#gaz mask

[beny6666]

[play-my-game]

[carbone14]

Masque à gaz Mickey Mouse - 1940's

©US Army Chemical Museum

Le 7 janvier 1942, un mois après l'attaque des japonais sur Pearl Harbor, Le propriétaire de la société Sun Rubber Company T.W. Smith Jr et son assistant Dietrich Rempel, présentent un modèle de masque à gaz 'Mickey Mouse' au Major Général William N. Porter Chef du service de la guerre chimique. Le masque destiné aux enfants sera fabriqué sous licence Walt Disney. Le design définitif du masque sera réalisé par Walt Disney.

[game-of-kinks]

Masque à gaz - Toutes les cartes sont dispo sur @tire-une-carte Bon jeu !

[blackwings88-photography]

[temeyes]

'eepy lieutenant

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N: I'm at that very special age where I only have one thing on my mind Soap: Masked men? Y/N: Homicide Y/N: But yeah masked men too

[giotanner]

Sergeant John "Soap" Mactavish and Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - demolition expert bros!

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(Every reblog helps me a lot! I am pretty new in the fandom)

[b1rds3ye]

Mask On

How the boys react to their new ally who is more adamant on wearing their mask than Ghost himself.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except shorter than Ghost)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1 (~0.8 each)

Warning: Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of Reader potentially having insecurities, Not Proof Read

A/N: You know what maybe I want to be the badass masked character 😤

Captain John Price

The captain is thorough, and he immediately knew something was up when he looked up your file only to be greeted with no photo. He’s honestly a little peeved that his rank doesn’t grant him this confidential information, he’s known Simon before he took up the mask so this is the first time he’s genuinely had a faceless ally

But ultimately, as long as he can trust that you’ll be following orders, he doesn’t care if you have a mask or not. But his concern is only that for a fellow soldier

It takes a little longer for him to warm up to you - facial expressions tell a lot about someone’s character. He’s a bit prickly around you, he learns about you indirectly with how you interact with the rest of the 141

But over time there’s a shift. He can’t pinpoint when exactly but the sight of your mask relaxes him. After days separated on a mission, high stakes and adrenaline has Price snapping his head at the faintest of foreign sounds. But upon the familiar sight of your signature mask, he feels at ease

Price is fiercely protective of you and your mask. He likens it to his hat, only far more important - that mask is part of your identity and he knows just how important a soldier’s psyche is. If the enemy manages to take off your mask, he’ll stop at nothing to get it back on your behalf, even if you reluctantly tell him to abandon it

If he can’t salvage your mask, Price has now made it a habit to carry a balaclava for you in one of his pockets. If that’s not available, he’ll even offer you his hat, tipping it down far enough to obscure your eyes

Off duty he finds himself staring at your visage more these days. Looking at how the mask curves over your features, or the small slivers of skin that reveal themselves. He catches himself before you notice but he’s still disappointed in himself, he feels like a Victorian-era prude hyperventilating at the sight of an ankle

“Looking fresh, sergeant.”

You let out an audible chortle at Price’s words. The last mission was a success but at great costs, one of them being your mask damaged beyond repair during melee combat. Your face still wasn’t revealed, but slashes against fabric embedded with dirt and ash have made your signature mask look unrecognisable. Immediately upon returning to base and after debriefing, you were out of commission until you could don a new mask.

Price would be lying if said he didn’t miss your presence for the last few days, hiding away from the rest of the soldiers in base. He has no doubt you’ve still maintained your training and visiting the infirmary for mandatory checkups, but he’s gotten far too used to you being at his beck and call. The famed sight of your mask is no longer in his periphery, giving a nod of approval (not that he ever needed your approval, but he does enjoy your attention).

And now here you are with a new mask, the highlights glowing under the overhead lights and the darks swallowing up the lightwaves like an animal starved. Your updated look had you noticeably confident, shoulders square and head tall.

“Thanks, Captain.”

He can hear your smile and he ends up sitting next to you. Did he need to sit so close? No, but he acts as though his thigh brushing against yours was pure coincidence.

“What are you going to do with the old one?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, giving a light pat to a pocket in your cargo pants that your past mask currently resides in. “I know there’s a lot of memories in this… it’s my first mask… but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I’ll keep it.”

You look at him. Price now has the uncanny ability to read your mood purely through your body language. From the speed at which you turn your head, the inclination of the neck, how your shoulders slant, he’s surprised that such a vicious soldier can act so endearingly in these moments.

“For what?”

