Title: The Baddest

Description: Being promised to a family of Alpha males throws Zexion into a load of conflicting problems, can he really trust this Alpha male to care for him?

Chapter 1: The Fake, the Ugly, and the Cameras

A/N: This is a scrap idea, nothing I'm going to take too serious. Review, follow, fav.

"Are you hearing me?" Tifa scolded, grabbing her little brother's chin to force him to look at her narrowed eyes, pointedly judging him with her pupils scanning up and down his uniform. She was no less than dissatisfied with what she just heard and got over the lecture she firmly placed into his memory. But when she saw his lost gaze yearning to see clearly through the tinted windows, irritation bubbled in her chest.

Zexion released a sigh through his nose and gently detached her fingers. "I'm not doing it. Please don't make me, I don't need the attention." Tifa's lips formed a thin line.

She placed a delicate palm on his arm, "I'm not doing it for the attention. I'm doing it because you're my little brother and I love you."

A roll of the eyes, "Thanks for the love, but the Baddest Female shouldn't be walking with normal people, much less me."

"I'm going to force you." She growled; her pretty, long tail curling in agitation.

Zexion's head whipped from its position resting on his knuckles and he stared his sister dead in the eyes, accusing her with her own declaration and kitten ears pressing against his skull. "You mean just like how you forced me into this car?" He received a look from the driver through the rear view, probably because he wasn't using honorifics like he was taught to do as the driver looked to be in his fifties under his black cap. But were they not also taught not to force people into cars? Zexion remembers a very lengthy speech on not trusting—ironically—shady characters (as his sister was wearing thick sunglasses) or get into their car with chauffeurs.

"Exactly how I did it, and I am walking you to class Zexion Fey." Zexion almost despised the way she laced his name with a motherly tint.

As he was about to step foot outside of his home and walk to school, he was grabbed from the bushes and his stomach found purchase on a broad shoulder. That broad shoulder belonging to no other than the frail looking sister sitting next to him with her slim legs crossed. She had carried his squirming body across the yard and tossed him into the sleek limousine waiting for the famous Tifa's departure. It was very shocking and Zexion was at a loss of forming coherent words, so he settled for screaming his head off and aimlessly slapping at the acrylic claws digging into his clothes, and his wailing face met with the fabric of her expensive backpack. The prized souvenir was brought home after Tifa had returned from France and bore gifts that looked to cost as much as the Eiffel Tower.

Zexion melted out of his cold demeanor and clasped his sister's tender fingers in between his sweaty palms. Conjuring up a look that would have her like jelly with his plump lips jutting out with a quivering bottom and glossy, almost on the verge of tears, owl eyes looking up at her, Zexion was ready to beg.

And beg he did, with his self-respect thrown out of the limousine's window.

"Oh please Tifa neesan, have mercy and spare me! Please, please, please! I promise to ride with you from now on, just please leave me at the entrance." The sound of his voice was frail and quivering as it barely past the expectations of a pleading whimper, and he got down onto his knees on the floor of the car. It was worth a shot to maybe urge a tiny ounce of mercy from his protective sister, but the glower of her queen-like cheetah aura spelled other ways.

"No," She said sharply and withdrew her hand, placing it delicately on her thin waist, "This is for your own good. Already there is one semester behind us and I have yet to see what classes you have." Zexion opened his lips to voice his displeasure but a soft finger was placed over them and she disregarded her whiny brother. "I know, don't worry I won't be late for my classes. I just want to meet your friends and properly greet your teachers."

That was a problem and Zexion slumped onto the floor even more at the word 'friends'. He didn't have any. Not that he hadn't tried to be friendly, because he has tried, but every conversation or attempt to be friends ended with him getting plowed with questions about Tifa, and he found it very annoying. They wanted to know everything and anything about his sister and what the Tifa did in her free time, what she was like at home, how she acted away from the cameras, it was all burdensome.

Zexion didn't like the attention. It wasn't earnest interest in him, they just wanted information for their own greedy uses and Zexion was not naive enough to not know the dangers behind it. Fans could arrive at their house—not like they already haven't—but they could have some bad intentions towards his sister. They could try to kill her! And Zexion did not want to be responsible for the death of his loving guardian.

