Nullevoy

part-time human, full-time crack writer u can find me on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nullevoy

[nullev0y]

gang i need help, hitting writers block and none of my wips are doing it for me. give me ideas. literally anything goes (besides smut (sorry chat)) thats in the following fandoms:

harry potter

heated rivalry

fulllmetal alchemist

bnha/mha

cod (modern warfare)

hannibal

marvel

[nullev0y]

april writing update

just a quick update on the state of my fics/series as we're nearing the end of april and i haven't posted a fic in a month lmao

Unhinged ilya series

yes im well aware that i havent updated it in like 2 months lmao, but i am still writing for it, it's not abandoned trust. i actually have like an entire fic written for it i just dont like how it's written so i gotta edit the living shit outta it, but there will be a new fic in may

You Have (141) Unread Messages

i also basically have a chapter ready for this, just gotta edit it lmao. probably will update in may as well but can't promise anything

Peregrine

passion project, not that high up on my list but it will be receiving update, not abandoned

Any other wip

any wip i havent mentioned, either abandoned or will rewrite and then repost

stuff im working on

and because i can't stop writing new things i have the following fics/series planned (making no promises though)

a Seer harry potter fic (not that high on the list ngl, just an idea)

a harry potter heated rivalry crossover (planned longfic, pretty high up on my list i have a bunch of ideas for it)

unrelated hr crack that isnt my unhinged ilya series

[nullev0y]

why have the last 10 fics i read been ai. i hate it. and before anyone goes "oh but you cant know for sure", you can tell dude, you can tell. if you've had the displeasure of reading enough ai writing you can absolutely tell. also, ai checkers dont work but if it's giving a 100% smth might just be up 💀

im gonna post a whole ass other rant abb detectors anyway, please stop relying on them to spot ai

ngl i thought this was just a major heated rivalry problem but nope it's all of my fandoms, yippee

it's genuinely taken all joy out of reading for me

[nullev0y]

Hi I just finished your all your current fics for Heated Rivalry and the Moscow Six, and they are absolutely fantastic!!! I’m not sure if you’re still taking suggestions but I’d love to see shane introducing Rose Landry to the Moscow six.

And on a separate side note when Shane and Ilyas relationship go public Ilya introducing all his friends to Shane’s parents because that would be wild imagine the Moscow Six at a bbq. I feel like David may fit in since he works in the government, and may have even met Pashas dad, and may know the Diplomatic Immunity lingo. I can see him saying no no Shane actually they can do that with the right paperwork and maybe some cash just in case 🤣!!

Sorry if this is a lot the idea just came to me after I finished everything and I ran here when I saw you had a tumblr page!! Again I love your fics they made my Friday night and Saturday morning so much better!!

omg thank you <3333 and i've been hearing the pleas of the people about a parent meeting for ages and atp i really need to write it lmao and i have ideas for it. but ngl i totally forgot david works in the gov so that would be sm fun ty so much for this. like imagine david just sitting there unphased going "yeah i've done worse in my collage years, ya kids still have sm to learn"

[nullev0y]

who'd read a realistic exploration of being gay in russia told over a decade through the eyes of ilya rozanov?

[nullev0y]

price sketch, i havent drawn semi realism in ages 😔

[witherfide]

hiding from the enemy in the back of a 7/11

[nullev0y]

Gaz thinks he’s doing Soap a massive favor when he discovers the number of his secret girlfriend, "Simone," and adds her to the top-secret Military WAGs group chat. Unfortunately for Gaz, "Simone" is actually Simon "Ghost" Riley, a 6'3" masked SAS lieutenant. Unfortunately for Soap, Ghost decides not to leave the chat. --- Johnny’s brain, still sluggish from sleep and altitude, buffered. "Who the fuck is Simone?"

I wrote a crack fic about tf141 significant others having a wag group chat. ghost has been added, soap is so dead

[nullev0y]

fic idea what if the tf141 guys each have partners who have a WAG gc (including kate's wife) and ghost unfortunately (for him) gets added to it cause gaz is a snooping bastard and sees a text from a contact name 'Simone ♥️' on soaps phone

[nullev0y]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: John Price & Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick & Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish & Simon "Ghost" Riley, Simon "Ghost" Riley & Task Force 141 Ensemble

Characters: John Price (Call of Duty), Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Kate Laswell

Additional Tags: Simon "Ghost" Riley-centric, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Funny, Simon "Ghost" Riley is a Menace, Simon "Ghost" Riley Being a Little Shit, Tired John Price (Call of Duty), John Price is So Done (Call of Duty), Group Chats, this isn't a text fic

Summary:

"You rigged the fridge," Soap wheezed, his voice cracking. "You booby-trapped the fucking fridge, Simon."

"The refrigeration unit is a critical vulnerability," Ghost replied calmly. He set the teacup down. "It holds our perishable rations. If an enemy infiltrates the perimeter, it is the optimal vector for a biological attack. Poisoning the food supply is page one of the siege manual."

"I wanted cheese!" Soap yelled, finally finding his voice. "I live here! I sleep three doors down! I wasn't trying to poison the unit, I was trying to eat a Babybel!"