“Safekeeping,” he says simply. “I’m proud of my soldiers, sergeant - want to remember their accomplishments.”

You shrug in agreement and fish your mask out of your pocket. You don’t need to know how much Price truly values you, how having your mask will be like having a part of you by his side to motivate him when he’s working alone.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You’ve got a mask? Cool, so does he. Simon really doesn’t care when he first met you. He offers a simple nod of acknowledgement to you and then it’s all mission talk. If anything, the mask makes him respect you more, like him it’s always the masked ones who’ve seen shit and can get shit done

Even before you two became friends, you two were often paired together for operations. Perhaps it was just assumed the two masked people were on the same wavelength and to be fair, they were right. It didn’t take long for Ghost to admire your prowess on the battlefield

However as the two of you start to get closer, Simon gets a bit of a eureka moment. So this is how all his allies feel when trying to get along with a masked figure, unable to see any of their expressions. Oh how the tables have turned. It’s not daunting for him, more just amusing

He knows the struggles of having a mask so he helps out where he can. He reminds you if it’s been some time since you last washed your mask (advice he does not follow himself) and he’ll offer you some of his obsidian powder he uses to obscure any uncovered patches of skin

Price often has the two of you accompany him for interrogations, he calls it “mask pressure”. There’s nothing more terrifying to a target than having two imposing faceless figures standing on either side of them, unreadable and unpredictable

It’s clear you don’t want to show your face to anyone and Simon doesn’t question it. His natural curiosity is not worth your discomfort and he makes that abundantly clear. If on the rare occasion you catch him without a mask, he’ll sometimes put it back on so that you don’t have to be the only one with their face covered

If your mask is ever compromised, Simon covers you with his hulking figure. No one dares get on the bad side of Ghost who shoots the most terrifying glares towards anyone looking in his - and consequently your - way. He stands in front of you, back rigid and shoulders square, his posture only slacking if he feels you hold onto his back, seeking comfort

A few weeks ago, when left in a briefing, you finally noticed Simon was staring at you from across the room. He had been staring for a good while now, but you - ever the diligent soldier - were distracted discussing tactics with a corporal. So there he was, standing and observing in the corner of the room - his “observing” being drinking the sight of you. And that was when he noticed, among all the glory that was you, that your mask was slightly off alignment. Cue his eyes being trained on your head for you to get the idea that something was wrong.

When your head stayed still - probably challenging his gaze - he tried to change tactics. He added the occasional upward jerk of the head - miming an attempt to shake the mask back in place - but your head only tilted in confusion. You still could not figure out what he was doing.

Eventually he gave up and walked up to you. He lifted a tentative hand, silently asking for permission and you nodded. He pinched at the fabric on the side of your face.

“Your mask’s slippin’,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t the end of the world, only a small adjustment that only someone as observant as him could notice. Still, he felt satisfied at your heavy exhale, you must’ve noticed it’s a little easier to breathe with everything in alignment now.

“Thanks.”

Today, Simon finds your gaze trained on him, head following whenever he moves across the room. You used to stare when you first met, you probably found him intimidating and he doesn’t blame you. He thought you’d be over that though, you two were closer than that. At least he hoped.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He eventually asks and that spurs you into action.

Standing in front of him, you reach up, your hand grabbing the top half of the skull that overlays his balaclava. Your thumb lightly hooks into the skull’s eye socket - a little close to Simon’s actual eye but he trusts you. He feels you tug upwards, and Simon now realises that the skull had been sinking down his face, the peripheral around his brow no longer obscured. He’ll need to reapply the glue for the mask later.

“We really need a hand sign for this,” you mutter.

And so you two make one. It’s discreet, a closed fist with a thumb poking out, dragged from the jawline up to the hairline. The rest of the 141 just look at the two of you in confusion whenever you use it though, your little secret.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny’s generally a good judge of character. Although it’s a little uncanny being unable to see your features, he’s used to it because of Simon. One conversation is all he needs to reach a conclusion as to what type of person you are and now he treats you as if you’re good friends

Yes, he is curious about what you look like under the mask. He used to make comments about it occasionally until he caught you on a bad day

“C’mon Sarge, just a peek.” “Not happening, Johnny.” “What, you ugly?” “… that’s not for you to speculate, MacTavish.” “Shit, sorry. I- I’d never think that of you, or care. I know you’re a looker.”

