#yonko

It started with a strange, floral scent, subtle but maddening, swirling in the air of the marketplace. The merchant’s stand had been covered in bright red flowers, their pollen drifting through the wind. The fool of a merchant. Greedy and stupid. The plants that grew Devil Fruits were rare, especially since when an eater dies, their fruit reappears somewhere in the world. It didn’t mean that the flowers didn't appear, and when they did, stupid merchants would not hesitate to cut them down and sell them to the highest bidder. The flower and leaves could be dried and mashed up to make all sorts of powders, tinctures, and oils for a skilled physician, at least, but for an idiot with a pestle and mortar it was dangerous. Even for a Yonko like himself

When that pollen hit his face, he knew the trouble it would cause he was at least thankful the small gust didn't hit anyone else.

The change was slow at first. A warmth spread through his chest, making his pulse race, though he chalked it up to the tropical heat. But then came the scent—your scent. Faint at first, like a whisper on the breeze, but with each passing day, it grew stronger, more intoxicating. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. It called to him, pulling him in a direction he didn’t fully understand.

Days passed, and the more he fought it, the stronger the urge became. Beckman and Hongo are watching over him constantly.  Every breath he took was painful. Every breath seemed to be filled with you, and a painful reminder that you were not there somewhere beyond his reach, waiting to be found. And Shanks, despite his easygoing nature, couldn’t ignore it any longer. The need was burning when he gave Snake his new destination and Beckman his orders.

xxx

The festival on the island of Tansora was in full swing when the Red Force docked. Music filled the air, laughter echoing through the streets. Shanks, with his usual grin and swagger, led his crew into town, but beneath his confident exterior, that strange hunger gnawed at him.

Despite the dizzying array of smell and sound and copious amounts of ale and rum being passed around it was not hard to find you, winding himself through the winding passages and hoards of writhing bodies. Your scent was not easily overpowered.

You were on stage, dancing with a grace that made the crowd sway in rhythm. But it wasn’t just your movements that captivated him—it was the power you radiated. You didn’t know it, but your very presence was laced with Haki. It was subtle, woven into every turn and every motion of your dance, commanding attention and respect without you needing to speak a word.

Shanks’ heart raced, the scent of you overwhelming his senses, and for a moment, he felt as if the world had narrowed to just you and him. He watched, entranced, the pull growing stronger, primal.

"Captain," Benn Beckman’s voice cut through the haze. "You good? you haven't had a drop of rum since we left the ship."

Shanks tore his eyes away from you, blinking as if waking from a dream. "Yeah," he said, though his voice was rougher than usual. "I’m fine. Pass me a tankard, let's celebrate, we just have one small thing to do." Shanks roared, followed by his crew, clattering of cups sloshing the amber coloured liquid. But not once did his eyes leave your performance.

He wasn’t fine. Not at all.

xxx

When your music finished, you slipped off the stage and away from the crowd, seeking a moment of quiet in the alley behind the festival grounds. The air was hot, stifling, a thin sheen of sweat glimmered in the night. Your heart was still pounding from the dance, the energy of the evening lingering in your body like an aftershock. But there was something else, too—an uneasy feeling that you couldn’t shake, like you were being watched. The cold air felt good on your calling skin as you settled against the rough slates of the building that surrounded the square. Closing your eyes, you took a few steady pants of breath to steady your racing heart. The sound of shuffling stirred you from your moment's respite. 

That’s when you saw him.

A man stood in the shadows, leaning casually against the wall, an arm crossed over his chest. He was tall, with messy red hair that framed his face in a wild, untamed way. His grin was cocky, but there was something in his eyes that set you on edge—something dark and intense. a black cloak blocked most of his form, but you didn't need to see it. He was tall and strong built. No man could be up to any good, lurking on the fringes of the festival. Not when whatever pleasure they wanted could be filled in the main square. 

"Didn’t mean to scare you," he said, his voice smooth, almost teasing. "You’re quite the dancer. I didn't expect that, aren't I a lucky man." he smiled. 

