3 - A Philosopher and a Lawyer walk into a Cafè
Aaron Hotchner's x bau!fem!reader
Genre: fluff, sapiosexual fluff
Summary: You and Hotch's playful rivalry deepens as you bring him a coffee, sparking witty banter and an unspoken connection. You work together on a complex case involving philosophical murders, impressing each other with your insights. Amid teasing about a fictional romance between Rossi and Gideon, you and Hotch’s bond strengthens, both appreciating the natural rhythm of working together while unknowingly being quietly supported by your mentors.
Warnings: Usual graphic CM kind of case, Reader being a Prehistoric Reid, Gissi being so strong they even named a town for them.
Word Count: 4.8k words
Dado's Corner: Thesis, Antithesis, Synthesis. Mark my words, they could be helpful in the long run. We might get close to the second stage sooner than you think.
previous part: Early birds
It was another early morning at the BAU, and you found yourself in the local coffee shop just around the corner from the office. The morning chill clung to your coat as you stepped inside, the familiar hum of the espresso machine and the comforting aroma of fresh coffee filling the air.
You you were eager to finally being able to order your usual - a double espresso - as you found yourself already savouring the taste and smell of it, especially after all those days of being forced to drink the burnt coffee they provided at work. On a whim, decided to grab something for Hotch as well.
He had been beating you to the office every day, and despite your friendly rivalry, you knew the coffee at work was terrible. You imagined Hotch downing that bitter, overbrewed mess every morning, and the thought made you grimace.
"One black coffee, no sugar," you told the barista, after all, Hotch seemed like the kind of man who appreciated perfectly crafted simplicity.
Arriving at the office, you made your way to the bullpen, feeling a small thrill of satisfaction at the thought of catching Hotch off guard. As expected, there he was, already at his desk, his navy suit perfectly pressed, tie in place, and eyes glued to his case file. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, both annoyed and impressed by his consistency.
Hotch glanced up as you approached, a faint look of surprise crossing his features when he noticed the second coffee cup in your hand.
“Morning,” you said casually, setting the coffee on his desk. “Thought you might appreciate something better than the sludge they serve here.”
Hotch looked down at the cup, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes before he masked it with his usual composed expression. “Thank you. I’ve been meaning to bring my own, but, well, you know how it is.” He picked up the cup, taking a sip and letting out a satisfied sigh.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze meeting yours with a wry smile. “So, what’s the excuse this time? You figured you’d never make it here before me, so you’re hedging your bets by blaming your tardiness on stopping for coffee?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Actually, I thought you might need a little recognition for all your hard work. I didn’t think you’d still be going along with this whole rivalry.” You gave him a teasing look, knowing full well that he thrived on the unspoken challenge between you.
Hotch’s smirk softened, his eyes briefly betraying how much he appreciated the gesture. “Well, it’s not every day someone bothers to get me a decent cup of coffee, but you don’t have to go out of your way. Even if I’m not complaining.” He took another sip, savoring the taste that was far superior to the bitter brew he usually endured.
You shrugged, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Consider it my one good deed for the day. But don’t think this means I’m letting you win without a fight.”
Hotch nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “I appreciate the coffee, but now I owe you. I’ll have to get you a properly made coffee sometime, just to keep us even.”
You raised an eyebrow, leaning closer as if conspiring. “Hotch, you owe me more than just one coffee for the stress you’ve caused me with this little game.”
He met your gaze with a mock-serious expression. “Oh, I’m not causing you stress. You’re the one driving yourself crazy trying to keep up.”
You scoffed playfully, unable to deny that he had a point. But Hotch’s eyes softened slightly, and he added, “But you’re right. I do owe you. In fact, I’ll make you a deal: I’ll buy you one coffee for every day I beat you here, until the day you finally arrive earlier than me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his offer, shaking your head at the sheer audacity. “You’re such a lawyer, you know that? You’re making a deal that actually only benefits you. What’s stopping me from showing up later on purpose just to drain your wallet?”
Hotch’s smirk widened, and he gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe that’s the idea. Give you a bigger distraction, make you think about something other than beating me. It works out well for me in the long run.”