And Johnny stands by his statement. Even if he’s never seen your face he quickly developed a little crush on you. How you conduct yourself in battle has him watching you with stars in his eyes and he just knows you’ll take his breath away if you ever show your face

When Johnny’s bored, he likes doodling your mask and potential alternative designs in his journal which he’ll show you sometimes. He’s not an artist but he gets the idea across. He’s created a “happy” design, an “angry” one, and the “when I see Soap” design which is just your standard mask with a whole lot of shoddily drawn love hearts on it (you haven't seen that design yet)

He’s genuinely surprised at how determined you are at keeping your mask on in all circumstances - you’re worse than Simon at this point - but he’ll never ask because he doesn’t want to potentially open up old wounds. Despite his curiosity for what you could look like, Johnny will never invade your privacy and ensures no one else does either. If you’re in your room he’ll knock once, twice, thrice, until he’s absolutely sure you’re ready for him to enter

If something goes wrong and your mask falls off he’s looking away and shoving everyone else to look away as well. He’s like a guard dog, shouting and name-shaming anyone who dares look in your direction. No one except other members of the 141 will be able to approach you until you’re covered

Was it smart to have you and Soap - combined to be the most disruptive and obnoxious soldiers on the field - alone to handle a stealth mission that was off the books? No, but you sure as hell weren’t going to disappoint Price or Laswell. The objective was clear and the rules of engagement were even clearer; under no circumstance can the enemy know you’re from 141.

“We’re gonna need to cover our faces,” Johnny mutters absentmindedly beside you. You pull your binoculars down to send him an incredulous look and he chuckles. “I need to cover my face.”

“You got a mask?”

There’s a pause and Johnny’s looking at you, eyes glinting in that familiar mischief. That was never good news.

“You bet.”

You offer a tentative nod of encouragement before lifting your binoculars back up to observe the target site. You hear the repeated shuffles of fabric against fabric and clothes sliding against skin. It’s prolonged, you swear it’s enough time for Johnny to change his entire uniform. His breaths become muted, mouth now covered until it eventually falls to complete silence. It’s unnerving, the designated demolitions expert is not known for his silence, and you have to look back at him yet again.

Of course you expected Johnny to be wearing a mask, but it was the mask itself that took you by surprise.

“Is that… mine?”

“Was yours.”

You squint and somewhere in the depths of your mind, you vaguely recall Soap asking if he could have one of your spare masks back at the base. You humoured him, and said your wardrobe was his.

That was your first mistake.

You figured he was just going to take the piss, wear your mask to scare some privates around the base. You didn’t think he’d actually wear it on a mission. It was unexpected, but it felt like an honour. How he was so willing to identify with you in some of the most dangerous of situations.

But your silence has Johnny getting fidgety. He’s already reaching up to pull the mask off.

“I have a normal balaclava. If you don’t like this I can-”

“Wear it.”

You can’t see Johnny’s face but you see him pull his head back in surprise. Then he smiles, one so wide, expanding his cheeks you can see it stretch your mask. In that moment you’re glad your mask obscures your features as you feel yourself grin at his own joy.

“We’re a team, aye?”

“You bet.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle’s may be close to Simon but he's not entirely used to masked allies. When you first arrived he shot Captain Price a cautious look, a silent conversation between them finished by Price’s definitive nod. Eventually he relents and puts up with you

Subconsciously, without seeing your face he ends up reducing you to a weapon. He respects you like a soldier, a robot. His language is restrained, only issuing orders and you recite them back

It’s only when another soldier cracks a joke on the mission and you laugh does it flick a switch in Kyle’s mind. You weren’t all orders, you weren’t a machine, you were a human (with a damn nice voice might he add). He feels terrible for reducing you to a tool simply because he can’t see your face but he’ll make up for it now

He becomes a bit of a menace in the sparse quiet moments of a mission. He makes the occasional one liner about how you wear the mask so others aren’t distracted by your good looks, but then changes the topic so quickly you’re not even sure he said it

Yes, Kyle’s a little obsessed with your voice. He can’t see you and he doesn’t have the experience like Price or Simon to read body language accurately. Instead, he can read your mood near perfectly with the inflections in your voice (which is arguably more impressive). While he doesn’t want you to ever be upset or angry, sometimes how you taunt the enemy has a shiver running down his spine

Because your mouth is blocked by a mask, many allies don’t offer you food or drinks. Not Kyle though, if he’s grabbed refreshments, he always ensures he has extra for you. At first he just gives them to you and then leaves. But when you said it was okay for him to stay - trusting him enough to just look away when you lift you mask - Kyle’s heart soared

If anything happens to reveal your face, Kyle is immediately by your side. He pulls you close to provide comfort, while also guiding your head into his neck or shoulder to block anyone from seeing you. Another member of the 141 will find a solution to cover your face, you are Kyle’s first priority and he’ll gladly hold you all day

After a long mission, you and Kyle are finally safe upon reaching exfil. Sitting on a helicopter Kyle slumps against his seat, and you do the same beside him. Although he could finally relax, he feels absolutely filthy, swamped in his own sweat under multiple layers. Dirt and mud caked his boots and crept all the way up to his thighs. Some even sneaked up into under his tactical vest.

