So @nonconwhump's Wednesday post had me by the throat for a week longer than I'd like because I can't do short word counts apparently.
Word Count: 5k+
CWs: Noncon, Death threats, it/it's used for degradation, Degradation, Dehumanization, noncon drugging, Possessive behavior,
Mmmhhnn..
Brooks slowly opens his eyes, head throbbing wickedly. He flinches from the light, groaning and blinking away the stars in his vision, what...? He tries to rub the ache away but neither hand can move. Something rough digs into his wrists, keeping them tied behind his back. Glancing towards his sides has the room swirl sickeningly when he notices half dried blood on his uniform. Once the vertigo subsides, blue attempts to move but finds he's bound in a way that leaves him sitting on the floor, "Mm?-!?"
He's gagged with what feels like tape as it pulls painfully at his facial hair. What happened!?
"Excellent. You're finally awake."
Lifting his gaze it falls on the faint glow of Captain's visor, the rest of him cast in shadow from the light behind him in the doorway. Brooks glares and yanks at his binds, throwing a muffled threat the other's way. His leader carries an air of superiority as he steps into the room, "I really must thank you and #3281 for all your hard work. Never have I seen an outsider manage to make such an impact. It's almost a shame I have to kill you."
Brooks snarls and screams at him through the gag while ignoring the pain. His lack of fear draws the other closer, each step slow and methodical. Standing over the seated man the predator grabs a corner of tape and rips it free. Blue howls and curses, swallowing back tears before snapping, "What in the nine moons are you talking about!? Where's Chip?"
He watches as hands lift to either side of that glowing helmet, the latch clicking and releasing. A dangerously smug grin greets him as Captain holds it in one hand, lifting two fingers to his lips and whistling. The sharp sound has Brooks jump and hiss the question out again to only receive a laugh, "Patience, give it a minute."
Rage flares at the dismissive tone, the blue crewmate tugging on the binds. It's too tight, he can't angle his wrists in a way to break what has him caught. Uneven, heavy steps have him snap his head up and he feels like his whole soul is dunked in ice at what he sees. Chip stumbles into the doorway, head bowed and leaning heavily on the threshold. His uniform is half destroyed, a sleeve cut off at the shoulder and long slashes leaving what's left basically ribbons.
"Ch...Chip?" He couldn't help how devastated his voice sounded as he stares at his stray. What he wasn't ready for is Chip jolting and meeting his eyes, shock and horror etching deeply across his face....but only for a moment and then it's gone. The beaten man is sporting a swollen cheek and split lip, from what Brooks can only guess at. He tries to mask the pain he's in, standing up a bit straighter and warily eyeing the yellow clad man. Captain steps towards him, yet Chip doesn't back away, "Come here mutt, let him see the reward for his hard work."
Chip swallows and slowly pads into the light more and Brooks' heart all but shatters. Now properly in the light he can see half dried blood smudged on skin and fabric. His little crewmate has been viciously beaten, bruises blooming over exposed skin as he cradles his ribs with the sleeveless bloodied arm. A simple order to straighten up is not followed to Captain's standard so he is struck across the face, Chip yelping but simply taking it. Their superior grabs hold of that pale jaw.
"You know what I said about letting anyone else do what I do to you. So tell me," Their leader growls, grabbing a wrist so tightly there's another whimper before locking the arm and forcing it behind his back. Chip squeezes his eyes shut as he's pulled against Captain's chest. A gloved hand then cups under his chin and shakes his head until green eyes meet Brooks', "what have you two done?"
"No-Nothing sIR!" Chip cries out and grits his teeth, chest shuddering. Brooks brings his knees under himself and pulls hard on the unforgiving bindings, "Stop it!"
"Shut up." Captain growls at Brooks before focusing back on Chip, "Now pup, you know I hate it when you lie."
"I'm not! I'm n-ot, I swear! We haven'-nnghhnn!" Another cry, blood drips onto the floor from between the two bodies. Tears are streaming down Chip's face, he can barely meet blue's eyes before looking away in shame. Brooks watches as his stray bites his bottom lip so hard the split start bleeding again, "H... He's no... nothing to-to....to me, sir."
"Nothing, hm? Well if you say so." Captain immediately drops Chip entirely and the poor thing collapses to the floor, wheezing and nursing his twisted arm. With one incapacitated, the predator makes his way towards the bound man like shark to an injured seal. He circles behind Brooks, much to his fury, before the sound of something unsnaps and a hand yanks his head back. It happens so fast, Chip screams as something catches the light and cold steel presses against an exposed throat.
"Stop! Please!" Chip pleads, shaking and panting, "We haven't done anything! I swear! Please, please don't kill him!"
He yelps from the pain in his arm when he struggles to his feet, begging for Captain to leave him alone. The knife doesn't move yet doesn't press deeper, "Aw, you poor thing~ So this is how you are to something that's nothing to you?"
Chip whimpers and hangs his head, "I-I..I I.."
"Silence."
