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Stolen	By : chesierecat Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 592 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Summary: AU. Vincent is a legendary pirate who is cursed with
immortality. Sephiroth is Midgar�s most prized general, whose deeds are equally
celebrated, ordered to catch him. What if the notorious pirate also decides to
seize the proud General captive for a certain purpose?

Warning: This fanfiction contains shounen-ai/yaoi contents, in
other words, male/male relationship. If you find the said contents disturbing,
I suggest you leave this page immediately. You�ve been warned, so please don�t
flame me about that. (Also it�s un-beta-ed.)

Pairing: Vincent/Sephiroth. (Yes, I�m one of those who firmly
believe that Hojo is Sephiroth�s biological father.) Minor Zack/Cloud. May have
other pairings when the story progresses.

Note: I was watching PotC the other day and my sister said
that Jack Sparrow�s headband reminded her of Vincent, so�yes, that�s where this
idea came up. And since I�ve always wanted to write a FFVII yaoi fanfic, here�s
the not-so-surprising result.

Prologue: Those who are called Legend

�Priscilla! Priscilla!� An
old man called, trying to squint through the blinding veil of darkness as he
wandered along the quiet stone paved street in search of his granddaughter. It
was getting late in the night, already an hour or two past the curfew but his
granddaughter hadn�t returned yet.

�Priscilla!� The old man
called again�this time even louder�as he walked closer and closer to the beach
where his granddaughter loved to visit. The sand was delicately soft under his
feet and every time he took a step, it left a vivid footprint. In the distant,
he could hear the sound of the dark waves crashing against the shore, which
became louder and louder as he approached. And not long after, he heard the
familiar voice of a whistle.

�Priscilla!� The man
called�anger could be detected in his hoarse voice.

The little girl blinked and
turned�the small red whistle still in between her lips. �Grandpa?� She said,
blinking again, innocently.

The old man scowled. �Don�t you
know it�s past your curfew already? Quick, come home.�

Priscilla�s head drooped,
apparently not wanting to go. �But Grandpa, Mr. Dolphin��

�No �but�, Priscilla. Come
now or do you want Vincent Valentine to pop out of nowhere and capture you to
his demon ship?�

On hearing that, the little
girl�s eyes widened in instant fear and she vehemently shook her head. �Nu-uh,
Grandpa.�

�Then, now, let�s go home.�

The little girl nodded and
with one last goodbye wave to her dolphin friend, turned and followed the old
man back to their home.

��

�Hey, Cloud, do you think that
Vincent Valentine really exists?� asked a tall, muscular man with long spiky
black hair. Having head the conversation between the old man and the little
girl a little earlier, he was curious about his quieter friend�s opinion.

Cloud, a slightly younger,
smaller man with short blond hair, also spiky, entered the bar after his
companion, closing the old wooden door behind him. Cloud didn�t say anything,
only shrugged as he followed his dark haired porcupine head friend to the
counter. Then, after finding themselves comfortable enough seats and downing a
few glasses of sweet liquor, he spoke up:

�I don�t know if it�s true
but I heard a rumor about him being seen in Costa del Sol
last week.�

That earned him and instant
burst of laughter from his friend, Zack who almost choked on his drink. �Man,
that was funny, Cloud. Costa del Sol, you say?
That�s the last place pirates, let alone good old Vinny, would ever visit! It�s
too crowed and hot and sunny and has girls in bikini and more girls in bikini
and��

Cloud shook his head. �You
ask about my opinion, so I just say it. But�� Golden brows creased up as he
seemed to be thinking�more seriously than his laughing friend. �You know, when
it�s crowed, it�s easier to blend in and hide.�

Zack stared at him as if he
had grown two heads with another head being a Chocobo. �Cloud��

�What?� The blond raised a
brow, backing from his mildly drunk friend a little. He knew what was coming.
Oh boy, did he know�

�That was genius, my friend
Cloudy boy!� Zack boomed, immediately throwing himself at the smaller blond who
gave a silent squeak at the evil weight of a fully grown and muscular man being
bestowed upon him like a blessing of doom from Satan himself as he fell back in
his chair�

�Owww!�

�And hit the solid floor. Hard.
With a laughing Zack on top of him.

Damn. Cloud mentally swore as he tried to shove the unholy
weight off of him. Why did it always have to be him? Oh dear god why?

�So you think our dear Vinny
really does exist.� Zack stated with a serious face despite their very
promising position, not bothering to get up yet.

�Zack�get�off�� Cloud
breathed. �You�re�heavy.�

Violet eyes blinked. Once.
Twice. And then their owner grinned sheepishly. �Sorry, pal.� He said, getting
up and helping Cloud to his feet. The younger one sighed and picked up his
fallen chair.

�If this �Vinny� you are
talking about is Vincent Valentine, I�ve heard from a reliable source that the
rumor rings true about him being in Costa del Sol.�

�What!?� Zack turned abruptly
at the voice. It was the bar master. �Oh no, old man, not you too. The story of
Vincent Valentine is just a fairy tale.�

�A legend.� The bar master
corrected, grimly.