Tifa cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, calmly combing her fingers through her hair and sticking her black ears high in the air. With her attention pointed forwards, she directed to him calmly, "Now, sit in your seat and buckle yourself in. You're not escaping by flying out the window."

That actually did not sound too bad as Zexion climbed onto the leather and allowed his sister's controlling hands to whip the belt across his chest. She was going to do it anyway, Zexion knew it, so he just let her shove his limbs around like he was a rag doll she was dressing to look all nice and pretty so she could shelter him again in his glass case. His dull eyes representing the lifeless buttons of a doll as his inevitable fate neared through the window. If only he could throw himself out of the door before they were too close for people to notice him.

Tifa licked her fingers and brushed away some loose strands of his hair before petting him lovingly; reassuring him that she still loved him. And Zexion had the sudden urge to purr against her larger hand.

No! He scolded mentally, you are angry at her! Stupid kitten instincts.

Having an idol as a sibling had its perks, but Zexion mainly focused on the negatives when school was involved. It all felt too fake. When the fans would gather, screaming and confessing their love to his sister with the blinding flashes and the shoving of one another to get a closer look, Zexion always frowned, deeply. They didn't know his sister; they couldn't even come close to comprehending the nature behind her bad girl stage.

Behind all of the cameras and the makeup and crazy outfits, Tifa was a mom-type girl. She would not leave Zexion to himself as she catered him through his homework, helped him with dinner, and made sure to bundle him with blankets when it was time for him to sleep. Yes, she even assigned him a bedtime, and it was very strict.

Those entire crowds of people only saw the baddest chick on the face of the planet, and that loser kid that just so happened to be related to her.

The driver cleared his throat and gave a warning look through the rear view and Zexion flattened his cheek against the glass of the window, pressing to catch a glimpse of the iron gates nearing. His fight or flight sense kicked in and he looked around for any type of escape. Of course he wouldn't fight his sister; it was obvious she would win. Most of the rumors about her weren't true, but a few still stood as true as the day.

The door to exit the back seat was on his sister's side, so she had planned this?

The breaks were pressed all too soon and Zexion could not lift a finger before a slim arm reached around his waist and almost ripped the seat belt off the frame of the car. His elbow was grabbed and Tifa already had her stiletto clad foot out of the door, the fans screaming and the flashing of cameras infiltrating the dim atmosphere. The edges of his leather seat were gripped tightly as his knuckles turned a pale shade of white and he shook his head, dismantling the stylish hairdo his sister had made up for him.

"Baby brother, you are coming with me whether you like it or not," She all but growled and only needed to tug once for Zexion to fly out of the vehicle. "Smile," She cooed, running her long fingers through his hair to fix the damage.

The shyness and fright built like blocks in the pit of Zexion's stomach and he froze like an ice cube. A hush washed over the crowd as he was revealed with Tifa caring for him lovingly. No, this wasn't his sister anymore, after she had slapped off her sister-mode she became—what Zexion learned to dread—the superstar Tasha.

The little she had shown of out-of-character Tasha had the crowd screaming for more and marveling at the few pictures the lucky ones got of the sparkle behind the gloss of her eyes. After Tifa had disappeared, the cold exterior of Tasha formed like a suit of armor and his sister stood with a higher stance, bored eyes, and a firm grip on his arm.

"Good morning, everyone." She greeted with a slight bow of her head and made Zexion do the forty-five degree bow by shoving his head down.

The fans responded with a sound wave of different greetings and grabby hands aiming for her school uniform. With the flutter of her skirt and the way she filled out her blouse, many of the guys reached for a feel while the girls swooned with wishes of being like her.

Tasha tugged for Zexion to follow as the small crowd parted like a wave for her to make her way to the front doors, and the mass following shortly behind while shoving cameras and phones in their faces.

"Zexion ah," the surprise was evident in his eyes as he had never been called like that in public, "where's your first class?" Maybe she really was going for a change.