Brooks dares to peer further back, wishing he was just a little closer. A cut on the neck would be worth it to crack that unhinged look off the bastard's face. He hates that he is powerless to do anything, damnit! The bite of the blade keeps him from unconsciously attempting something stupid as he drags his eyes back to the disheveled heap of his crewmate. Chip's shaking, eyes as wide as saucers as he is desperately thinking.
Captain unfortunately has all the cards.
Chip swallows thickly and stammers out quickly, "I... I'll do anything you say! Just, just please let him go!"
A dark chuckle comes from their captor, "Oh, you'll do everything I command and he's not going anywhere. Mutt."
The blade is withdrawn as the man stands and strides closer. Chip's full attention is on the threat in front of him, he looks so small against the monster. Panic must grab him as he stutters through a plea. Captain shakes his head while clicking his tongue and strikes him across the face before either crewmate could blink. He staggers to the side but manages to remain standing, whimpering brokenly while spitting blood on the floor. The monster grabs hold of his jacket and forces him to stand up straight.
"Sssh, I see someone needs to learn a very valuable lesson." He purrs in a sickly sweet voice while grabbing hold of Chip's jaw, "Can't have anyone undermine my work."
"P-please...I don't want another to..t-to die."
A cruel part of Brooks is angry that Chip isn't fighting, biting or resisting anything that bastard is doing. How much has he suffered to be broken down this much? His thoughts are sidetracked as he watches Captain lean in close to his cat and whisper something into his ear. Whatever it is has Chip's eyes widen in distress, mouth go slack and the color drain from his face. Their eyes lock for a moment and he rips it away as red overtakes his entire face, mumbling something Brooks can not hear or read his lips. Whatever he says clearly isn't what the yellow clad monster wants to hear as those soulless eyes turn to fix onto him, blue grits his teeth but dares not say a thing and risk Chip getting hurt in retaliation. When he takes a step closer does he speak, "What 'work' are you even talking about? This is insane!"
Chip shrinks away from them both, shaking his head tightly but Brooks doesn't heed the warning, "You talk to him like he's some dog, the fuck's wrong with you?"
Captain takes a slow, deep breath as a lecherous grin spreads across his lips. He stops before blue, staring down at a man who might be on his knees but is not bowing to him. A gloved hand rubs his chin in thought, Chip's blood smudging off onto the skin which only hardens Brooks' glare. The display merely has a lazy snicker drip out, "You remind me a lot of me, strong willed, decisive and not one to bow. Unfortunately you lack discipline and are incapable of keeping your nose out of business you don't belong in."
"You don't get to tell me what is and isn't my business. When it involves people I care about it is my business." Brooks snarls, pulling again at his bonds. He almost reacts when he feels a hand slide forward more than before. Is it getting looser? Or, is he bleeding and it's making it easier to slip out? A slow, near inhuman, head tilt keeps his attention as Captain seems to just take him in, "See? Very very similar. A trained beast can't have two masters..."
The bound man has no time to react as his hair is grabbed and yanked roughly down before getting pulled tightly against his leader's shoulder so there's nothing hidden to now terrified crewmate across the room. Chip is gripping his jacket so tightly that the frayed threads audibly snap. Once more steel meets his throat, "I wonder how long it'll take for that resolve to bleed out of you."
"Captain! Please!" Chip squeaks and reaches out, flinching back visibly when those wicked eyes turn his way.
"What?"
Silence hangs heavy, oppressive even as green flounders with a response. His mouth opens and closes, hands clenching into fists repeatedly, but soon fall limp. The blade cuts Brooks' throat enough that blood drips onto his white shirt. Chip stiffens, eyes transfixed on the spilled life before glancing towards their captor. Brooks wants to tell him not to say anything, but watching as a decision is made has the words die on his tongue. The beaten man licks his lip and flatly states, "Sir...he isn't a threat to you."
Blue feels the man holding him on the razor's edge shift, the cold bite easing ever so slightly, "If you want him to survive this you're going to have to convince me. I don't share."
Drip...
Bait lowers his gaze and sighs, body untensing stiltedly. Chewing on his lip, he slowly sinks to his knees. Brooks jerks and is held fast, more blood rolling down his neck. Before anything else can happen to the blue clad crewmate, Bait unzips his jacket enough to expose his throat and shrugging it further down his shoulders. Two sets of intense eyes stare at him; one of dangerous hunger from Captain and the other of heartbreak. Neither are wanted so Bait avoids looking their way as he murmurs flatly, "C...Please, collar me...sir..."
The knife is sheathed and Captain takes his time as he stalks forward, "Finally admitting where you belong?"
Green eyes flick to Brooks for just a moment before refocusing on the threat. His legs are shaking, drawing closer as his superior towers over him, "y...y-yes sir."
"And who is that pet~?" The way Captain speaks has saliva flooding his mouth. If it'll keep Brooks from being slaughtered then... "You...sir."
Drip...drip...