Zack took another sip from
his drink. �No, old man, you don�t know what a legend is until you�ve seen it
with your own eyes.� He pointed two fingers at each of his eyes and grinned.
�And I�ve seen it. The legend isn�t a man who you don�t know if he really exists
or not. That�s just a fairy tale. But the real legend that really exists and
still alive, living and breathing, is the man I work with.�

His grin grew wider as he
leaned in as if the information was top-secret. Cloud shook his head at his
friend�s act of childishness but couldn�t help a smile.

�General Sephiroth.�

Their respectable commander, General
Sephiroth was truly�a real live legend.

��

A thumping sound of heavy
boots against wooden floor resounded through the hallway. And when it couldn�t
get any louder, it came to a halt.

�What do you send for me for,
father?� The words were calm and neutral yet the last word sounded a little,
though obviously, forced.

A thin middle-aged man,
wearing round spectacles on the tip of his pointed nose, with black hair�some
of the strands were already grey�that was tied into a loose pony tail slowly
turned, his lips wearing a twisted smirk that, although a usual expression for
him, was enough to send a baby crying, for it was so twisted as if he was an
incarnation of the devil, if not the devil himself.

That sly grin widened even
more as he took in the sight of his only son. �Why don�t you sit down first,
Sephiroth?� He offered generously, beckoning for his tall son to sit down on
the bed next to him.

�� The silver haired-man did
as he was told, cat-like green eyes that glowed with a strange light even in
the dark fixed on the man he called �father� intensely. Although his expression
was neutral�almost expressionless�it was very obvious that his relationship
with his father wasn�t ideally pleasant.

Being a war-hero, the most
cherished general of Midgar was one thing but�being the son of an ambitious
physician-appointed-royal counselor was another thing, for if there was anything
he hated more than being mistaken for a girl because of his long, flowing hair,
it was this man.

�How do you feel being called
a live legend, Sephiroth?� The white-clad man asked casually, the grin never
leaving his thin lips. �Does it feel good to be highly honored like a god, hmm?
You know you�re even more honored than Shinra himself. How wonderful is that?� He
mused out loud, amusement dancing behind his black beady eyes as he reached one
skinny hand out to touch Sephiroth�s silky exotic colored-locks, playing with
them as if in fascination. �My�how much you resemble your mother�but your hair
and eyes are always a wonder to me��

Despite Sephiroth�s face
being completely stoic�electric green orbs narrowed slightly as they glared at
the man�s fingers in absolute disdain. �Just get to the business, Hojo.�

As if broken from the trance,
Doctor Hojo looked up at his son�s face with one raised eyebrow and seeing the
built-up anger in those cat-like eyes; he withdrew his hand and shook his head,
still chuckling softly. �No sense of humor at all, have you?� He then turned
back to the parchment he had been reading, lying just a little bit to his right
and picked it up, handing it to his son.

Sephiroth�s brow creased
slightly as he took the parchment, paying with utmost attention not to make any
contact with Hojo�s hand. And as he read the text scribbled on it over and over
as if to make sure if he had read it right, the General finally looked up, a
name that he was once told was just fictional sounding from his parted lips.

�Vincent Valentine?� Quickly
followed was the question that was easily expected. �Isn�t that just a fairy
tale? At least you told me it is��

Hojo now had a cocky smirk
plastered on his face. �I didn�t know you actually listen to me, son.�

Sephiroth frowned, looking as
if he was contemplating a difficult matter. Eventually, he stood up, turning
his back on the sitting man. �Tell Shinra, I shall catch him.� With that he
walked out of the room with grace equaled that of a proud feline, long silvery
hair swaying freely behind him.

The royal counselor watched
his son go with a satisfied look. �This is going to be interesting, my old
friend, Vincent. Very interesting.� He folded the parchment and placed it on
top of the pile on the nearby table, cackling now and then ever so
mischievously.

��

It was late, in the darkest
hour of the waning moon night when ordinary population roamed the land of
slumber and when the nocturnal creatures reached their most favored feast that
an enormous ship emerged from the veil of thick mist in the middle of the
black, black sea.

The ship was an even darker
color built up solely all over with the strongest ebony with a winged demon
statue attached on the front of the hull and the topmast so high as if
challenging the sky decorated with flag the picture of the Cerberus; a three
headed canine that guarded the door to hell. The ragged sails were also of
blackest black.

All in all, it would be easy
for the ship to blend into the veil of darkness if it wasn�t for the cursed name
of the ship that was painted all in crimson:

Chaos.

TBC

That was the prologue for
this story. The next chapters will be longer. And yes, Hojo is always a
bastard. (Though sometimes I think he just has the sickest kind of humor.) It�s
an Alternate Universe but some other things do not change much. Also Vincent
will make his real appearance in the next chapter along with some other
characters.

Review would be greatly
welcomed and appreciated. :)
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