You narrowed your eyes, taking a step back. "Who are you?"

He straightened up, walking toward you with a swagger. "Shanks," he said simply, as if that was all the explanation you needed.

When you didn’t respond, he let out a soft chuckle. "You really don’t know, do you? I thought it would work on you too, hm."

"Know what?" You snapped, your body tensing as the unease grew. There was something about him, something in the way he looked at you, like he knew more than he was letting on.

Shanks’ grin faded slightly, replaced by something more serious. "There’s a connection between us," he said, his voice low. "I don’t know how or why, but I can feel it. And I know you can too."

Your heart skipped a beat. His words sent a chill down your spine. The closer he got the more impressive his form seemed, thick muscles strained against his skin, bronzed by hours outside in the hot sun, a body that had left the tale-tell signs of a fighter, the three jagged scars that drew down across his right eye and a missing left arm. Not that would hinder him, he did seem like he would need another arm to do some serious damage.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you said, keeping your voice steady. "And I don’t care. Whatever you think is happening here, it’s not."

Shanks stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, but there was a softness in his gaze, a sweetness beneath the authority. "I wish it was that simple," he murmured, his voice almost tender. His fingers twitching as his reached his hand out before pulling in back to his check settling in back to his side, but you did miss the clench of his hand and his fingernails pressing in to the callous flesh on his palm ‘’I haven’t been able to think about anything but you. The scent of you, the pull of you... it’s driving me mad."

You stared at him, your pulse racing. "You are drunk or insane," you said, though your voice wavered. ‘’and I don't have time for either"

"I didn’t want this," he admitted, ignoring you words, his expression pained. "But it’s not about what I want anymore. It’s about what we are. You are mine."

You took a step back, shaking your head. "So you're definitely drunk and insane then," your voice wobbled as you skirted back, but every move you made back forward, he moved forward, his eyes forever moving, devouring you. 

Shanks sighed, his usual cocky smile slipping for a moment, replaced by something darker, more conflicted. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I can’t fight it anymore. I need you with me."

Your stomach twisted. You have been an entertainer long enough to know how to deal with the pervy patrons that crowd round every corner after a performance, and you have lived in Tonsona long enough to know a pirate when you see one. Grabby and rude, pushing their intimation on anything they thought they could get away with, This however was different, this pirate presence seemed to dominate the space, he was by no means a giant but there was something oddly menacing about this one. And you really did not have the energy to deal with this, a overfriendly pirate too drunk and stupid to make a real pass at you.

"I’m not going anywhere with you," you said, your voice firm. ‘’Go back to the festival.’’

Shanks’ eyes flashed with frustration, but he didn’t push. Instead, he took a deep breath as if steadying himself. "I didn’t want it to come to this," he said softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "But I don’t have a choice."

Before you could react, there was movement behind you—strong hands grabbing your arms, pulling you back. You struggled, but it was no use. The men holding you were skilled, their grips firm yet careful, as if they didn’t want to hurt you.

"Let me go!" you shouted, panic rising in your chest.

Benn Beckman appeared beside Shanks, his expression calm but unreadable. "We need to take her, Captain," he said quietly. "It’s the only way."

Shanks clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. "I know," he muttered, his voice thick with self-loathing. "But that doesn’t mean I like it."

‘’Hongo will make sure she isn't harmed.’’ Benn's gruff voice soothing his captain as he marched him toward the dock, back to you as you were pulled along with them.  

You fought against the hands of the crew, but they were unyielding, your heart pounding in your chest, but they were too strong. They lifted you off your feet, carrying you toward the docks where the Red Force awaited. No matter how much you twisted and struggled, they did not budge. Their eyes are determined and hard.

You screamed, your voice filled with fury and desperation. "You don’t have to do this!"

Shanks winced, his face tight with guilt. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. With his back to you, you could barely hear him. "But I need you with me. I can’t let you go."