Something in his heart breaks, something that hurts more than when he submitted to keep Citrus safe. A soft jingle has him inwardly flinch, but forces himself to tilt his head back to offer his neck. The satisfied chuckle has his stomach squirm just before the leather encircles his throat and is pulled tight. Way too tight. Bait gasps and chokes, reaching up instinctively.
"Paws. down."
Reluctantly two bloodied hands touch the floor, fingers curling up to keep them protected. Gasping raggedly, Bait can barely breathe. Blood rushes in his ears, eyes wide and only able to see the calculating gaze of his superior. Just as the edges of his vision begin to go grey, Brooks finds his voice, "Stop it! Let him breathe!"
Captain doesn't let go right away, glancing the other's way as Bait's eyes roll back. Finally the pressure is released and he sucks in a desperate lungful, coughing and gasping. The collar is fastened correctly as he hunches over, his stomach clenching. A hand runs through his hair, "Why don't you show off some of your tricks?"
Ice stiffens his limbs as unfocused eyes slowly lift, stopping when leveled with his a very obvious bulge. Bait warbles and pulls away nervously before the hand holds him in place. He swallows around the pain in his neck and very slowly crawls closer. Brooks calls his name, a raw desperation in his voice. Captain tsks and turns on him, hand resting on the hilt of one of his knives, "You should be quiet and enjoy the show."
When its clear Brooks is not going to listen he whirls on Bait, "Stand."
The order is followed without hesitation, legs threatening to give. Captain snatches his jacket, "Strip. Now."
Shaking hands stumble at getting the rest of his jacket unzipped, yelping when the sleeveless side is gripped and cut. With a sharp tug, Captain spins Bait around and rips it off. The tattered remains are thrown aside and the bloody tank is pulled taut. Fear of being cut has the shorter man pull away reactively, flinching at the sensation of the blade cutting the hem. It is cut off his back and leaves his upper half entirely exposed, bruises and belt marks plain to see. He stays still when ordered to while Brooks is approached, "Should of kept you muzzled if I had known you can't keep quiet. Let's see how long that noble attitude lasts with this."
"And you claim being straight." Blue spits back with his teeth bared. His jab has Captain stop, Bait incapable of seeing the reaction it caused. Their captor throws his head back and laughs. The sound causes goosebumps to spread across his back, making the exposed hairs stand on end. That is not a kind laugh.
"Like I said, I keep business and pleasure separated. This is just management."
The tank is ripped in two as he kneels down and grips his beard, blue unable to fight his jaw being pried open. One half of the shirt is stuffed into his mouth and before it's spat out, the other half is bound tightly around his head. A knowing grin tugs at the monster's lips, "Let's see how long it takes for you to cave like everyone else."
Bait shrinks in on himself when Captain stands, afraid of what's to come. He quickly looms over him and it takes everything in hammering chest not to pull away when he stands to his right side. One heavy hand rests on his shoulder as he's forced to turn his head with the other. A triumphant smirk flashes across his leader's face, "Now that's settled, how about those tricks? Kneel."
It's obeyed quickly, he can't bear the thought of sparing the other a glance at Brooks as he yells through the gag. The hand moves to his head and brings him against a clothed hip, "Go on."
Hands move mechanically, slowly undoing the belt that had just torn skin not twenty minutes ago. More gagged yells filter in through the fog of submission and disbelief, only breaking through when heat bumps against his nose. Captain coos mockingly at him, the words unintelligible as he forces Bait to look up at past the undesired erection. Nausea swirls in his stomach at the gentle poisonous touch that keeps his chin tilted up.
"Show him the only thing you're good for, pet."
Drip.......drip
The words have Bait close his eyes, thick tears roll solemnly down reddened cheeks. Swallowing back useless begging, he takes hold of his superior's length and opens his mouth. Salt and warmth are quickly pushed too deep, too fast, as his head is pulled to the root, effectively cutting off his air. Eyes snap open and stare up at that salacious smirk that has his stomach clench and recoil. The hold of his hair prevents him from pulling away as well as knowing Brooks dies if he fails.
Captain groans and lazily glances over at the bound crewmate with a triumphant smirk, "What's wrong there? Wishing to trade places?"
His mock concern has Brooks glare, but that flushed face says more. The dog makes a tiny sound of discomfort that he rolls his eyes at, "Come on, open up. You know how to do this properly. Don't tell me you forgot how to please. What worth are you if you can't even do this simple task?"
Watching Bait sob around his cock just has the fire burn hotter, it cries so perfectly. Paired with the bound fury across the room and he's living for this intoxicating misery. Perhaps he should have done this more often. Maybe he was a bit too eager to fix problems before. He rocks his hips into that unwilling warmth, keeping the mutt's leash short. It's tongue presses just right, the sounds edging him further with each gagged whimper.
"Mmm~ You've gotten better, you sure you haven't sucked more cock?" He breathes while combing his fingers through sweat matted locks. Bait's eyes widen, dragged out of wherever it was trying to hide and shakes it's head ever so slightly. Those tear sticky eyelashes look so pretty, fingers threading into soft hair, "No? I hope for your sake you're not lying to me pet."