You couldn’t help but admire the cleverness of his plan, realizing that if you fell for it, you’d be distracted by the rewards rather than the competition itself. “Wow. I’ve got to hand it to you, Hotch. In the long run, I’d end up showing up later and later, making it even easier for you. Impressive.”
Hotch raised his cup in mock toast, clearly pleased that you saw right through his scheme. “I’m surprised you caught on. I was hoping to pull one over on you for a while longer.”
You leaned back, crossing your arms with a triumphant smile. “You have no idea how good I am at outsmarting lawyers who think they can outsmart me first.”
Hotch chuckled, shaking his head in genuine amusement. “Touché.”
“Deal’s still on, though,” you said, holding out your hand as if to seal it formally. “But don’t think for a second I’m going to change my routine just because you’re bribing me with coffee.”
Hotch took your hand, his grip firm and warm. “Of course not.”
But today, something else was on Hotch’s mind. As you settled in, you noticed Hotch was already deeply absorbed in a case file, the intensity of his focus suggesting he was waiting for something, or someone.
Hotch flipped open the file in front of him, his eyes scanning the pages with a keen intensity. As he read through the details, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. This case was unlike most he’d worked on recently: it was layered with philosophical references, obscure quotes, and an unsub whose modus operandi seemed to be influenced by complex philosophical ideologies. He knew exactly who would be perfect to consult on this, but rather than asking for help directly, he had something else in mind.
With a subtle shift, Hotch angled the file just enough to leave the corner of a page visible from your desk. It was a deliberate move, calculated to catch your attention. If he knew you - and by now, he did - you wouldn’t be able to resist taking a peek.
He didn’t have to wait long. You settled into your chair and immediately noticed the stray page peeking out from Hotch’s desk. The faint, familiar names and terms you could make out - “Nietzsche,” “existential morality,” “nihilism” - caught your eye. You tried to concentrate on your own files, but curiosity got the better of you. Your gaze kept drifting back to that page.
Simulating a casual stretch, you leaned forward, pretending to adjust something on your desk while sneaking a better look at Hotch’s case. The notes detailed a series of murders where the unsub left behind cryptic quotes from philosophers, each one linked to the specific way the victims were killed. It was more than just a pattern; it was a philosophical puzzle, woven into every aspect of the crime scenes.
You couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped your lips as the pieces clicked in your mind. “Oh my God,” you muttered, momentarily forgetting where you were.
Hotch glanced up, hiding his satisfaction at your reaction. He had set the bait perfectly, and you had walked right into it. The moment was even more rewarding for him, especially considering your previous bragging about being great at "outsmarting lawyers who think they can outsmart me first", only to now prove that you were, in fact, a little more ordinary than you'd let on. “Something on your mind, Y/N?”
You blinked, realizing you’d been caught. “I- uh, sorry. I couldn’t help but notice... are those quotes from Nietzsche? And Kierkegaard?” You pointed vaguely in the direction of his file, trying not to sound too eager.
Hotch leaned back in his chair, pretending to consider your question. “It seems that way. The unsub is leaving these quotes at the scenes, but the exact reasoning behind his selections is still unclear.”
You moved closer, unable to resist the lure of the philosophical elements woven into the case. “He’s not just picking these at random,” you said, your mind already racing with theories. “Look at this, Nietzsche’s ‘Beyond Good and Evil’ is quoted here, right next to how the victim was killed. He’s making a statement about morality, or the lack of it, in a deeply personal way.”
Hotch nodded, observing the way you immersed yourself in the details. “Go on,” he prompted, genuinely intrigued by your insights.
You flipped through the pages, your fingers tracing the notes. “Nietzsche challenges conventional morality, especially the binary of good and evil. The unsub seems to be echoing that: he’s positioning himself as someone who operates outside the realm of typical moral standards. Each murder isn’t just a killing; it’s a message that he’s transcended normal ethical constraints.”
Hotch watched you intently, his brow furrowing as he processed your explanation. “So he’s justifying his actions through philosophy? Twisting these ideas to fit his narrative?”
You nodded, flipping to another page with a different quote: “He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.” You pointed at the crime scene photo beside it. “This victim was restrained, but not in the usual way. It’s almost as if he’s trying to make a point about the nature of becoming what we despise. He’s projecting his internal struggle onto his victims.”
