#fender cod

[mercury-hg-80]

I luv snapcube

[mr-not-null]

[gliitch]

Character Analysis ; Fender

a/n: Fender is a great operator. His newest skin for season 2 battle pass is AMAZING. a beautiful specimen tbh. but I hope this is a good read for some. (@lee-by-thy-side​ looking at you bestie) gonna throw a soft warning for the fact there is an angsty ending. 

“Fender” Takacs. First name unknown, however something tells me that his first name could be Ferdinand (Thank you Lee), Viktor, or Andre. Born to an American CIA operative, and Hungarian woman, ‘Fender’ never knew who his father was. The more he grew, the more his mother would tell him about the stories of who she knew him to be, causing ‘Fender’ to aspire to be as strong as he was.

Fender loved his family history, the cultural side of things. Embracing his heritage, he often dressed in the clothing and would participate in the dances during  the many festivals his home would host. His mother was an embroiderer, and growing up he adored every intricate detail she gave to each item. So much so, he asked her to draw up a design she wanted to do, and got it tattooed on his shoulder onto chest, left side, to hold his mother close to his heart when he would then travel due to his Military commitment. 

When his mother received word of his position on the 1st Explosion Ordnance Disposal Regiment, she grew worried for her son, taking a small piece of cloth and embroidering their family crest upon it, before mailing it off. She continuously worried, hoping he would receive the carefully crafted gift, until one day she received a letter in the mail from her son, a thank you letter for the gift, accompanied with his own drawing of his mother’s favorite flower; Tulips. 

Often times, she would mention how he had features that resembled his father, only for him to become a little sad due to never knowing who he really was. He often heard his mother cry in the middle of the night when he’d wake up, only to feel really bad. Sometimes he thought his appearance upset her; reminding her of the man who was taken too soon, never able to meet his son. Thought that because he resembled him so much, that he would follow the same fate as his late father.

“Fender, you look very handsome. Just like your father.” Her dainty and worked hands reach to caress her son’s cheeks, him leaning into her hands with such adoration. 

“Anya*, I’m sorry I took after him. I know it must hurt.” His voice cracked a touch, his own hands cupping hers before bring them to be held in her lap. (Anya = Mother)

Unfortunately, due to his mother’s family history, and age, she grew very ill and sadly passed away before Fender could return home. With this, he found a letter she never sent out, the final sentence saying, “Szeretlek*, my Fender. Szeretnélek újra látni.*” (Szeretlek = I Love You; Szeretnélek újra látni = I’d like to see you again.) He started to tear up, adopting the small nickname she had always called him as he grew. He was definitely a Momma’s Boy. He always was there for her when she needed someone, being her ‘Defender/Protector’. 

He always loved the name. No matter how much everyone made fun of it. 

He was her little Fender. Her One and Only.

[dustandwindstuff]

-That one word-

Fender x reader

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Summary: This is my first time writing an x reader, I hope it's not really bad!

I'm sorry if i made any mistakes in the fic!

You can also find this on AO3

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It was a stormy night, and thanks to a loud thunder now you're wide awake. Great just what you wanted! Now that you're awake at 3 AM you could just snuggle to your sleeping boyfriend. you reached out to his side you felt his side cold. Maybe he went to the kitchen to drink, so you decided to wait.

Minutes later you grew a little impatient so you went out of the room and saw that he was in the living room and he was sitting on the couch. "Fender?" He looked at you with widened eyes, he didn't hear you walking to the living room.

"Hi.. i didn't hear you walking around" you smiled at him while walking towards him, you sat next to him on the couch "is everything okay?" He nodded and gave you a weak smile "yeah i just couldn't sleep, but what about you why are you awake kedvesem?" You melted when he said that petname, almost forgotting he asked you a question.

"Didn't you hear that loud thunder? I'd be suprised if no one woke up to it." He chukled at the joke and he gently took your hands and you stood up from the couch with him "come on, let's go back to sleep" he said while walking back to your shared room.

Now you're in bed with him, he's spooning you from behind. " Good night, szeretlek." He whispered and you knew how to anserw to that one word. "Én is téged, Fender."

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Notes:

Translating

Kedvesem - my dear

Szeretlek - i love you

When somebody says "szeretlek"

We respond with " én is téged" ( only if it's mutual love) and it basically means that we love them too

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[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Okay gals and pals this is for the Fender lovers.

So- me as a hungarian- Im going crazy cause we having a rep in COD made me be just a little bit obsessed with Fender. And i was just wondering...that the math ain't mathing in his bio. I mean i can be stupid but here me out

So we kinda got his birth date, but i don't think the creators meant this like DECADES before 1989 right? I guess he was born soemwhere in the 80s.