Brooks yells at him, struggling wildly and only adding to the building pressure in his loins. With little warning he pulls that mouth towards him while slamming forward, the dog gagging and grabbing onto his pants, "Relax that throat, or don't. F~uck.."
Thrusting deep and slow, he savors the tight rejection of his subordinate. When eyes begin to roll back and lashes flutter does he let go and enjoy how it drops to it's hands and coughs violently. Saliva drips messily onto the floor, clear strands still connecting to the glistening tip. He says nothing, only quirking a brow at the pathetic mess. Bait swallows and slowly goes back to servicing him with teary eyes. He almost forgot that he has an audience if Brooks didn't growl and snap something through the pleasantly effective gag. Captain rolls his gaze towards him, groaning in satisfaction, "So easy to train when it's already a dysfunctional little thing. So readily rolled over. Are you sure you didn't have a taste? You seem quite eager for it."
He can feel the hitched sob as he fucks into that obedient mouth. Venom is all he's met with from the other man which has him chuckle and shove Bait to the ground. It rolls onto it's side, panting and shakily lifting itself off the floor by unstable arms. Whimpers and breathless sounds drool from his dog, mind half scrambled from the oxygen deprivation. With a quick tuck to protect himself from a wayward strike, he contemplates how to proceed. He's far from done.
The room is unstable, his head is spinning and he just wants to lay down and waste away. Ugh, he can still feel Captain on his tongue. Bait gags and coughs, swallowing repeatedly to stave off possibly vomiting. At least... he hadn't - abdominal muscles flex and he stops thinking. No more... No more he begs to the ghost in the shadows. The milky dead eyes shining in the gloom only respond with rushing water. Right. He chose this. Glancing towards movement he meets Brooks' gaze and feels the water rising. His face is flushed with long hair sticking to the sweat glistened skin, disheveled from his thrashing. Under the anger there's lust. A hand grabs his arm and half drags him closer, Bait digging in his heels and giving watery pleas to stop. Captain smirks and unceremoniously drops him to the ground, fresh marks lighting up with fire as prickling static ripples across his shoulders.
"What? I think your misery is so much better up close, don't you agree Brooks?" The man purrs, grabbing hold of said crewmate's throat and hair. He forces him to look towards Bait, who draws in on itself and covers it's body as much as possible. Brooks glares at him before taking in the broken form that can't bring itself to meet either gaze. A shiver rolls through the bound man which draws a bigger grin, "You better look at me, pup. Wouldn't want anything more to happen to this one here, right? I will say, he bleeds nicely."
Bait jolts at the threat and stares at them, shaking and wiping the blood from it's mouth. Captain leans in so his words have only one recipient, "I wonder, if I hit it hard enough if it'll bark for you."
Being so close he can make a gagged 'go fuck yourself' from the head in his hands. Pulling away, Captain is met with a look that could murder. The rage has a smile with too much teeth spread across his face. He roughly drops his hands and stalks towards Bait, "What a suggestion."
Hands scramble to pull away, the dog not staying where it was dropped. Not missing a beat, he gives a sharp command of 'Sit' which has it halt in it's tracks, drawing knees up towards the chest. Eyes squeeze shut as Bait flinches away. Captain pauses to look at the hand that held Brooks' neck. He rubs the blood between his fingers, visor slowly lowering towards the braced mutt. Moving like a viper, he catches the mouth of his subordinate between his thumb and pointer finger, pressing hard up into the cheek bones. The pathetic thing yelps from pain as it's head connects with the floor, leaving it dazed. Moving to the right side of Bait, he drags it up into a sitting position, clean glove gripping onto the collar. The dog gives a gravelly whine with eyes half closed and shivers in his grip as the blood runs down it's chin, "Look Brooks, you make it smile."
Brooks screams, murder in his eyes as Captain tortures the mutt, wiping the blood of his glove onto a pale cheek. Bait's eyes snap open and stare at nothing before hands shakily reach up to block more of his touch. It trying to tell him no has his patience wane, "You seem to forget your lesson-"
He leans closer with a smirk, "You're mine."
Bait shudders as Captain leaves his line of sight, a hand fisting in his hair and pulling him to his knees. The free hand trails to the fly of his pants, circling slowly to drag out the dread. His leader then coos sweetly into his ear, just loud enough for only him to hear, "I'll kill him if he dares to not watch your truth."
"And you wouldn't want that~?"
Bait blinks away tears, fearfully gazing at Brooks who looks like he's ready to throw hands. Captain demands he give him the instruction, cruelly shaking his scalp when his voice doesn't come. The terrified dog whimpers and chokes out, "B-Brooks..."
Said man meets his eyes which has his throat seize, Bait having to break eye contact with a swallowed sob, "...d...don't look away... please..."
He's immediately bent over, head pinned against the rough floor. Captain growls for him to spread his knees and the world blurs from tears. He never wanted this. He doesn't want this. Never wanted this. Don't want! Don't want! Please no! Nonono! Stopitstopitnoplease!