Hotch’s eyes darkened as he absorbed your analysis. “He sees himself as above society’s rules, above good and evil.”
“Exactly,” you replied. “This isn’t just about murder. It’s about the philosophical struggle of defining oneself beyond societal constraints. The unsub doesn’t see himself as evil; he sees himself as someone exploring the limits of human morality.”
Hotch leaned back, clearly impressed. “And what about this one?” He pointed to another crime scene photo. A quote from Kierkegaard was scrawled near the body: “Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.”
You stared at the quote, considering the implications. “Kierkegaard speaks about existential dread and the overwhelming responsibility of true freedom. By leaving this quote, the unsub is hinting at his own struggle with the concept of freedom, how it can be paralyzing, even deadly. His victims aren’t just casualties; they’re expressions of his own inner turmoil about freedom and choice.”
Hotch glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “So he’s not just a killer, he’s using these murders to explore and express his own philosophical beliefs.”
“Right,” you said, feeling the thrill of the chase. “He’s trying to elevate his crimes to a form of existential art. Each murder is his way of grappling with these big ideas, like a twisted performance meant to provoke thought.”
Hotch studied you, clearly impressed. He’d expected insights, but your depth of understanding went beyond his expectations. “This angle is exactly what we need to get inside his head,” he said quietly.
You smiled, feeling both flattered and invigorated. “I can help. I mean, if you want me to. I’ve studied these philosophies for years: existentialism, nihilism, all of it. I think I can figure out what he’s trying to communicate and why he’s doing it this way.”
Hotch allowed himself another rare smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “So this was your idea all along? You knew I’d snoop.”
Hotch shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “I had a hunch. And I thought you might enjoy this one.”
The two of you spent the rest of the morning poring over the crime scene photos and quotes, dissecting the unsub’s motivations in a way that felt less like work and more like an intense intellectual duel. At one point, Hotch leaned in, pointing at a particular quote scrawled in blood at one of the scenes: “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”
“He’s obsessed with the idea of chaos and creation,” Hotch said thoughtfully. “He’s not just killing, he’s trying to create something.”
You nodded, your mind racing. “Nietzsche believed that from chaos comes creation: an artist’s need to disrupt the ordinary to bring something extraordinary into existence. The unsub sees himself as a kind of artist, but his canvas is human life. He’s trying to provoke a reaction, make a statement that only he believes in.”
Hotch’s gaze was sharp, but you could see the respect in his eyes. “He’s creating his own twisted masterpiece.”
“Exactly,” you said. “He’s redefining morality in his own terms, using his victims to express his philosophical journey.”
The hours flew by as you and Hotch continued to unravel the unsub’s mindset, bouncing theories off each other with a rhythm that felt natural. You had found a way to speak the same language, not just of profiling but of the deeper, darker corners of human thought.
As the day wore on, the bullpen filled with the sounds of the rest of the team returning from their work. Rossi passed by your desks, noticing the two of you deeply engaged in discussion.
“Looks like you’ve finally found your match, Hotch,” Rossi said with a smirk. “She’s giving you a run for your money.”
Hotch didn’t look up from the file, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “She’s good,” he said simply, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable.
Rossi raised an eyebrow at you, clearly impressed. “Well, don’t let him work you too hard. And Hotch, try not to steal all her ideas.”
You both laughed, knowing that this case had brought you closer as partners, not just colleagues. The connection between you and Hotch had deepened; it wasn’t just about early mornings or the rivalry anymore. It was about understanding each other on a level that few could reach.
“Thanks, Hotch. For letting me dive into this.” You smiled at him as you packed up for the day.
He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than usual. “I didn’t just let you help. I needed you on this one.”
As you left the office together, the day’s work behind you, you felt the connection you’d built still very much alive. You were learning, growing, and with Hotch by your side, you felt like you could take on anything. And as you drove home that night, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Hotch felt the same way.
The next morning, you walked into the office with a heavy sigh. The thrill of unofficially working with Hotch on a complex case filled with philosophical nuances had left you buzzing with excitement the night before, but today was a completely different story.
