#wesen: fuchsbau

[linusbenjamin]

Grimm —2.01, Bad Teeth

[evenceflux18]

Rewatching the Grimm and bruh I don't know bit it really fits them on that random AU😭

[indoraptorgirlwind]

Fuchsbau!Scott Lang Moodboard

[rebelliousstories]

That’s My Sister

Relationship: Sean Renard x Reader, Monroe x Monroe!Reader

Fandom: Grimm

Request: No

Warnings: Brief Strong Language, Fluff, Light Angst

Word Count: 3,540

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Summary: Bringing home your significant other for the holidays is always stressful. Even more so when you are a wesen, with another wesen coming, and a Grimm to top it all off!

Love is like death, it must come to us all, but to each his own unique way and time, sometimes it will be avoided, but never can it be cheated, and never will it be forgotten.

The spice shop was gorgeous this time of year. Smells of nutmeg, cinnamon, and juniper with just a hint of pine filled the room. Lights strung up along the banners and shelves. There were not enough to distract or take away from the business, but it added just enough of Yuletide cheer to the area.

“Rosalee? Are you in?” Someone called out into the shop. She looked around in wonder as she waited for the person to appear.

“Hey, it’s my favorite Monroe. What can I do for you?” Said Fuchsbau emerged from the back, dressed in a cozy cardigan.

“Don’t let my brother hear you say that,” the Blutbad teased, “but seriously. I’m looking for a gift for my boyfriend and was wondering if maybe I could poke around and see what I could find?” Her timid tone, and now shy demeanor intrigued Rosalee as she watched the woman.

“Oh. Your mysterious boyfriend that we have yet to meet. I’m sure we could find something. Tell me a little bit about him.” Breathing a sigh of relief, the Blutbad relaxed and went back to her usual self.

“Well, he’s super sweet and oddly loaded. Which makes it difficult to buy him a gift because if he wants something, he already has it. I just- I want this to be good because it’s our first Christmas. But he does like tea when he’s not working to wind down. So maybe something to do with that?” Her rambling encouraged the other woman to begin scouring the shelves for something that might peek her interest.

“Is he wesen? Just incase I give him something poisonous.” Rosalee stopped to look at the sister in her shop.

“He’s half zauberbiest, if that helps.” She offered, to which Rosalee confirmed that it did, in fact, help in her search. But all the while the Fuchsbau’s thoughts were racing as she tried to think of anyone who was half zauberbiest. It was not a very common type of wesen, especially if he’s half.

“Aha! This might do the trick,” she pulled something from a shelf in a glass container, “it’s a calming blend. Rose, chamomile, lavender, mint, and green tea. It’s delicious and should help calm him down from stressful days.” The other woman’s face perked up, and she excitedly followed Rosalee to the counter, where she began to dispense an amount to take with her.

“So this boyfriend of yours, are you bringing him to dinner tomorrow night?” Rosalee tried to sound nonchalant, but her curiosity was eating away at her.

“Maybe. We’ve only been dating a few months. I’m just worried about my brother going off on him.” She pulled out her wallet as she continued to speak.

“I mean, the last time I was dating someone, Roe went full Blutbad on the guy and I could never get a date after that. This is the first guy I’ve dated in years, and I really like him. I don’t want to mess that up.” Taking to leaning against the counter and watching the Fuchsbau measure out the tea and square it away, she continued her lament. Rosalee looked up at her future sister-in-law.

“Look, I get it with your brother. He can be a bit intense. But I will keep him on his best behavior. Is that why you don’t want to introduce them?” She asked, ringing up her family discount for the tea.

“Yeah. That last guy, he looked at me like I was a freak after my brother woged at him. Haven’t been able to get over that stare since. And then he told every other wesen at our school to stay away from me and my ‘psycho’ brother. Never wanted to hurt a Hundjäger so badly in my life.” Placing some bills on the counter, she grabbed the package of tea from the woman, who held her hand gently.

“Bring him to dinner tomorrow. Juliette and I will make sure everyone is on their best behavior. There won’t be a repeat of that.” Rosalee reassured the Blutbad in her care. The other wesen nodded, and placed a hand on top of the other.

“I will, Rosalee.” They both smiled, and let each other go. As the female Blutbad left her shop, the Fuchsbau could not help but let her mind wander as she began to clean up a little bit. Did she even have zauberbiest come into the shop? It’s so hard to tell sometimes, let alone if they are half. All at once, Rosalee had a revelation. She knew who it was.