A change Zexion didn't want.

"Neesan, you do not have to walk me." In public, he stuck with the honorifics and gently shook himself from her hold, which she—surprisingly—complied. "I can make it by myself."

"Tasha! Tasha! Tasha!" She could barely hear him over the shouting of her stage name in their ears, almost completely drowning out her little brother.

Tifa glanced down at him like she had almost no interest in him, "Should we ask the Main Secretary then if you've forgotten?"

Zexion couldn't force away the twitching behind his eye as he caught on to what she was doing and they were conveniently standing in front of the Main Office. If she wanted to play against him in front of a mass of screaming fans, then Zexion had a few tricks hidden up his sleeves. A twinkle of fighting spirit sparkled behind Zexion's irises and he calmly placed a soft palm of his sister's forearm. From a distance, it looked like they were having a friendly conversation between two siblings and no one could hear them over the chants of Tasha, Tasha, and Tasha…

But there was a fire brewing behind their smiles.

"No neesan, I haven't forgotten. And you shouldn't forget about your fans, they are calling for you." Her neck tensed and she sucked in a short breath as she saw the menace behind that trained heart-shaped smile. She taught him how to smile like that. A subtle squeeze to her arm put a bad taste in her mouth and Zexion released her. "Have a good day, neesan." And he gave her that chance to shortly view his adorable eye scrunch before he departed with quick strides to get as far away from that section of the school, and he all but jogged around the corner.

Pride swelled in his chest as he walked through the door of his classroom finally away from that disaster, but it quickly deflated and was replaced by a fear of the pair of eyes he had forgotten would be burning holes through him. A surge of heat rolled from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes and he clenched at the hem of his jacket.

Despite it being Science class and they were noses deep in Zexion's absolute most favorite subject, he dreaded first period with a burning passion with the need to flee the scene like Jerry with Tom hot on his ass. It was like the back of his jacket was on fire and he wanted to run down the hallway screaming like a banshee for someone to help him and get him as far away from that class as possible. Maybe travel to the other side of the Earth and shoot him through cannons into space where he would only be surrounded by the stars. And maybe crash land on the moon and spend the rest of his short, gasping minutes loving the distance.

Once again, Zexion loved the class.

He just hated what was inside of it.

Or who was inside of it.

Zexion walked to his seat which was so conveniently placed in front of this particular who and ducked his head and forced himself to think of playing with his fingers than the slowly impending doom emitting from the seat behind him. There still were a few minutes before the instructor would enter and the students had flown through the door to marvel at the heels of Zexion's sister, leaving him all alone with Satan's spawn to childishly play with the short strands on the back of his nape.

The newness of his hair probably intrigued his known tormentor as he lazily picked and twirled his fingers through the wavy strands of his sister's efforts. In all honesty, these words even came from Tifa's mouth, he looked younger, like a little boy with jet black waves framing his face and almost out-growing his chin. The fringe above his eyes covered his brows and right eye, making his blue irises look bigger than normal. Adorable, Tifa had squealed with her trusty tools at her side. Zexion had to strictly disagree for the sake of his manliness.

A large palm raked its way to rest at the top of his scalp, teasingly playing with his twitching ears, and warm huffs of breathing tickled against the strands next to his cheek. "Such a cutie today, Zexion?"

Goddammit.

Demyx motherfucking Leonhart.

This bastard was always playing with him.

"Leave me alone." Zexion leaned forward to move away from the grabby hands, but his efforts were wasted as his narrow shoulders were grabbed and his back slammed against the back of his seat.

"Nu uh, you aren't going anywhere." Demyx teased into his ear. Zexion could bet he was bending over his desk to put the effort into playing with him, leaning forward with that (evil) trademark smirk on his plump lips. "Zexy~" He felt a ball of bile push up his stomach at the way his name was whined in a very annoying manner. "Play with me, Zexy~…"

His response was smacking the hands that held him down and completely ignoring the irritating brat pawing at his jacket for attention. Nope, he would not allow today to be one of those days where he was at the mercy of the world's biggest asshole with the fattest of chances where his sister would see and take action. God forbid him having to be saved by a fragile female who could beat any grown man's ass without breaking a nail, and then getting pet like he was a helpless victim. All manliness along with his life would be burned to the ground and Zexion shuddered at the horrible scene.