BUT.

A revolutionary in Soviet Pest? Ma'am, that is true that Hungary was in fact under communist control but.....what revolution? Where? Our last revolution was in the 50s 💀

And so. Even if his parents (idk if his mother was too, or it just refers to his unknown father but) even if they were already alive by 56 they at least should have been teens. Or in their 20s cause the Pesti Srácok, the youth who fought againt the communist were aged mostly from 15 to 20-something. And if their parents were in their teens, young adulthood in the 50s then +30 years before having a child is massive.

Let's say they were 15 in 1956, and Fender was born in 1980 (which as i said is unlikely, why would they write a decade range for his birth) then by the time Fender was born they are 39. Which is not very ideal for a first child. Maybe if it was his father, but still. Mentioning the revolution in his bio that his parent(s) were/was a part of it is useless by this logic.

Or am I the fool and it's all good? It is weird just for me? They could have easily write something like "a RESISTANT parent in communist times" cause yeah, there were always some who rebelled and resisted the regime. But to link them back to the 56's revolution is just too strange for me. If any other person who knows about this time period in hungary has any idea about this please help me out cause I'm a bit helpless with this right now.

[mr-not-null]

[k1ttyys1llyy]

Detta’s “Gifts”

[Kortac OC mini one-shot]

Detta had never been good with words. She didn’t say "thank you", or "I appreciate you", or even "don’t worry, I’ll be fine". What she did do was leave strange little gifts for the rest of KorTac that's straight from the woods, pockets, or occasionally, the nearest corpse. To her, this was affection. To everyone else? It was a test of patience.

Fender, naturally, was her favorite. He laughed at her chaos, so she rewarded him with treasures. A beetle with wings like stained glass in a matchbox. A cool feather she found stuck in barbed wire. A wildflower pressed flat under her boot but still clinging to life.

The day she handed him a bomb keychain carved with “best boom buddy” scratched into the side, he actually grinned ear to ear. “Detta, this is sick,” He said, clipping it straight to his vest. She smirked, lit a cigarette, and shrugged as if she hadn’t just declared him her closest friend in the only way she knew how.

For König, she softened things. He was too… gentle for her usual brand of horror. So, she left pinecones and smooth river rocks near his kit. Once, she placed a fat caterpillar in a jar with a little stick, pushing it toward him like a nervous child offering a toy.

“Take care of it,” She told him seriously. “It’s your only friend now.”

König blinked down at it, mumbling behind his mask. He didn’t throw it out. Weeks later, when the caterpillar spun into a cocoon, he carefully moved the jar to his bunk. He never told Detta, but she noticed. She always noticed.

Roze didn’t like frills. So Detta gave her things that looked useful; extra branches for camouflage, herbs she swore would keep away nightmares, the occasional dead scorpion.

“It’s you, but tiny,” Detta teased, dropping the curled-up creature into Roze’s hand.

Roze didn’t flinch. She just tucked it into a pouch, deadpan. “Cute.”

Detta rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging her lips.

Horangi, though, was fair game. He’d find live crickets wriggling in his helmet, moths released in his bunk, or bugs taped to his cigarettes.

“You little psycho!” He’d roar, chasing her across the base. She’d sprint away, laughing like a banshee, yelling back. “It’s called enrichment, you boring bastard!”

And later, when he found another jar of moths tucked into his pack, he grumbled.

Zero hated surprises, which made him her favorite victim. He’d come back to his desk and find snail shells arranged into a neat spiral, or bones stacked carefully like a miniature sculpture.

The worst was the leaf. On it, scrawled in jagged writing; “I SEE YOU SEEING ME.”

He froze, staring at it, then glanced around the room. Across the hall, Detta leaned in the doorway, grinning like the devil with a cigarette between her teeth.

Zero muttered under his breath, “Bloody hell…”

Finally, Oni. He hated her nonsense, which only encouraged her. She left freshly plucked crow feathers on his bed, beetle husks by his boots, even a live frog once, stuffed in his shoe.

“It’s a guardian spirit,” She said solemnly.

“It’s a frog,” He deadpanned, holding it by the scruff as it croaked.

“Same thing.”

He scowled. She saw him release it gently into the grass later.

To Detta, it wasn’t just chaos. These were pieces of the wild, the only place she felt peace. Giving them away was her way of saying “You keep me alive. Here’s part of what keeps me alive, too.”

The team might not have understood every bug, feather, or bone she left behind, but they understood her. And in their own strange, violent, and dysfunctional way, they cherished every gift.

Even the frog.