“Oh no.”

Meanwhile, in the precinct Nick watched from his desk as his captain seemed preoccupied with his phone. It was an unusual behavior which is why it drew the young man’s attention.

“What are you staring at so intensely, Nick?” Hank asked from his desk right next to him.

“It’s the captain. He’s been on his phone more and more today.” The detective pointed out.

“Maybe he’s making plans for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. It’s not a crime for him to be on his phone to make plans Nick.” He tried to explain the behavior away, but Burkhardt shook his head.

“See that?” He called attention to a certain quirk of the face. “He’s smiling. There’s no one in his life that he smiles genuinely for anymore. I think he’s got a girlfriend.” Nick said finally in disbelief.

“If anyone needs a good woman to keep him grounded, it’s definitely the captain. Just be happy for once and don’t profile the man.” Griffin shook his head and turned back to his files, prompting his partner to follow suit. But their attention was called away again as the captain’s office door was flung open.

“Where are you going?” Hank asked, watching the man move fast; it was as fast as he would move if they were on a case.

“Oh, I need to go pick up something for someone. You two should go home, and enjoy Christmas Eve with your families. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he was gone. The two detectives sat there, dumbfounded.

“I’ll be damned; the captain has a lady.” Hank muttered to himself, stopping his work for a moment. Checking the time, Nick stretched his back while standing from the chair.

“Alright, you heard the man. Let’s get out of here. Hey, see you at dinner tomorrow night?” Burkhardt asked of his partner. Griffin nodded and followed suit; both men grabbing their jackets from the back of their chairs in order to leave.

“You know it. I’m not one to turn down a free meal.” Hank joked, stepping out into the parking lot of the precinct. The men said their goodbyes and made their ways home.

In the Calvert-Monroe household though, a full blown argument was about to boil over. They had been going at it since the subject was brought up at dinner. It had lasted from the appetizer, all the way to clean up before dessert.

“All I’m saying is that I would like to meet her boyfriend before he comes over. What if he’s a lowen?” Monroe complained, handing washed dishes to his girlfriend.

“Do you honestly think your sister would date a lowen?” Rosalee countered, drying off the plate to stack.

“You’re right. Still,” he continued, “I just don’t want her to date someone that’s just going to break her heart. I mean, all the guys in high school she liked were totally not for her.” The Blutbad paused for a moment, and rested his soapy wet hands against the sink. Setting down the towel, Rosalee wrapped her arms around her boyfriend and cradled his face.

“She really likes this guy, Monroe. Don’t go over board. Besides, he’s not the worst choice for her.” Turning back to the task at hand, it took the man a second too long to process what the Fuchsbau had said.

“Wait, do you know who she’s dating?” Monroe questioned, watching Rosalee’s face take on an air of faux innocence.

“Maybe. Maybe not. She didn’t explicitly tell me who it was. I just worked it out from what little she did tell me.” She began to place her dishes away, but it seemed that Monroe was not yet done.

“Come on, who is it? Who is she dating?” But the woman said nothing.

“Rosalee.” He growled out in a warning tone, to which she finally faced her boyfriend and rested her hands on her hips.

“The only thing I will say, is that you have met him before. That is it. Now, cake?” Rosalee went to retrieve the chocolate cake from the fridge, leaving Monroe there in the kitchen.

“I’m gonna be kept up all night now.” He complained, but followed his girlfriend into the dining room to have dessert.

The next morning, was a morning of rest. Christmas had come, and everyone was preparing for the festivities that would soon come. Sneaking out of her shared bedroom, a Blutbad began to make breakfast for her lover that was still asleep in their bed. It still astounded her that she could even call this place, this bed, this man, her’s.

Vegan sausages were being fried, toast, pancakes, and several smaller side dishes covered the counter in the kitchen. It continued to shock her at how far vegan alternatives had come as she put the fake eggs in the pan to scramble. As she cooked, two strong bare arms wrapped around her waist. A kiss was placed to her head from behind as the mystery arms relaxed.

“Good morning. It’s not often that I get breakfast made for me.” The voice grumbled out, still thick with sleep.