He spares a look and sometimes he thinks you can’t possibly be human. The heat is suffocating enough without a mask, Kyle has long forgone his signature cap to let his head breathe. If your body language was any indicator, you weren’t handling the sweltering heat of the helicopter engine or Al Mazrah’s temperament. Your chest notably heaving under the weight of your tactical gear, breaths so laboured it sent the fabric around your mouth pulling and billowing with each inhale and exhale.

There isn’t much Kyle can do for comfort, but he tries. He shifts a little closer to you. Your head shifts to look at him, the movement was far too slow, like your head was too heavy and his heart tugs a little.

With one hand, Kyle gently tilts your face up to him. With the other he lightly pinches the fabric of your mask at the junction between your jawline and ear. Teasing it between his fingers, when he pulls his hand away there’s gunk on his fingertips. Dust, dirt and as he squints at your mask he realises that some of the stains are likely the dried blood of an unidentified enemy.

The hand he’s resting on your chin is about to pull away until he notices how you’re resting your head on it. He can’t see your face but he has no doubt that your eyes are near shut, almost drifting off to dreamland. He occupies himself by gently brushing away loose debris off your mask which has you relaxing further into his touch.

“We gotta wash this,” he murmurs defeatedly.

“... yeah, we do,” you grumble, voice thick with fatigue. Kyle does not stop his ministrations - even pulling some fluff off of the cotton of your mask. It does little to actually clean your mask - at this rate it’s going to need pure bleach to clean it - but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you trust him this much, leaning into his touch, entrusting him to be the respite from your mission.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[bluedrizzle82]

Stranded

Being in Task Force 141 came with a lot of risk, your life, your family, your friends, even your teammates. Every-time you step on that field might be the last time you see them. Well for you that’s not an option right now, you have something to protect or should I say someone.

For the next 6 months you have to protect this person, who is it? Well you’re 3 months pregnant and you have yet to tell anyone mostly because it’s Ghost’s baby, your lieutenant and you’re not supposed to be pregnant.

Ghost and yourself had secretly been in a relationship for the past 3 years. You both have always been careful about contraception but here you are still pregnant and you have yet to tell him. Also making the situation worse you guys are stuck on the mission right now.

This mission started last week and you’re all still here, no communication to base and you’re slowly running out of time before they notice that baby bump the more it grows and especially Ghost.

[jashonja]

Strip Poker

[sky-is-the-limit]

TikTok be like, here's my 141 edit🤪

The 141 edit:

[quillcraftconquer]

Simon Riley X Reader

(I will update other drabbles and what not this weekend hopefully. I’m 200+ pages into writing a book currently and do this in my free time. Bear with me lol)

Simon knew why you were with him.

He just didn't like it.

“They’ve been MIA for over a year. You, better than anyone, know what they’ve been through.” Price had grumbled when Simon complained, again, about being paired up with you.

You, who he found, drugged up in some shitty basement with the used syringe still sticking out of your arm. The bastards didn't even have the decency to pull it out, and why would they? Your clothes were filthy, you were filthy, hands tied behind your back and laying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Part of him thought you were dead. It wasnt until Johnny had reached down, grabbing your shoulder and a small moan escaped your lips that he breathed out.

Yeah, he knew better than anyone what you had gone through.

He wasnt, however, expecting you to wake up as you were slumped in the front of the truck, sucking in a breath of air before narrowing your eyes at him as he drove through the crowded streets.

“Calm-” The words barely left his mouth before you swiveled in your seat, his head snapping back as your foot connected with his nose. His mask had the unmistakable shoe print across the white of it, and before he could swivel his head back, it connected with the side of his face again.

“Johnny!” Simon yelled, and the small window leading to the back of the truck popped open. You felt the material of your pants being tugged, causing you to wrap your ankle around his throat, cinching them tightly together. You could hear the string of curses, and you twisted like an alligator with their prey.

“Fuck-” You heard, now face down in your seat, hands still tied behind your back. The vehicle slammed to a stop, and you lurched forward, face crumpling against the metal of the glovebox as your vision returned to black.