You knew what awaited you: a mountain of paperwork that had absolutely nothing to do with profiling or unraveling the twisted minds of criminals. Instead, it was the mundane side of the job: filing reports, cross-referencing witness statements, and all the bureaucratic tedium that no one warned you about when you signed up to chase unsubs.
As you approached your desk, your mood dipped even further. Sitting squarely in the center was a towering stack of files, the sight of which nearly made you sick. You let out a groan, dropping your bag on the floor and staring at the pile as if you could will it away with sheer force of will.
“Really?” you muttered to yourself, mentally preparing for a long and grueling morning. But as you reached for the first file, something odd caught your eye. The top sheet had been filled out, every line neatly completed in precise handwriting. You frowned, flipping through the next few files only to find the same, each one meticulously filled out, every detail recorded with the same practiced precision. It didn’t take long for you to recognize the writing: slanted slightly to the left, with the occasional sharp flourish, the unmistakable penmanship of a left-handed person.
It was Hotch’s.
Your heart skipped a beat as you rifled through the entire stack, realizing that all the paperwork had been completed. At the bottom of the pile, nestled beneath the last file, was a small note. You picked it up, already smiling as you recognized Hotch’s handwriting.
“Your philosophy degree helped me. Let my prosecutor years be helpful to you.”
You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over you. He hadn’t just helped you out, he’d done it in a way that perfectly mirrored your new dynamic, a balance of give and take that was starting to feel natural.
You glanced up across your desk, Hotch was of course, engrossed in yet another case file, but you could tell by the way his shoulders were set that he knew exactly what he’d done and was just waiting for you to notice. You grabbed the note, determined to thank him but also to give him a hard time for beating you to the punch once again.
“Hey,” you said. Hotch looked up, and for a moment, the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. You held up the note, shaking it lightly. “So, when did you decide to moonlight as my personal assistant?”
Hotch leaned back in his chair, his expression carefully neutral, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You looked like you had enough on your plate after yesterday,” he said simply. “Figured I could put my old skills to use.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Hotch, this would’ve taken hours. You really didn’t have to do all of this.”
“I know,” he replied, his tone casual but sincere. “But after all the philosophical guidance you gave me yesterday, I thought I’d return the favor. Call it a mutual exchange of expertise.”
You smiled, feeling warmth spread through you. “Well, thank you. Seriously. This is way above and beyond.”
Hotch nodded, but there was a playful edge to his voice when he spoke next. “Hopefully now you don’t hate lawyers as much.”
“Touché,” you said, grinning. “I guess you’ve proven that some lawyers can be... tolerable.”
Hotch gave a mock look of offense. “Tolerable? I’ll take it.” He paused, then added more seriously, “It’s not about winning, you know. At least, not in this line of work. It’s about finding the truth, even if it means doing the boring parts.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to see that” you admitted, still holding the note between your fingers. “Thanks for reminding me.”
You looked over the stack of completed reports, still impressed by how thorough Hotch had been. “Some of this paperwork was from cases I wrapped up a week ago. How did you know all the details? Did you just magically know what to write?”
Hotch leaned back in his chair, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “What, you think you’re the only one entitled to snoop around your coworkers’ files?!”
You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “So you’ve been snooping on me? I thought that was my job.”
Hotch’s smirk widened, and he shrugged casually. “I learned from the best. You think I haven’t noticed you trying to catch a glimpse of my cases all this time?”
You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up. “I guess that makes us even.”
“Not quite,” he quipped, his tone teasing but his expression still composed. “I’m just better at not getting caught.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Guess I’ll have to up my game then.”
Hotch chuckled, a rare and genuine sound that caught you by surprise. “Good luck with that. But seriously, I figured I’d save you some time. I know how much you the paperwork side of this job isn’t the most entertaining one.”
You nodded, appreciating the gesture more than you could express. “Well, I have to admit, you did a pretty good job... for a snooper.”
“Better than tolerable?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused by your earlier choice of words.
“Don’t push it,” you shot back with a grin. “But I’ll give you this: you’re pretty good at reading between the lines, even when it’s not a case file.”
Hotch nodded, his expression softening. “It’s all part of the job. And hey, if you ever need help with the paperwork again, just let me know. I don’t mind putting those old lawyer skills to use, once in a while.”