“Who says this is for you?” She teased. Making sure that nothing would burn, she turned briefly in the man’s arms to come face to face with him. Sage green eyes gazed lovingly into her own, but shut momentarily as they met for a kiss. Her lips molded to her own, and reluctantly she pulled away from the beautiful shirtless man before her, in favor of ensuring their breakfast would not be wasted.

“It’s almost done. Want to go ahead and start putting food on the table?” One last kiss was pressed to her head, along with a squeeze at her waist, and he was off. Soon, the whole table was littered with food.

“Thank you for making this.” He commented genuinely, holding her hand over the steaming food. Suddenly, she hoped up as if a light bulb went off in her head, and she made her way to the kitchen. When she came out yet again, a mug was in her hands this time around.

“What is that?” Came his question, taking the mug and maneuvering it next to his other cup of coffee.

“It’s one of your Christmas presents. Try it.” Sitting down, she watched with bated breath as he brought the mug to his lips, and took a tentative sip. His face lit up and he eagerly took another sip.

“This is delicious. What is it?” Another question, and he was reaching for her hand once more.

“It’s a tea blend from a friend’s shop. I thought it’d be nice to help you wind down after work.” She explained, happy that she was able to get one of two correct.

“This is wonderful. I genuinely appreciate this. Let’s eat though. You went through all this work.” And with that, they dug into the food that littered the table before them. It was not too much longer before they sat themselves on the couch, and enjoyed each others company with presents to either side.

“Here you go.” The man placed a rather heavy wrapped present in her lap, and watched her with eager eyes. She tore into the paper, and leveled her boyfriend with a look as she saw what she had.

“Really, Sean?” Her tone was dry, and she tried to fight the smile coming onto her face. However, with her boyfriend sporting one himself, it was rather hard.

“What? You could always use another book, and I thought you might enjoy the stories.” Said man tried to explain away.

“You gave me a collection of brothers Grimm fairytales!” She exclaimed.

“And you’re not wanting to read them?” He leveled her with another look, which made her shrink down into herself.

“Yes. I’m going to read them.” Muttering under her breath, she placed the book to her side and grasped the other box that was next to her. She placed it in her lover’s lap, and awaited his reaction. Sean gently unwrapped the present, and opened the box that was in his hands. His face dropped in surprise, and his eyes danced over the present he had.

“Do you like it?” Timidly, she inquired. There was no telling what his reaction was going to be. Sean’s hand reached in and pulled out the small object that was awaiting him. It was a ring. Tiny and unassuming, which described his lover but that was not what caught his attention. It was what was on the inside of the ring. An inscription dated September 23rd of that year; their anniversary.

“You don’t like it? It’s fine if you don’t. I just thought maybe you would. I can take it back though if you don’t want it. I’m sure I could at least get store-” she never finished her rambling, because her boyfriend had surged forward and captured her lips in his. They remained locked in their embrace for who knows how long, but she was pushed against the couch in the midst of it. Alas, they pulled away for some much needed oxygen.

“Do you like it?” She repeated her inquiry.

“I love it.” He replied, breathlessly. Helping her back up, Sean allowed her to slip the ring on to his left pinky finger. On the outside, it just looked like a simple silver band, but the fact that he knew that there was that inscription inside made it feel like a known secret. And it was all his.

“This is funny actually.” Sean reached behind him and found the box next to him once more. She was confused as to what he was talking about, and took the box gingerly from his hands. Opening, she let out a small chuckle as to what was inside.

“Now, now, you still have to get my brother on your side.” Once again, she was teasing him. He chuckled as well, but pulled the ring from the box.

“It’s a promise ring.” Sean slipped the ring on to her right ring finger. The emerald in the center, with the silver surrounding it instantly drew her eyes to the sparkling stone.

“This is going to turn some heads at dinner tonight.” Her mind could not help but think about what was going to happen.

“I’ll be right by your side.” Drawing her into his arms, Sean pressed a kiss to her head, and cradled her close.

A few hours later, the couple was dressed up and ready to leave. One last spray of perfume and the jewelry was placed on her body before they left for the evening. Her leg could not stop bouncing as they neared their destination. Sean reached over and held her thigh in hi grasp, which allowed her to calm down just enough. He parked on the side of the road and helped his girlfriend safely exit the car onto the icy sidewalks. They walked up to the door with stained glass, and she took a deep breath.

“You can still back out, you know?” She tried to tell her boyfriend, but he just held her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes.