Simon knew better than anyone else what you had been through.

Which is why he was so confused you were kneeling in front of him, willingly, hands unclipping his tactical belt, eyes… pleading? Desperate? Hungry? He wasn't sure. All he knew was it felt damn good when you took him out, tongue gliding up the underside of him and twirling around the tip before you took him into your mouth. He groaned, eyes pinching shut as he leaned his head back against the wooden doorframe. It wasn't until he brought his gloved hand down on the back of your head and felt you stiffen and pull away from him he understood.

This wasn't for him, wasn't about him.

This was for you.

He obliged, letting you work your mouth up and down him as he took his hands away, hooking them into the front of his vest like he would casually stand when talking to others. He gritted his teeth when he couldn't keep his hips against the wood, pumping them softly, but greedily into your throat. You confused him even more when you took all of him, hands wrapping around the back of his thighs, nose buried in his pubic hair, throat constricting with every ounce of liquid he gave you. You glanced up at him, not even the hint of a smile on your face as you stood and brushed the dirt from your knees, leaving him against the wood with the same bewildered look on his face.

[gomzdrawfr]

my twt timeline has been blessed with macegaz content...so...who am I to resist such ship?

credit to remintiy, for their video is what kickstarted this whole shebang

of course, big credit to @/mawvax for carrying the mace content community as well aksjdhk ((should be the same handle here in tumblr and twt))

[berberriescorner]

“Under the Mask”

Characters: Simon Riley x Black!Reader.

Summary: Dinner with the boys and some ribbing.

Word Count: 600+.

A/N: I don't own these images. Found them on Pinterest and made a mood board🥰.

"You've really outdone yourself, love," Simon murmured to his wife, his hand gently resting on her lower back. Her presence was a calming balm to his often troubled mind.

"Only the best for you boys," she replied with a smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Dinner was in full swing when Soap, ever the joker, decided to stir things up. He had noticed the way Simon's eyes followed his wife, the way his fingers twitched slightly whenever you were near, protective and adoring all at once. It was an easy target, too tempting to resist.

"So, love," Soap began, his voice loud enough to capture the room's attention, "did Simon ever tell you about the time he saved my arse in Uzbekistan?"

She laughed, a sound that sent a ripple of warmth through Simon's chest. "I don't think I've heard that one."

"Oh, it's a good one," Soap continued, leaning in slightly, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "But what I want to know is, how did he manage to snag someone as beautiful as you?"

The room fell silent for a moment before erupting into laughter. Simon's eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of amusement in them. He knew Soap's game.

"Careful, Soap," Price warned, though he was chuckling himself. "You don't want to provoke the beast."

"Oh, I'm not worried," Soap said with a grin, turning back to Simon's wife. "If he hasn't killed me by now, I think I'm safe."

You played along, your smile widening. "Well, I have to say, he did have some competition. But there's something about a man in a skull mask that's hard to resist."

Simon groaned inwardly, his hand tightening slightly on his knife. "MacTavish, you're pushing it."

"Am I?" Soap asked innocently, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "I'm just saying, if you ever get tired of the mask, you know where to find me."

The room burst into laughter again, but Simon's eyes darkened. He knew it was all in good fun, but there were limits. He stood up, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the table.

"Alright, that's enough," Simon said, his voice low and calm but carrying an undeniable edge.

Soap raised his hands in mock surrender. "Easy there, mate. Just having a bit of fun."

You stepped in, your hand gently touching Simon's arm. "It's okay, love. They’re just teasing."

He looked down at you, his hard expression softening instantly. "I know. But they should know better."

The crew roared with laughter, enjoying the rare sight of Simon Riley flustered and protective. It was a side of him they seldom saw, and it made the night even more memorable.

As the evening drew to a close, the teasing died down, replaced by genuine camaraderie and the kind of easy conversation that only came with years of trust and friendship. Simon pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

"Anytime," you replied, your eyes full of love. "But next time, you handle the teasing."

Simon chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through your entire being. "Deal."

And as the night wore on, filled with laughter, stories, and the warmth of those they loved, Simon Riley knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Comments and reblogs greatly appreciated♥️.

Tagging♥️:

@darqchilddaydreamz @thirtysomethinganduncensored @percosim @astoldbychae @theeblackmedusa @johnnyshoe @thabiddie23 @starrynite7114

[reds-skull]

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6

I wondered how the Red Team skins got their masks... so this series is my take on it.

This is gonna be in (about) 5 parts, I'm posting each one the moment I finish it. I'll add links when I'm done