“Deal,” you said, pushing off his desk and heading back to your own. “But don’t think I’m going to let you get away with this kind of espionage forever.”
Hotch’s eyes sparkled with restrained laughter. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
He was already back to work, his usual intensity in place, but he looked up just long enough to catch your eye and give you a brief, almost imperceptible nod.
You nodded back, smiling. “Jokes apart, thank you, Hotch, really.”
“You’re welcome,” he said finally, his voice softer. “And if you ever feel like helping me out with another case like yesterday’s, just let me know.”
You gave him a playful salute. “Deal. But don’t think I won’t call you out when I catch you snooping through my files next time.”
Hotch’s eyes twinkled with restrained laughter. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Meanwhile Gideon leaned against the doorframe of Rossi’s office, watching his old friend sift through a case file with the kind of focused intensity that had made him a legend in the Bureau. But today, Gideon wasn’t there to discuss a case. He had noticed something recently, an unexpected but welcome development among the team, one that involved you and Hotch.
“Got a minute, Dave?” Gideon asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Rossi looked up, raising an eyebrow at the unusually cheerful tone. “For you, always. What’s going on?”
Gideon stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He glanced briefly through the blinds, catching sight of you and Hotch at your desks, deep in your usual quiet exchanges. “I’ve been watching Y/N and Hotch,” he began, leaning casually against the desk. “I have to say, I’m impressed. She’s only been here a few weeks, but they’ve already got something… special going on.”
Rossi smirked, setting his file down. “You mean the way she’s got him smiling at eight in the morning? Yeah, I’ve noticed. It’s like watching a miracle unfold.”
Gideon chuckled quietly. “I knew she was something special when I first saw her at the academy, but I didn’t expect her to click with Hotch so fast. They’re both pretty guarded, but when they’re working together... it’s like they’re speaking their own language.”
Rossi nodded thoughtfully, following Gideon’s gaze through the blinds. “They’re a good match. She challenges him in ways the rest of us don’t, and he’s bringing out something in her, too. You know, you were right to pair them up on that first case. You planned this, didn’t you?”
Gideon shrugged, a faint smile playing at his lips. “I had a feeling. Hotch needed someone who could challenge his perspective, shake up his routine a little. And she… well, I knew she’d benefit from his discipline, his way of grounding things when they get too abstract. Plus, I figured if they didn’t kill each other, they’d probably make a great team.”
Rossi leaned back, crossing his arms with a knowing grin. “I guess we both had our little plans, didn’t we? You remember that guy who used to sit at the desk in front of Hotch?”
Gideon raised an eyebrow, surprised by the turn of the conversation. “The one who suddenly had that one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to lead an undercover operation? That was you?”
Rossi’s grin widened. “Oh, yeah. He was a really good agent, an excellent one actually, but he was never really a fit for teamwork. I saw an opening and might’ve... nudged him in that direction. You kept going on about Y/N back then, about how her expertise in philosophy would be an asset to the BAU. You even gave me this whole rundown of her personality: sharp, quick-witted, not afraid to push back. I knew right then she’d be perfect for Hotch.”
Gideon laughed, shaking his head. “You sneaky son of a... You were setting this up long before she even started.”
Rossi nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. “You convinced me she’d bring something new, but I could see it wasn’t just about adding a fresh perspective. I saw the potential for something more, a partnership that would push both of them. So yeah, I cleared the way a little. Let’s just say the seating arrangements weren’t accidental.”
Gideon pointed a finger at Rossi, his face alight with amusement. “And you call me sly? You practically orchestrated the whole thing.”
Rossi chuckled. “I just gave them the stage. The rest? That’s all them.”
Meanwhile, outside Rossi’s office, you spotted the two veteran profilers deep in conversation. You couldn’t help but smirk, seeing the perfect chance to tease Hotch about his painfully awkward first attempt to break the ice with you during your first field case together. An interaction so miserable that neither of you ever brought it up again, especially the bizarre conspiracy theory he tried to use as common ground. But you just couldn’t resist bringing back your old inside joke: the running gag that Rossi and Gideon were secretly an item.