Or

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the worst roomate.

[nullev0y]

It was 0315 hours, and Soap really wanted a Babybel cheese.

He didn't want a protein shake. He didn't want an MRE. He wanted the tiny, wax-wrapped circle of synthetic dairy sitting on the middle shelf of the team’s communal fridge.

Soap padded down the hallway in his socks and a pair of loose grey sweatpants. He didn't turn on the overhead lights. He didn’t need to, he could navigate the fifty feet from his bunk to the kitchen completely blindfolded. He moved with practiced, absolute silence. Not a single floorboard creaked. He was a ghost.

Well. A lesser ghost.

He reached the kitchen. The stainless steel of the refrigerator gleamed faintly in the moonlight filtering through the security blinds. Soap reached out, his hand closing around the cool metal of the door handle. He pulled.

Click.

Soap’s brain, trained by years of counter-IED warfare, registered the sound exactly one tenth of a second before the trap deployed. He didn't even have time to swear.

The gap in the fridge door erupted into a localized retinal apocalypse.

It was a non-lethal tactical strobe, engineered to deliver nine million candela directly into the optic nerve. It made no sound.

In other words, Soap was being absolutely fucking blinded by a light so white he for a second thought he had finally reached heaven afteral.

"Jesus wept!" Soap yelled, throwing himself backward.

He hit the linoleum floor hard, scrambling backward like a crab, his hands clamped over his eyes. His retinas were screaming.

"My eyes! I'm blind! I'm actually, permanently blind!" Soap thrashed against the lower cabinets, trying to find his footing. "Base under attack! Gaz, get your rifle!"

Silence.

Soap blinked. The world was a blur of purple and green sunbursts. He was sitting on the cold kitchen floor, hyperventilating.

Then, through the ringing in his ears, he heard it.

The soft, delicate clink of ceramic touching wood.

Soap dragged his hands down his face, squinting through the burning afterimages. In the pitch black of the kitchen, sitting at the small circular dining table, was a massive silhouette.

Ghost was wearing his balaclava and a black tactical fleece. He had his legs crossed at the ankles. In his right hand, he held a floral teacup. He took a slow, deliberate sip.

Soap stared at him, his chest heaving, his brain desperately trying to reboot.

"You didn't check your corners, MacTavish," Ghost said.

"You rigged the fridge," Soap wheezed, his voice cracking. "You booby-trapped the fucking fridge, Simon."

"The refrigeration unit is a critical vulnerability," Ghost replied calmly. He set the teacup down. "It holds our perishable rations. If an enemy infiltrates the perimeter, it is the optimal vector for a biological attack. Poisoning the food supply is page one of the siege manual."

"I wanted cheese!" Soap yelled, finally finding his voice. "I live here! I sleep three doors down! I wasn't trying to poison the unit, I was trying to eat a Babybel!"

Ghost didn't move.

"Your infiltration technique was sloppy," Ghost noted. "You favored your left foot. You dragged your heel on the floor. A cartel sentry would have heard you from the corridor."

"I’m in my own house!" Soap slammed a hand against the cabinet. "Why are you even awake? Why are you just sitting in the dark drinking tea?!"

"To observe the structural integrity of the trap." Ghost took another sip. "It functioned flawlessly. Your reaction time, however, was 0.4 seconds too slow. You would be dead."

Soap slowly pulled his knees to his chest. He rested his forehead against them, taking a deep, shuddering breath. The purple spots in his vision were finally starting to fade, replaced by sheer bone deep exhaustion.

"Simon."

"Sergeant."

"Can I please open the fridge now?"

Ghost sat in silence for a long moment.

"Proceed," Ghost said. "But be advised. The crisper drawer is wired to a localized tear gas canister. Stick to the upper shelves."

Soap didn't even look up. He just sat on the floor, questioning every single life choice that had led him to join the Special Air Service.

[nullev0y]

being a non shipper in a majority shipping random sucks sm. like sure ghoap is cute whatever, i like it, can i just have some good gen fics though. preferably ghost fics without it being 50% soap

[nullev0y]

the crack fairy continues to spread crack to more fandoms.

i present to you: Call of Duty: Domestic Warfare

"You rigged the fridge," Soap wheezed, his voice cracking. "You booby-trapped the fucking fridge, Simon."

"The refrigeration unit is a critical vulnerability," Ghost replied calmly. He set the teacup down. "It holds our perishable rations. If an enemy infiltrates the perimeter, it is the optimal vector for a biological attack. Poisoning the food supply is page one of the siege manual."

"I wanted cheese!" Soap yelled, finally finding his voice. "I live here! I sleep three doors down! I wasn't trying to poison the unit, I was trying to eat a Babybel!"

Or

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the worst roomate.

(yeah it's that spider excerpt fic)

[nullev0y]

Ghost is either the worst or best roommate ever (and Gaz is scared of spiders)

Kyle Garrick was a reasonable man. That’s why when he saw a huntsman spider roughly the size of a tea saucer chilling in the upper corner of the shower, he didn't scream. No, he was a military man after all, a sergeant. Sergeants don’t scream at spiders. Instead, he just quietly backed out, found his six-foot-two, emotionally stunted lieutenant sharpening a combat knife in the kitchen, and said, "Hey, Simon. There's a spider in the bathroom. Take care of it, yeah?”