“I’m not scared by meeting your family. It’s going to be fine.” Sean tried to reassure her.

“Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And with that, she knocked. Just a moment later, the door opened and revealed a festive looking Fuchsbau.

“You made it!” Rosalee cheered, hugging her boyfriend’s sister close. Letting go, she turned to face the man standing next to her.

“Captain.” She greeted politely, and held out her hand for him to shake.

“Rosalee. It’s good to see you again.” This confused the Blutbad standing between them.

“You know each other?” She wondered aloud. Renard and Rosalee looked at each other.

“I think you’ll find a lot of the people here have met each other at least once.” Rosalee responded cryptically. She pulled them in and out of the cold, before taking their coats to their spare room. The couple wandered through the house and found where the rest of the group was hanging around. She got to watch Sean’s eyes take in her brother’s Christmas decorations that littered the room. The sheer amount of tinsel, lights, and fake snow that was around the house was enough to make even the most Christmasy person take a step back. There was a pause as everyone stopped to stare at the couple.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Monroe stated, setting down his beer. Nick, Juliette, and Hank all turned to face where the Blutbad was staring.

“Captain? Nice to see you?” Nick drawled out confused, and followed his friend’s motion.

“Roe, everyone, this is Sean. But I’m guessing that you all know each other.” She was looking around at the rest of the guests.

“Oh, you’re dying now.” Rounding the corner at an incredible speed, there were shouts as Monroe grabbed the collar of Sean’s more casual sweater she had convinced him to wear instead of his suit. He shoved the zauberbiest against a wall, narrowly missing some decorations as he woged. By this point, Nick and Hank were trying desperately to pull him off of the man, while Juliette and Rosalee were holding and shielding the other Blutbad.

“What are you playing at? What do you want that you feel the need to date my sister?” Monroe growled out, eyes no longer human but red and black and unearthly.

“I am not dating her for a plan. I love her for her.” Sean held up his hands in surrender.

“Roe, let him go.” His sister growled, stepping out from behind the women. The man in question turned his head and let the woge fade back into his skin

“This man is not who he says he is. He’s a royal, little sis. He only told you he loves you to find a way to fit into his plans. Whatever they are.” The longer he spoke, the angrier his sister became.

“I know he’s half-royal, Roe. But that doesn’t mean that Sean doesn’t love me. Now get off of him.” Fully woge out, she grabbed her brother’s arm and threw him back enough to create some distance. The three men that were currently in front of Sean were replaced by one angry Blutbad woman. Her woge disappeared as soon as it came, and she checked in on her boyfriend.

“It’s been lovely seeing everyone, but if this is how it’s going to be, we’ll be leaving.” She said after whispering to Sean for a few moments. It shocked everyone in the room. Rosalee went to reluctantly grab their coats, while everyone else stared at Monroe with pointed glares.

“Wait!” The Blutbad called just before the couple left the party. Sean was helping her into her coat when they paused. He was entirely following her lead on this, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable or unwanted.

“I’m- I’m sorry, okay? You’re my sister and I’m always going to be protective of you. But you are an adult so I need to accept your choice. I’ll tone it down just, please, stay for dinner?” He was keeping his eyes on his sister, who returned with a less believable stare.

“You’re allowed to ask him three questions about our relationship, and three about himself. That’s it.” She replied, allowing Sean to once again, help her out of her coat. Rosalee took it back and happily went to set them on the bed once more. Monroe pulled his sister into a bear hug in the foyer of his home. When they pulled away, Sean stepped up to properly greet the Blutbad.

“You hurt my sister, I’ll break my pledge.” Monroe stared the half zauberbiest dead in the eye as he shook his hand. Renard brought out a smirk, and shook the man’s hand firmly.

“I’m slowly starting to realize the amount of people who will hurt me if I hurt her, including her.” He replied smoothly. The couple were pulled back into the fray easily. Everyone was laughing and eating, and in general, just having a great time. Looking at each other over their glasses of wine, and plates of food, Sean gave her a small wink, and held her hand. With the other, he thumbed a small velvet box the was in the pocket of his slacks. Perhaps next Christmas she would be more than a girlfriend. He needs to get through to her brother first.