The thoughts had him too wrapped up in his fingers and shudders of being the laughingstock of the whole word, indefinitely his name would spread like a wildfire, and he did not notice the shadow casting doom onto his shoulders. Demyx had moved from his seat soundlessly and pranced himself to sit on Zexion's desk with his head in his palm and staring down at the daydreaming boy, not making a move to let his presence be known. It was only until he smelled dull cologne that Zexion noticed the person blocking the lights and he jerked in his seat. A smile made its way onto the tanned boy's plush lips, solely out of amusement from the reaction he was hoping to get, and he playfully pet Zexion. The shorter unconsciously pouted and swatted at the hand that swatted back like this was all a game.

"Zexy, do you like pictures?"

Too preoccupied with clawing and hissing at the hand going for his head, Zexion paused and mumbled a "Huh?" like the idiot he was.

Demyx's smile split wider, "I asked if you like pictures, because I do." While he distracted Zexion with his one hand petting his feather soft locks, his other dug into his pocket for his phone. He scrolled through his camera after unlocking the screen and his expression grew brighter when he found what he was looking for. "I especially like this one."

Zexion's had to stop his attempts to bite off Demyx's fingers to gawk at the picture displayed in front of his widened eyes.

Zexion liked Science class, but not all the time or everyday as some of the material was stuff he already knew, so sometimes he would occupy himself with something else. The picture showed one of the many examples of his short-lived escapades from the droning teacher and his tongue stilled in his mouth as the caption struck him like a sucker punch to the jaw. Below the sentence 'So precious' was a very pouty Zexion with his hands in his lap. From the angle, the screen of his phone was noticeable with a display of the game Angry Birds, and it flashed his losing score. The defeated slump of his shoulders barely masked the glisten of unshed tears the light perfectly reflected and the crease of his brows made him look like he was a bratty five year old.

"Look at you; being so adorable in the middle of class," Demyx almost squealed, almost, "can you pout for me again?"

That was absurd and the shorter brunette was still recovering from shock as the request slipped through one ear and out the other to fly away with the wind. "H-How," he gulped, "did you get that picture?"

Zexion was sure he knew the answer. It had to be someone next to him since Demyx sat behind him and the angle was shown by his side, so, unless he stretched to impossible lengths in the middle of class for a single picture, he knew he had some help. To his left usually sat a faceless student that never bothered anyone, who was currently out swooning over Tifa, and he was never seen with other students. So it couldn't have been him, Zexion concluded. To his right was Axel, normally. A student the same age as Demyx, who had many classes with Demyx, sits with Demyx at lunch, and is widely known as Demyx's best friend.

Demyx shrugged. "A friend."

Something like acid boiled in Zexion and the sudden urge to blow like a volcano pushed against the cages of his ribs like the pounding of his tender heart. Without thinking, Zexion swiped his foot against the leg of the desk and it toppled under the weight of the boy sitting on the surface. Demyx back pedaled his arms in an attempt to balance himself but the missing leg of the desk tilted him and he leaned dangerously close to the desk behind him. His hands flew in all directions to grab at something to save him, but Zexion smacked away the fingers that plucked at his jacket and felt a pool of satisfaction collect as Demyx's head slammed against the chair behind him. A sickening crack fed Zexion's pride and he smirked down at the crumbled form of his tormentor, limbs tangled in his desk and the desk and chair in front of him.

But during his fury, he had failed to notice the squeals of fans slowly approaching the classroom, or his sister standing in the doorway with her jaw almost unhinged from the rest of her face. Luck would have it that she had only witness the scene of Zexion knocking over his long-time bully and the crowd had slowly spilled into the classroom to share her shock.

"Zexion!" She shrieked.

"Tifa neesan, what are you doing here?"

Tifa marched over to his seat, the clicking of her heels spelling his death with each step. "I came to find you, but instead I find you knocking your friend unconscious."