Ghost hadn't said a word. He just stood up, set the knife down, and walked silently down the hall.

Gaz assumed that meant he was going to hit it with a shoe.

That was two hours ago.

Gaz now stood in the hallway, holding a fresh towel and desperately needing to take a piss. He reached for the bathroom door handle. It didn't turn.

"Simon?" Gaz knocked. "You done in there?"

Silence.

Gaz knocked harder. "Simon, come on. I need a slash."

"Negative."

The voice came from the two-way comms radio clipped to Gaz's chest rig, which was currently sitting on the floor of his bedroom. Gaz sighed, walked into his room, grabbed the radio, and walked back into the hallway.

"What do you mean, negative?" Gaz pressed the push-to-talk button. "Did you kill it?"

"Target is evasive," Ghost's voice crackled back. It was muffled.

Gaz stared at the wood grain of the door. "Evasive? It's a spider, mate. It doesn't have a tactical evasion strategy. Just step on it."

"It possesses eight legs, Garrick. It has superior vertical mobility and a no thermal signature. It has utilized the ventilation shaft to break visual contact. It is currently operating in the blind spots."

Gaz dropped his head against the door. "Simon. What are you on about, mate? Please. Just open the door."

"The door is secured to prevent a breach. The corridor is no longer safe."

"IT’S A BUG."

There was a sharp, metallic click from the other side of the door.

"I have established a perimeter," Ghost stated calmly over the radio. "I am currently running a laser-sighted thermal sweep of the ceiling grid. I have retrofitted the showerhead to dispense concentrated, military-grade permethrin. If the target breaches the tiles, I will flood 

the room."

Gaz took a step back. He looked at the bottom of the door frame. A thick layer of duct tape had been meticulously applied to the gap, sealing the room completely airtight.

"Are you wearing a gas mask?" Gaz asked, his voice filled with so much Incredulity that for a moment he thought he had after all passed out after seeing the spider and was now stuck in a concussion-induced fever dream.

"CBRN protocol is active," Ghost confirmed. "The air is toxic. Do not attempt a rescue."

"I am not trying to rescue you! I am trying to use the toilet!"

"The porcelain fixture is compromised. The target was last seen descending behind the water tank. It is using guerrilla tactics."

Gaz rubbed his eyes. He imagined his lieutenant, a Tier-1 special forces operative, standing in a bathtub in full MOPP gear, tracking a house spider with a thermal scope. He felt a vein throb in his temple.

"Simon, I am going to count to three," Gaz said. "If you do not open this door, I am going to get Soap, and we are going to blow this door off its hinges with C4."

"MacTavish does not have the clearance to enter a contested zone."

"IT'S A TOILET."

"It’s Sector 4," Ghost corrected him. "And Sector 4 is currently hostile. Relocate to the command block latrines. Radio silence."

The comms clicked off.

Gaz stood in the hallway for a full minute. He listened carefully. From the other side of the door, he heard the faint, high-pitched hum of a thermal camera zooming in, followed by the terrifying, pressurized HISS of chemical repellant being deployed like mustard gas.

Gaz slowly lowered his radio. He turned around, walked out the front door of the barracks, and began the cold, half-mile trek to the command block. He decided he was never asking Ghost for a favor ever again.

[nullev0y]

real talk would anyone be interesting in a fullmetal and cod crossover? like found family style w lots of angst. mayhaps ghost having to deal with a 16yo brat w the rank of Major

[nullev0y]

I have written the first chapter Edward is sm fun to write i love this little dude

[nullev0y]

unhinged simon ghost riley headcanons

reboot ghost with og backstory

he has a specific, pristine skull mask reserved solely for formal military functions. it has a tiny, very subtle bowtie painted right beneath the jawbone. price is the only one who has noticed, and he refuses to bring it up

his skin is flawlessly moisturized beneath the mask. he uses a 10-step korean skincare routine because "roba took my family, he’s not taking my pores."

because he was literally buried alive ghost absolutely refuses to use sleeping bags. when the 141 camps out, he just stands in the corner of the tent like a sleep paralysis demon until the sun comes up

he plays animal crossing on a heavily encrypted nintendo switch. his island is called "The Boneyard," but it is entirely decorated in pastel pink cherry blossom items

the most rabid looking stray cats in whatever warzone they deploy to will immediately flock to him. he names them all after weapons and smuggles them MRE cheese

soap constantly tries to jumpscare ghost to prove he's human. ghost, who has the situational awareness of a paranoid bat, always knows he's there. he just lets soap jump out of a closet, stares at him for five uncomfortable seconds, says "Solid form, MacTavish," and walks away

[nullev0y]

ok we get it unhinged ilya, but have you considered unhinged shane? how about theatre kid shane? yk the shit hudson gets up to? yeah that but it's just teenage shane thinking he had to have a carreer backup plan. and now he can cry on command