Despite the firm set of his jaw and the confidence in his stance, there was pain in his eyes, a battle raging within him. He hated himself for this, for taking you against your will, but the primal need inside him—the need for his—overpowered his conscience. He couldn’t walk away, not now.

"Let me go!" you shouted, panic rising in your chest.

Your eyes darted between Shanks and Beckman, the reality of the situation crashing down on you like a wave. You were trapped.

"Why are you doing this?" you demanded, fear creeping into your voice, tears welling up in your eyes as you tugged hopelessly at the hands that caged you.

Shank's didn’t turn to you, only glanced at you over his shoulder, the pleading of his tone making you freeze in the hands of your captives. "Because I need you. We need each other. You’ll understand soon enough, but you have to trust me."

You swallowed hard, every instinct screaming at you to run, to escape. But the way he looked at you, with a mix of desperation and longing, kept you rooted in place.

"I won’t be your captive," you shot back defiantly but quietly.

"You’re not a captive," Shanks replied, his voice softening. "You’ll be mine."

Even as you fought against the ropes that bound you, you could not quell a deepening feeling in the pit of your stomach to submit, to give in. A feeling that you pushed down with every fiber of your body even though every cell in your body screamed for you to not fight.

xxxxx

Once aboard the Red Force, they brought you to a cabin, locking the door behind you. You paced the small room, your mind racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. but you didn't miss the soft creak of the ship, and it swayed into motion. You were sailing. On a ship. Abducted by a crew and what you can only assume was their deranged captain. Your best hope was they were going to sell you, the worse… you shivered, it doesn't bear thinking about it.  

After what seemed an eternity, the door creaked open, and Shanks stepped inside. His cocky grin was gone, replaced by a sombre expression in this light. You could see him clearly now. The red locks framed his face, and chocolate eyes stared out at you from a canvas of gold skin. His feature was well weathered but handsome as he leaned against the doorframe, his arm crossed.

"I didn’t want it to go like this," he said quietly, his voice soft. "I didn’t want to force you."

You glared at him, your anger flaring. "Then why did you? Why kidnap me?"

Shanks ran a hand through his hair, and down his face, his stubble made him look tired, frustration etched into his features. "Because if I didn’t, I’d lose myself." His eyes met yours, raw and unguarded. "That damn pollen, it’s turned me into something I never wanted to be.’’ he muttered more to himself than to you. ‘’But now, I need you more than anything. And I hate myself for it but for now you need to stay."

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard. You could see the conflict in him—the cocky, confident pirate who always had control now fighting against something far deeper, something primal and unavoidable.

"I don’t expect you to forgive me," Shanks continued, his voice quiet. "But I promise you this—I’ll keep you safe. Always."

You didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to fight back, to demand your freedom. But another part of you—it wasn't sure. 

‘’What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your anger giving way to confusion.

"To make you mine," Shanks said simply, his gaze unwavering. "I can’t fight it, and neither should you. Whatever this is between us,  it is not something I have the power to ignore."

Your breath caught in your throat. The intensity of his gaze burned into you, but you couldn’t let yourself be swayed by his words. You took a step back, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control.

"Let me go!" you shouted again, this time more forcefully.

"Can’t do that," he replied, though his tone was almost apologetic. "Not until we figure this out. Until I know you’re safe. I’m not just a pirate; I’m a Yonko. I won’t let anyone hurt you."

 "What’s wrong with you? I don’t need you to protect me! I don’t need anything from you!"

"You’re wrong," Shanks said, his voice steady, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. "You need me. You will see in time."

Your eyes narrowed, but you couldn’t deny the flicker of uncertainty in your gut. Shanks straightened, his confident demeanour slowly returning as he gave you a small, apologetic smile. "For what it’s worth," he said softly, "I’ll make this right. One way or another. You never know you might like life as a pirate. You strike me as the cutthroat type. Now get some rest."

And with that, he turned and left, leaving you alone in the cabin as the Red Force sailed away into the night, carrying you toward an uncertain future.