"He's not my—"

"How could you?! What has he done so horribly to you that he deserved something like this?"

"Neesan, you're causing a scene."

"And you're grounded," A collective gasp rolled through the crowd with some 'Ohhs' and 'Ahhs', "you are grounded and I expect you home straight after school, no exceptions."

As if the situation couldn't have gotten any worse, the teacher decided to make her entrance through the mass of onlookers and she calmly cleared her throat in all her tight suit, pointy-toe heeled pride. "I'm sorry, but I think he will be a little late going home after spending some time in detention with me." A whine trembled in his throat and the base of his palms pushed against his eye sockets.

"Pick up your head," Tifa growled like she owned the gates of hell and he had no choice but to do as she said when he heard the promise of pain through her curses. "I have no problem with you being in detention for as long as it takes. You, Zexion Fey, are in a lot of trouble and you are going to turn your phone in right this second before I make an even bigger scene." She hissed so low it had a fat shiver rolling down all their spines and he shakily handed over his phone with which she nearly clawed his fingers off when she snatched it away. The teacher looked impressed with her ability to scold, but Tifa was only skimming the waters and later Zexion knew he was in for boiling hell.

The teacher turned her attention to the crowd, "Can someone please take this young man to the nurse?"

Axel emerged from the crowd, taller than all of the guys and towering over the girls as he picked Demyx from the cluster of school supplies and slung an arm over his shoulder to usher him out of the room. Zexion did not miss the very heated glare pointed at him as the two left and a hush washed over the half of the school that was either recording him getting brutally scolded by his sister and teacher, or (the girls) giggling at his shame. By the time the bell had long since rung and the crowd had dispersed and the students had returned to their seats, Tifa spat one last curse before marching her way out the door with her slim arms crossed over her busty chest.

"I am so disappointed in you."

Zexion was fully ready to let the tears flow and bawl his eyes out as the towering form of his sister glowered down at him like he was worth no more than a piece of trash. Throughout the rough lecture he only bit at the tender flesh of his bottom lip that was swollen and raging a nasty red from the effort he put into not bursting into sobs. Tifa had never said she was disappointed in him, never. When he accidently killed her cat, she only cried but never said anything about his forgetfulness of feeding her precious Mr. Fluffypants. If he got a bad grade from skipping out on studying to hang out with a group of kids that rarely nagged him, only a frown would show her anger before she stalked away, cursing. He wanted to cry out Neesan, neesan! Please forgive me! But he was reminded with the presence of his fellow classmates and remained unsocial.

But the truth behind those words as she left everyone speechless, having Zexion a panicky mess of worries—it felt like a thousand daggers to his heart. Those words hurt more than when he had broken his arm falling out of his bedroom window trying to sneak out (which was a very failed attempt). It hurt to know that he had fallen so low as to no longer be acknowledged behind her blind fury, and he was the center of shameful attention as class started.

And that shame stuck throughout the school day like a fat leech sucking the life out of him and his efforts were rewarded with the occasional shove or bully pinning him against the lockers when the teachers weren't looking to deliver a fist to his stomach. As the loyal mass of the school, many students were infuriated with Zexion who dared to cause harm to their precious King (as they so loved to call him) and the promise of much pain burned like a blazing mess in their eyes. Eyes stalked him as he walked through the halls, murmurs and whispers of gossips rolled with insults and Zexion could bet they were talking about the video of him. Yes, that video of his shameful experience and he was ruthlessly mocked with fake crying and girls coming up to him to pet him on the head, telling him it wasn't too late to save his scrotum. It could have already gone viral, but he didn't know as his phone was taken away by a fuming sister.

But suspicions bloomed and blossomed as the week progressed. Not once had he seen Demyx or Axel, or any of the others that made up the group of attractive Prince followers under their King and Zexion felt something like a knowing thought clot in his throat. Call it a spazzing twitch of his sixth sense, but he felt eyes creeping on him all the time. Behind the scenes, Demyx had to be holding a meeting with his league of Evil Avengers as they mapped out Zexion's slow and painful downfall. They were planning something, something that would cause Zexion just as much—if not, more—pain and they would make sure to stream it worldwide.