Brooks will know everything, how broken and repulsive he is! He thought-...well there's the problem, huh? Nails claw against the floor as his dignity is dragged off his hips. His body can't move, it barely can hear Brooks' broken shouts at the first intrusion. A whimper is caught behind his teeth, choking on his tears and grinding his forehead into the filth. Make it stop...make it stop makeitstop makeitstopmakeitstopmAKEITST-!! Bait jumps up onto his hands with a breathless gasp at the violating stretch of a cock. The collar is grabbed tightly which has the cry cut off.
"Stay. down!" Captain snaps while catching the back of his head by the elbow and slamming him back down, "No escaping your punishment, little bitch."
He can't see, can't fight, can't run...can't hide. Throat muscles spasm with rapid, shallow panting. Everything presses in with high pitched droning whines, the echo of his breathing and the familiar stretching pain. Bait makes the mistake of slowly looking up to seek comfort from Brooks, seeing only revulsion and anger. The shattered pieces inside him feel ground into dust. He can't! He can't! He can't!
Drip. Drip....
His mind snaps.
Captain feels his dog going still, leaning forward and pressing hard on the spine he snaps, "Don't you dare ran away from me."
Bait gives a small sound and yelps when knuckles grind between two vertebrae, twisting and looking around blindly. Inner muscles tighten up deliciously, urging him to thrust harder. He twists an arm behind it's back to give himself better leverage to slam into the unwilling warmth. The cries and whines grow in pitch, his pathetic dog sobbing, "I can't- I can't! I-I can't!"
It's breath hitches between every sound and word, nails dragging helplessly while he effortlessly holds the squirming body in place, "Aw, am I too much for you, pet?" Bait whines and nods, shaking and trying to escape. Captain simply digs his nails into the oldest scars on the mutt's back and slowly drags them down until the squirming stops, "I never asked if you could, you don't have a choice in this matter. Punishments aren't negotiable."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry-I'm sorry! Sir! Please pleasepleaseplease! I'm sorry!" Bait screams, words beginning to slur together. Captain groans at the tightness, taunting if it hates this so bad why is it's body holding on so much. His words have Brooks looking furiously gutted watching and unable to do a damn thing. Bait's quickly devolves into incoherent wails in it's native tongue, gasping stiltedly between each breath.
Brooks yanks violently at his binds, shouting as best he can with how dry his throat is. Not again! He can't be so incapable to need to be saved again. Chip's head snaps up at his yells and recognition washes over his tear stained face, pushing back in panic. Captain grunts and grips his hair, "Oh? You wish he was fucking you instead? So you have done something with him?"
"No! Nonononono! Níor dhear-aaah!" Captain yanks his hair, snapping hips angrily while chastising him about his speech. Chip cries out, jerking his head away with more disjointed begging. His arm is twisted back harder which has another howl escape the ragged throat, Chip gasps and swallows, "We-we we didn't. We didn't! I swear sir! I swear!"
Brooks chews at the gag, fury welling in his heart. His disgust at the treatment of his crewmate crushes the haze entirely. He snarls and keeps working at the scrap of shirt, got to get it out. Fuck! He meets Chip's hollow gaze as Captain forces him to arch back, whispering something into a reddened ear. Eyes slowly widen in fear, soon darting around as he shakes, leaving Brooks only capable of guessing to what venom that bastard is saying. It's clear it's devastating as Chip's expression goes from horror to tearful resignation as he hides his face from either of them. Captain grins while staring at Brooks before he locks his other arm around Chip's neck and forces him up onto his knees. Broken, whimpered 'please', 'no' and 'I'm sorry' are repeated over and over until the rhythmic thrusts stutter.
Chip chokes on a disgusted sob, getting roughly dropped to the ground. He covers his head and curls up as best his battered body will allow as Captain cleans himself like this was routine, simple maintenance of a piece of machinery. Soon he's back on his feet and adjusting his straps back into perfect order, as if he didn't just brutally rape his subordinate. Dusting off his sleeves, the monster slowly approaches, stepping over the cowering form without so much as a glance. Brooks stares up at him, wishing that he could fight him one on one or that he had hit harder after the Bracken.
"Let's see if you even remember any of this later." He chuckles and pulls out a black tin and selects a syringe. There's a muffled sound when the tin snaps shut, but Brooks doesn't break eye contact to see. He can infer why. Captain is clearly quite pleased with himself as he crouches down and grips his hair to pull his neck taut, smugness just dripping off his words, "This might hurt, but it'll just be a bad dream. For you, at least."
Brooks stiffens at the prick of the needle, eyes going wide as hot static spreads and pulses through him. His head is released and the yellow monster goes about gathering his gear, stepping over the sobbing mess on the floor as if he's nothing more than an inconvenience. Darkness has brown eyes slowly crossing as the drugs rapidly take hold. In the fading consciousness, Captain comes close again, "Next time, you won't wake up."
