” At Robin’s nod, Gopher chuckles and ruffles her hair playfully. It seems mundane, but there’s an ominous undertone that only Robin doesn’t detect. She giggles and turns to leave a second time, smiling graciously to Sunday as she passes. The door eventually clicks shut behind him, and Gopher’s kind, fatherly persona falls in record time, replaced by his original rageful neutrality.

“I will never hurt your sister, Sunday,” he begins. “As long as you do as I say. That was our agreement, yes?” The Oak Family head nods, fear now evident in his face. “Good. That will change if you continue to act out of line. Do you understand me?”

Sunday nods again and Gopher storms over to him, pissed. The younger man steps back out of instinct. The Dreammaster raises an arm and punches Sunday across the jaw, causing the man to stumble and fall over backwards. Out of fear, he doesn’t move from there, only putting his hands below his body to support himself as he looks up at Gopher as he towers above him. The older man crouches down to Sunday’s level and grabs him harshly by his now sore jaw. He pulls him towards him, his face now inches away from Sunday’s as he stares him down.

“Use your words, child. Do you understand me?” he repeats.

With his voice muffled, Sunday lets out a weak “Yes,” and Gopher throws him back onto the ground. He stands back up to his full height and gazes down at him, lips now curling into a sneer.

“Your dedication to your sister’s wellbeing is admirable, Sunday. Let’s see how deep that dedication runs.”