Worldwide. God forbid if anyone told Tifa.

Exactly two minutes after leaving class to head for the detention hall to meet the instructor for the third time that week, a large calloused hand gripped onto the collar of his jacket. Zexion released a (very unmanly) squeak as his feet flew from the sturdy floor and he grunted when the wind was knocked out of him. A very toned and broad shoulder was what his stomach was mounted on and a muscular arm wrapped around him to keep him steady on the person. His first thought was that his sister was determined to take him home, but then shook that thought out of his head as they moved deeper into the school. Maybe towards the way of the auxiliary or main gymnasium, Zexion thought. The feel of the muscles moving under his stomach felt weird to him and he tried to twist around to get a look at his kidnapper.

"Stop moving, or else I'm going to drop you."

Zexion gasped as the man's point was accented when he hitched Zexion further in his grasp, shifting him into a very uncomfortable position where he found it difficult to breath with his tummy pressed firmly against the muscle. God, what did this monster eat? Did he work out twenty-four-seven because Zexion feared if he flexed, the pressure would crush him into little dust particles and he would fly away like a breeze. That actually did not sound too bad since it would beat being kidnapped by a creeper. But that voice…

"Seifer?! Man, let me down, I'm going to suffocate!"

" .Do. Demyx wants you especially today after thinking this whole week, and he's getting pretty tired of thinking. Plus, this way there's no interference with getting you there since he has stuff to do after school."

"Like what?! Pick the hair out of his asshole! That's real nice and all, but I suggest you let me down right now or else I'm telling Tidus!"

Ah, Tidus. It takes a diva to know a diva, and Zexion was no diva. It just so happened he had him for a lab partner and he had the solemn pleasure to receive his personality full force. The boy has some spunk to him with the way he walked, talked, and snapped his pretty little fingers in your face. On the outside, he looks like an adorable young puppy with aspirations and enough beauty to rival Beyonce with his painted eyes. But on the inside, he was sassier than a bottle of hot sauce and Zexion knew he would not appreciate the fact that his boyfriend was aiding in Zexion's death.

"He already knows."

Apparently, he does.

Zexion growled and punched the bicep around his middle. "Fucking pushover."

Seifer responded with grabbing the back of his jacket and hauling him off of his shoulder, quite rudely as he dropped Zexion on the polished floor. Zexion landed with a thud on his backside and a hiss bubbled through his throat as he clenched his fists, glaring the fires of hell up at the giant who carelessly handled him.

He opened his mouth to give the jerk a piece of his mind, but it slapped shut as another spoke behind him.

"Glad you could make it."

Before any sort of insult could slip like a hiss through Zexion, he found himself being lifted again. This time the elevation wasn't as high and he watched the retreating form of the brute that first carried him leave through the doors. Demyx stepped away in the direction Zexion could assume the locker rooms were, and panic flooded like vomit in his stomach. Oh god, was he really going to beat him? It was a plausible chance, but that never lessened the intensity he clutched at the back of Demyx's school shirt.

"Hey! I'm not just something you could carry around as you would like! I have somewhere to be thanks to your stupid ass!"

Demyx scoffed and Zexion could feel the roll of his eyes. "Oh yeah? Like, where?"

"Try detention, dumbass," He grumbled and his nails penetrated the fabric of the clothing, and a soft hiss was heard next to his hip.

Demyx hitched him further into his grasp and slapped the inside of his thigh. "Hey, easy on the nails, I'm going to bleed or something."

"I hope you do and die."

Just like Seifer did, Demyx grabbed the back of his jacket and slammed his backside onto the bench in the showers and he swallowed the shriek of pain. If these bastards had any sense of consideration then hell would freeze over and Zexion would be lying if he told them to go burn in the deepest pits.

"You're an asshole." He flinched away from his slowly leaning face and responded to the smirk with bared incisors and a hiss, growling in displeasure.

"This is no way to treat your future master."