The room sways and sounds of his heart and the muffled quiet crying blend together until Brooks' head falls forward. He doesn't know if he will actually wake up or remember. Eyes try to keep focused, but soon it's too much effort so he tries to keep them open. He fears this might not be the first time this happened. Yellow passes his swimming vision and all Brooks can manage is a gravelly groan. The last thing he hears before the drugs drag him into oblivion is Chip cry out his name in pain and panic.
The most unapreciated part of Brook's second backstory in my opinion, is the way it tells a secondary tale about King Reuven, Brook's big brother, all through his reactions, his expressions, him letting himself go, and how there is such a clear divide between the younger and more hopeful young Prince who took in Brook as his brother, and a more cynical, downer man who has had to deal with the aftermath of his wife's brutal humiliation and the consequences thereoff that would in the end, get him and his entire kingdom wiped off the face of the Earth.
We are introduced to Reuven as an older man, clearly past his prime and if mayhaps not quite as far along as big mom, has clearly let himself go.
However, that isnt really the important part of this introduction, rather it's the very cold way he treats his little brother's proclamation of joy for his wife, and not any smile at his followup joke to try and ease the tension.
Now it's easy to think this is just a couple of siblings throwing barbs at each other... and it is, but there is a sharp divide between these two's thought process.
obviously ther was no way Reuven was going to execute brook here, but he isnt laughing either. For Brook's and Shuri, this is a funny little back and forth, but for Reuven, this is a bit that stopped being funny the moment when his wife was assaulted, and got pregnant with a world noble's child.
In hindsight, this moment, is downright depressing, because just like Brook making some lame joke about Arlong right besides Nami at fishman isle, he is very obliviously reopening a wound that is exceptionally bitter and personal to his own family.
rather than a big brother making a sarcastic barb, its instead him using words to get to vent out his feelings of rage and frustration at his little bro withouth having to immediatly resort to violence.
which in turn deeply colors the scene immeditaly following where he does try to use violence to vent his feelings at Brook.
There is also another underlying story under the surface that Brook doesnt pick up on, and isnt immediately obivious on a first reading.
Reuven 1. doesnt make any bones about the face that Shuri is his daughter, despite knowing fully well she is not his biological child.
And 2. he is very sensitive of the idea that Shuri isnt acting in the manner one would expect from a "True daughter". obviously this is a small family drama one could expect from a kid who doesnt know any better, and her older male family figures playing out a bit knowing fully well this precious crush sillyness isnt going anywhere... But when you have the full picture, and one sees how easily this very small display of "Rejection" from Shuri maked Reuven Cry, while also immediatly kicking Brook for "disrespecting her".
This is a man who is TERRIFIED that his daughter would reject him, the moment she learned he wasnt her biological dad, and overcompensates by being extremely overprotective.
Then when he learns the his wife is in danger, in a scene played for comedy, he has the usual one piece overreaction scene while begging Brook to go and handle it all, all while his little brother just takes it all easy, having already dealt with the threat, and in any case, it doesnt matter anyway, the queen is strong.
however, while listening to this, while Shuri has a more standard scared kid face at the news something bad might happen to mama, Reuven has a different kind. A much more genuinely scared and almost primal level of fear with the kind of small, blank white eyes Oda generally only uses when Characters are going through something absolutely horrible.
The reason for this, is that regardless of how strong his wife is, Reuden knows better. he knows that there are far, far more powerfull people in this world than him and his wife, and that you cannot take your own security for granted, because he lived through a similar scenario once, and it fundamentally altered him to his core.
and so, not trusting either his own, or his wife's strength, he can only turn to his strongest man, Brook.
For brook, this is a whimsical episode, for Reuden its a moment where he is about to have a mental breakdown as the worst day of his life seems about to happen again.
its also a strong juxtaposition with his wife, the actual true victim of the events that lead to Shuri's birth.
In sharp contrast to her husband, who basically became a completely different person, Candelle has NOT let what happened to her, define her life. Rather than a Victim, she is out there, confidently living her best life withouth fear, trusting in her own strength and that of Brook and her kingdom.
of course, first time reading this, all these details arent clear, and we are instead shown how pathethic Reuven seems, especially compared to Brook... But then we get the followup chapter showing how Brook and Reuden met... and he is completely different.
Instead of the reculsive, downer man we first saw, Reuden is instead far more like his wife, down to drink, sing, smoke and party, living life to the fullest withouth fear or worries about anything.
we also see his more fearless side, throwing himself into battle withouth abandon, which in turn was one of the things that made the younger brooks take to swordship in the first place.
This is Reuven in his prime, when he was young, strong, fearless, thinking he was invincible and as luffy would do so much later, decided he could take on the world government headon withouth fear or consequence.
and just like Luffy, he would come to have to face the fact that he could not.
The critical moment though, came as a result of that very event. Brook heartedly relays the events, treating it as a moment of whimsy, when in reality what happened here was this.
Reuven attacked marines, trusting in his royal status to protect him.
Sometime later, an escort of Celestial Dragons came to the country.
it does not take a genuis to figue out the course of events here, though brook's doesnt piece it together at all.