You turned to Hotch, who was diligently working on another file, and without saying a word, you nodded your head in the direction of Rossi’s office. He glanced up, following your line of sight, and immediately caught on. With a slight raise of his eyebrow and a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned back in his chair, pretending to stretch but really angling himself to get a better view through the blinds.
“Can’t believe they’re still trying to keep it under wraps,” you whispered, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “It’s like they think we’re not onto them.”
Hotch chuckled softly, surprised that you were bringing up that old joke again. He kept his voice low so as not to be overheard. “Clearly discussing anniversary plans. I bet Rossi forgot to book the romantic getaway Gideon’s been hinting at for weeks.”
You bit your lip to stifle a laugh, nodding along. “You’d think after all these years, Rossi would know better. Gideon’s a stickler for anniversaries.”
Hotch’s expression was one of pure mischief. “I swear, if Rossi starts another argument about their anniversary dinner being interrupted by Bureau business, I’m not sure even Gideon can save them this time.”
You shook your head, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “Maybe that’s why Gideon looks so serious. He’s probably rethinking the whole relationship. Can’t be easy dealing with a partner who’s constantly prioritizing work.”
Hotch’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he added, “Gideon’s probably thinking about counseling, he’d better hope Rossi can handle it. You know how he gets about any ‘psychological mumbo jumbo.’”
Inside Rossi’s office, Gideon continued, unaware of the playful scrutiny from outside. “So, we’re agreed then? We let them work together more often?”
Rossi nodded, smiling at the thought. “Definitely. They’ll keep each other sharp. Besides, it’s fun watching Hotch get flustered.”
Gideon laughed softly. “It’s not just fun, it’s necessary. I think we’re seeing something good here, Dave. They’ve got the makings of a great partnership.”
Back outside, you and Hotch continued your banter as you watched Rossi and Gideon converse through the glass. You turned to Hotch with a mock serious look. “You know, at this point, I’m half expecting them to make a grand announcement at the next briefing.”
Hotch nodded sagely, playing along. “It’ll be the talk of the office. I’m just waiting for the inevitable joint vacation request.”
You both laughed quietly, and for a moment, it was just you two, lost in the absurdity of your ongoing joke. It was moments like these that made the long hours and high stakes of the job more bearable, and as you glanced over at Hotch, you realized just how much you appreciated these little breaks from reality.
Hotch turned back to his work, but not before giving you one last, knowing smile. “You know, if this keeps up, we might have to start planning their wedding.”
You pretended to think about it, grinning. “Oh, I’ve already got the venue in mind. I’m thinking a quaint little spot in the woods, somewhere private, just the two of them.”
Hotch chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re too good at this.”
“And you’re just as bad,” you shot back playfully.
As you both returned to your respective tasks, the bond between you and Hotch felt stronger than ever.
Little did you know, the very pairing that had sparked your inside joke was also the one that had recognized your potential as a duo, quietly cheering you on.
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König's Kids Headcanons
I think König, when he's there, would be a great dad. He's a bit of a gremlin, but this just makes him a better dad. He's also a bit of a menace at parent teacher meetings.
Anyways, have some silly headcanons
Art from This Post
König is a surprisingly good father (when he’s there). He’s strict, but also knows how to relax and let things slide. He will play-wrestle with his kids and make sure they have plenty of time to run around in nature and read books. He’s passionate about his kids’ hobbies and encourages them to learn and explore what they love.
He’s the type of dad to teach them how to fight but also play pretend games with them
He does not like having tea parties, but he will endure for his children. He will endure great hardship and pain for them, and if this includes sipping water from a plastic teacup while sitting on a tiny stool, so be it. He can endure. However, he draws the line at makeup. He can’t endure (nor can he sit still long enough)
When König is home from work, he drops his military titles at the door and focuses entirely on being an important part of their lives. The sad part is that you can see he’s actively trying to make up for time he’s lost. This is part of what leads to him retiring early to a local security job.
Without a steady father figure in their lives, his kids do grow up to struggle with certain things. However, all things considered, they turn out pretty well adjusted and healthy. Honestly, pretty solid people. They turn out to be the kind of people you feel like you can respect and appreciate.
