Neapolitan_Amo
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Summary
Neil Josten is the famous adoptive son of professional Exy coach, David Wymack and a pretty boy with drinking issues. Following multiple drunken arrests and publicity mishaps, Wymack assigns Neil to be watched over by one of his star players who is the only person tough and reckless enough to truly keep him in line: Andrew Minyard.
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"So, we're getting two more backliners?" Andrew's voice came from the entrance, his mocking grin making it difficult to tell what his medicated mind actually thought about the topic.
"No." With Andrew on the goal, they only needed one trustworthy backliner. Kevin's injured hand hindered him on the offense, and Seth… that one was out of salvation. They needed support on the attack, someone fast with good aim and more bold than any other player in the league... "One striker and one backliner."
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Neil never ran away from Edgar Allen.
This changes everything.
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It's been years since he saw the boy at the park. One day he was there and the next he was gone. But Andrew recognizes him nevertheless. Bright auburn hair and chilling blue eyes, fire and ice. Only now he's wearing a black jersey and he's glued to Riko's side.
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Andrew and Neil meet as kids, but before the foxes find Neil Josten, the Ravens do.
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A very, very dark story about Raven Neil. How he was conditioned as a child, but part of him always rebelled against it.
A lot of things unfold differently than in canon.
In this version, Neil is THE best striker, and Riko hates him for it.
Side notes: In my story, Riko is not the main villain. He is a minor wannabe antagonist, a cheap imitation of the kind Nathaniel grew up and live with. (But still gruel)
Update: the story takes place in the Nest until chapter 26.
Also, Andrew is not medicated and the relationship with Aaron is better than in canon.
!!! Nathan & Mary are alive here !!!If you’re looking for a story that pushes Neil to his absolute physical and psychological limits, only to show him he still has the right to a life of his own, you’ve come to the right place.
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His father would have given him away for free if pride had allowed it. But the Moriyamas valued transactions, contracts. Business. Everything had a prince.
Even children.
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Andrew doesn’t care. Doesn’t look. He flicks the last of his cigarette out the window as the engine hums and the car rolls onto the street. All he knows are two addresses and a name – Moriyama - and that’s enough. One regular spot each day. One person. From A to Z. Keep it simple. Keep it clean.
The silence doesn’t last.
“Isn’t the passenger supposed to request silence, not the driver?”
Andrew says nothing still. Keeps his eyes on the road. Keeps his hands on the wheel.
“This is going to impact your Uber rating, I hope you know,” the kid adds after a beat.
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Uber pays shit, so Andrew takes a private driving job. It should be easy money, some posh lycra wearing daddy's girl, right?
Ah no. It's a red haired demon who's hiding some secrets.