To save him, Reuden took on the world government, and in response, a bunch of celestial dragons, led by what seems to be one of Imu's holy knights, came to the kingdom.
The reality was stark, and Reuden would have firsthand discovered the conseuquences of crossing the government.
Because his father died at this exact time, leading to Reuven taking the throne.
and we know this happened RIGHT at this time or just afterwards, because while Brook tells this story in such a way you could assume the couple of months when Candelle was bedridden(aka, taking the time to deal with the consequnces of what happened to her) we can actually spot that this isnt quite how it happened, as Candelle was so early in her pregnancy when she and Reuven married and took the throne that there was no sign she was pregnant yet.
That means that as a consequence of how Reuven saved Brooks, his dad ultimately got killed, and the love of his life got raped, and knowing the holy knights modus operandi, he probably got quite the beating as well.
this moment, not shown to us, was the moment that completely changed Reuven into the man we see in the later parts of Brooks flashbacks, the man who, despite clearly still loving Brook's, couldnt just go back to the way things used to be.
On first reading, this moment where Reuven is juxtaposed with his wife, is meant to show a contrast with the carefree wife and the gloomy husband, but on the second read, this is a woman who overcame her trauma and has embraced her life and the daughter that came from her worst day fully, while her husband is filled with nothing but worry, worry about the kingdom, himself and his daughter's relationship, and her growing so close with brook. a man reuven still loves, but clearly cannot just be as open about it as he used to be.
There is too much baggage here. it's not hard to imagine that at least some part of Reuven must at least to some degree blame brook for what happened. even if no such ugly part of himself exists, there is the way brooks so carelessly procalims his love for his wife, that though meant in chaste manner, Reuven CANNOT just accept for what it is. and of course there is the way that Brooks has become his mirror. in a small family where nobody else is worried, he is the realist, the man who truly understands how weak they are and how easily things can change.
For a man who is afraid of his daughter rejecting him if she ever found out the real truth, so easily bonding and turning to his younger brother, who brings such complicated feelings to, its really must have seemed obvious to him, in a way that it didnt to everybody else(maybe except his wife) how outside his own family Reuven felt. The king, the leader of his family and people who adored him, and yet here he is, isolated and unable to find himself at peace in the world.
brooks is his most loyal supporter and the man who loves Reuven more than anything else in the world, and yet there is a deep, silent cliff between him and his brother, who by all accounts, was the one his daughter always turned to. Not him.
then everything got worse.
the unnatural smog(most certainly caused by the world government to set up what came next) killed his country. it destroyed his economy, setting up round two with the government as he no longer could pay his yearly heavenly tribute.
it killed his wife, once again proving to Reuven that he could not protect her when it came down to it, and it destroyed his body itself, a perfect living symbol of what had become of his realm, his family and his people.
when he returns from his last trip to the holy land, or wherever it was he had his chat with the government, he is unapolygetic, and brutually to the point.
War is coming, and it's a war he clearly understands he cannot win.
This is not some grand stand where he hopes he can somehow win against the odds.
This is a man caught between a rock and a hard place.
He cannot abandon his people and land. which means he has to stay and fight here. he cannot, and will not give up the actual price the world government wants, which is Shuri. which means he must face the consequences of standing against the world government.
he cannot flee, and he has to fight. so he must make his final stand here.
it is also here, that he does something new. He lies. he flat out lies and sells his people and Brook a lie that he was given a choice to either give up a thousand slaves, or war.
Whatever his motivation, wheter its fear his people will refuse to fight for Shuri, or just to motivate them to fight harder thinking their families becoming slaves is the actual goal of the government, or he just does not want to publicly explain the hows and why this all came to be and why they want her, we dont know, but lie he does.
whatever the reason, the effect is the same, as Reuven prepares to go to his final battle, his people rallies, and his little brother trusts in him completely, certain that his brother knows best, that it is not his place to challenge his king's decisions.
the contrast could not be clearer. Brooks, to the last, has hope. he believes their cause is just and that they will somehow, against the odds, prevail.
Meanwhile, Reuven knows better.
And what a fitting thing his brother would one day say these words to Big Mom...
Young lady… What kind of fool would ever plan to die?!
The tragic fool in question, is Reuven... but who is the true fool? the fool, or fools who follows him?
Brook during the short war is spectacular, but he is not brave. he simply does not even consider an outcome where they actually lose.
This makes him the polar opposite of his brother, who was defined by his fears and his worries.
Brook believed that him and his people's names and history could not easily dissapear from history and the maps of the world.
even as the palace is breached, and he sees all the symbols of his past and the places that were important to him go up in flames, Brook's still believes that somehow, victory must be possible and in fact natural.
because there is no way that his great big brother, the man brooks respects and loves more than anything or anyone in the world, could ever lose.
But Reuven was not rocks, nor joy boy... and come to think of it, both Rocks and Joy Boy lost to Imu didnt they?