But when they’re young his kids are little shits. They’re the type to break stuff for fun. They also will run and hide from you. At a certain point, you’ll have to resort to using child leashes because they will run away from you in public. So when they’re young, they’re terrors in your house. When they get older, they have their father’s streak of intelligence and are snarky assholes. They have brutal teenage years.
This is exacerbated by the fact that for the first ten years of his youngest kid’s life, he’s still in a PMC and going on military contracts, so the kids have large periods of time where they’re missing their father.
König realizes too late that he missed a lot of his kids’ development and chooses to retire to a more local security job to spend more time at home. It’s a big change in the household, but not an unwelcome one. His older kids struggle the most, but they do grow to form strong bonds with him because of his choice to stay home
König makes a good deal of money early on so he can go on to take a lower paying job later in life. His kids never have to worry about if they have money. They have to worry about whether or not their parents will say yes.
König is a pretty strict father. He’s a military man, a former colonel. He’s not going to be a horrible abusive father, but he will be a bit much sometimes. You might find yourself stepping in to defuse the tension sometimes.
Thankfully, König doesn’t yell at his kids (unless it’s something stupid and it’s pretty obviously a joke) or hit them. He’s actually pretty bad about disciplining his kids. You might have to take over in that department. Having been in the military for so long, König’s terrified of going overkill on his kids and doesn’t want to risk hurting them. He can dish it out, yes, but he’s extremely cautious when doing so.
He’s also quite fair. He does his best to treat his children equally. He’s surprisingly good. He focuses on encouraging their individual hobbies and finding their own personalities. They do grow up to be quite self-confident with their father’s teachings in their heads. They’re not arrogant, but they’re confident and assertive
They’re not popular in school, but not hated. They do pretty decently. Academics are a bit too easy for them, so König has to step in to teach them study habits and keep their passion for learning. Thankfully, his father was a professor, so he’s pretty good at this.
That said, König will sometimes be pretty silly when disciplining. Sometimes, you can hear his full colonel voice booming from outside about someone pulling some silly prank on him as he’s mowing the lawn. He’s not the type to pull pranks on his kids (but he’ll happily torment you) but he will play silly games with them. I think his kids learn that when he’s yelling, he’s not actually that angry, he’s just playing around. It still scares the shit out of your kids’ friends when he does it when they’re over
König has a tendency to scare children in public. He tries really hard to not make them nervous, but with the hood and the height and the tired look in his eyes? Nah he’s terrifying.
König’s kids grow up not being afraid of anyone because nobody’s as scary as their dad. This also means all the kids know that those kids have the scariest dad.
When your kids’ friends come over, they’re terrified of König. Unfortunately, he finds this slightly funny and takes advantage of this. You might have to step in and diffuse the tension to help those poor children realize that when König is yelling about things, he’s not actually mad. Maybe make cookies with him or something, it’ll help break the ice.
Your kids and their friends are all taken under König’s wings for protection. He’ll go up to bat for any of those kids. He genuinely cares so much about them. Having very select few friendships as a child himself, he’ll go out of his way to ensure his children have healthy social lives.
Sometimes the parents are unsettled by him. This is König’s unsettling form of social anxiety at play, so you’ll have to mediate between other parents and König to make sure they realize that no, he’s not an abusive monster, he just makes horrible jokes about his children. He has very dark humor but plays it straight, which is a horrible combination.
He has had a teacher call CPS on him before, but it was quickly resolved. However, most people are frightened by König when he steps into a room and it’s no different at parent-teacher interviews
He always blows teachers out of the water for how much he cares about his kids getting a quality education. He’s also quite receptive to their advice (if it’s good) and is willing to step in when needed. Teachers also typically find that he’s quite a fun parent volunteer to have on field trips (he is extremely popular)
Some of the more timid kids grow to like König because he tries to ensure all children are included when he’s around. He’s good at making sure everyone feels noticed.
Of course, as said, in the beginning everyone is terrified of the giant foreign soldier man. His kids have to teach their friends to not be afraid of their dad when he’s home.
Later on, this means in late high school his kids' friends consider him a DILF. He’s horrified. Flattered, but horrified. He has a serious talk with you about how to not be a DILF. He genuinely is so upset by the concept. His kids laugh at him all the time because he’s miserable about it.
Konig Dump
Konig Headcanons
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