One aspect of Reuven's death that Oda deliberately hid from us, was Reuven's face when he died.
unlike Rocks, who was smiling at the end, despite it all, we dont get to see the look of utter defeat that Reuven has in the end, just like we never got to see Brook's own eyes in his first flashback as he died. their emotions were deliberately left for us to imagine at the scene of his greatest failure.
but there is one, final little detail to note in the tragedy of King Reuven of Esperia, older brother of Dead Bones Brook's.
chains. this is a small detail to his outfit that can be easy to miss on the first read, but are very obvious in hindisight.
These chains were such a defining part of Reuven's royal attire, that when brook later tries to think back to what happened, his brain damaged mind conjures them up because he expect them to be there.
Reuven wore these chains across his back, his entire life as king, putting them on sometime after his coronation, and afterwards, during his entire reign, there were only two times they werent there, a silent detail the king literarily carried around with him everywhere he went.
the first time was at his wife's grave, the only time during his life when he werent wearing them.
and the second time, was at the sight of his death, when having been slain at the hands of the young girl he raised as his own, the chains and whatever it was that they represented to him, was gone.
Just like his hopes, his dreams, his optimism, his wife, and his child.
"Nah, this ain't just any fish. This here's a big ol' bass!"
"Oh, wow."
"Yessir, it's a biggun'! Can you, uh, take mah picture, Ollie?"
Oliver reached for his phone, careful not to nick himself on the cracked glass. The nearest Apple store was seven hours away, he'd learned.
"Okay, say 'cheese,' Brooks!"
"Ah, shudn't I say 'bass'?"
"Well, say that then!"
"Okey dokey, 'bass!'"
Click.
"I've got to get my phone fixed."
"Ya know, my unc's gotta place where he does all that tech stuff," Brooks said as he released his catch, wiping the slime from its scales on his jeans. "Take care of it right quick too, I bet."
"Oh?"
"Yup. But look, since we both know you're not from here…" Oliver nodded. "So it ain't gonna be all fancy like."
"Yeah…"
"Look, can't ya try to forget it for a little while? This here's what life's all about. Just bein' outside, like God intended. Uh, I mean…like, uh…"
"I'm not offended."
"Sorry, I don't…didn't ya say you's Catholic?"
"Jewish. Emphasis on the -ish."
"Oh. That's…different?"
"Very."
"Huh. But…you still pray to somethin' right?"
"Sometimes. It's…complicated? We used to be pretty observant growing up, but not so much now. I think the last time I was in a synagogue was my Bar Mitzvah, when I was thirteen."
"You were in a bar at thirteen? Man, you're gonna have to 'splain that to me."
"No, no! Bar Mitzvah. It's like a coming-of-age ceremony, basically. But…you do drink wine, though."
"Uh…okay. I think I got it now."
"I'll explain on the ride back."
"You wanna head to my place? Or yours?"
"I wouldn't mind staying the night."
"I was hopin' you'd say that."
"You don't have to go to work tomorrow?"
"Not 'less there's an emergency. Like…some city boy thinkin' his pipes ain't workin', 'cept the real problem's he didn't pay his water bill." Brooks smirked.
Oliver blushed. "Hey! I had a lot going on."
"Ya know, I ain't ever got a tip on a job before, neither?"
"Well, you were really nice. And like, the first person I met down here who was my own age."
"Yeah." Brooks nodded. "I kinda thought you were askin' for some…extra service."
"I mean, it is your job to lay pipe."
"Huh? Oh…oh!" It was Brooks's turn to blush.
"I didn't mean anything by it, you know. But did you really clock me then?"
"Yeah. When I walked through that door…Ollie, you were real happy to see me, haha!"
"You're cute, what can I say?"
"Aww, thanks."
"I guess I just didn't think that you…that anyone here…could be, y'know…"
"Gay? There's more of us than yah'd think. Guys who like guys, I mean. There's all kinds a rumors 'bout the mayor, that couple who owns the antiques store downtown, one of 'em's got that big ol' house off Commerce Street. And shit, community theater ain't gonna run itself!"
"Touché."
"Huh?"
"Oh, it means 'good point.'"
"That Spanish?"
"French."
"That's from…France?"
"Yep."
"Ollie," Brooks sighed. "Do ya think…I'm kinda…dumb?"
There was a long pause.
"I don't think it matters. Or if it does…well, then you're smart in different ways. I don't know how to catch a bass. Or fix…pipes. And you know all of those different Bible verses, too."
"Uh-huh."
"You're different from any guy I've known. Back when I lived up North, I mean." Oliver looked out the truck's window as the sun slipped under the horizon. "But Brooks…that doesn't make you stupid. There's a lot more to life than the pursuit of knowledge. You don't need to be a walking encyclopedia. I don't want you to be a walking encyclopedia."
"Ah, okay. Sometimes, when ya talk, I guess I feel a little…behind? Like that whole, uh, tu-shay thing. And what you just said, 'bout that…en-cycle-peter? I ain't ever heard somebody say that. You just talk so…pretty."