[soulofapatrick]

Sanctuary - Nick Burkhardt x Female Reader

Summary: You go to Nick's after getting attacked Wesen

Words: 2.3k

Warning: Fighting; hurt x comfort

Y/N’s POV

The adrenaline surges through my veins, drowning out the pain from the attackers’ blows. All three are wesen, throwing words at me but I can barely hear them over the ringing in my ears, they’re growling something about being friends with a Grimm or something. Fear, anger and desperation collide within me as I manage to dig my elbow into one of their sides and he loses his grip on me enough for me to wriggle to freedom and make a break for it. 

I sprint through the dimly lit streets, each step being agony and I think I’ve definitely broken my ankle as pain radiates up my leg with each step. The only thought echoing through my mind is, “Gotta get to Nick’s.” My Fuchsbau instincts cream danger, urging me to push myself almost beyond my own limits. The night air bites at my skin, my own blood feeling warm as it seeps from all my injuries, but the urge to seek refuge at Nick’s house drives me forwards. I can’t let them catch me again, not when the safety of a Grimm and my friend awaits so close. 

My breaths come in ragged gasps, chest heaving, legs burning with exertion. The familiar route to Nick’s house feels longer tonight, every street corner a potential ambush. Yet, the determination to reach the one place I know they won’t come to fuels my sprint. 

Finally, the familiar facade of Nick’s house emerges, a beacon of hope in the darkness. I trip my way up the stairs on the porch and practically collapse against the door, my knuckles pounding against it, desperation evident in the urgency of my knocks. Every second feeling like an eternity until the door swings open and Nick is having to step forwards to catch me as my legs give way now the door isn’t there to support me and the adrenaline is fading into the blinding agony. 

“Y/N’s?! What… Wh-“ 

“They came out of nowhere,” I manage to choke out through the tears that bubbled up, making me choke, “They cut me, they tore at me, they…” 

Nick’s arms envelope me, holding me tightly against his chest. His touch feels like an anchor, grounding me amidst the chaos of my emotions. His face is buries in my hair, I feel the tremors of anger vibrating through me as his hisses, “Those bastards,” His voice is laced with a raw fury I’ve only heard once before, “I won’t let them get away with this.” 

His words though soft, resonate with a promise. A promise of protection, of retribution. His anger reverberates against my skin, soothing the ache of vulnerability with the reassurance that he’s willing to stand up for me despite his ancestors going out of their way to kill Wesen. I just cling to him, seeking solace in his embrace, grateful for the solidarity and the unspoken vow to right the wrongs inflicted upon us. 

Nick's reassurance is a steady comfort, his promise a shield against the darkness closing in. "Let's get you cleaned up," he murmurs, his voice now a soothing balm after the storm of anger. His hands move gently over my skin, rubbing away the residue of fear and pain.

I nod weakly, unable to voice my gratitude, and he leads me up the stairs to his room. The familiarity of his space brings a sense of safety, a respite from the chaos outside. He offers to run me a bath, but I shake my head, not ready to face the vulnerability of soaking in water when every touch stings and I’m gripping onto Nick’s sleeve not wanting him to leave me. 

“Hey,” his voice is a gentle caress, his hand covering mine that grips his sleeve tightly, “I’ll be right back, okay? Just going to grab the first aid kit.” 

Reluctantly, I release my grip, watching as he heads to the bathroom. Alone in his room, I take in the familiar surroundings—the soft glow of the lamp on the nightstand, the reassuring scent of his cologne lingering in the air. It’s a respite from the chaos outside, a sanctuary in the midst of turmoil. I hear the faint sounds of Nick rummaging in the bathroom, a distant echo of comfort. In that feeling moment, I let myself breathe, trying to steady my nerves and wipe away the tears while awaiting his return. 

Less than a minute later, Nick reappears, first aid kit in hand. His presence aline brings a sense of security, the knowledge he’s here to help and trusts me enough to be in his room, to mend not just physical wounds but also the motional toll of the attack. 

He settles beside me once more, his touch gentle yet purposeful as he tends to the injury on my shoulder. The warmth of his care washes over me, a reminder that despite the dangers lurking in the shadows, there are allies, friends willing to stand by me. 

He reaches for a damp cloth, cleaning the blood from my face with careful strokes. His movements are tender, a silent understanding passing between us. I offer no resistance as, with my silent consent, he helps me shed the dirty, blood-stained clothes, leaving me in just my underwear before him. 

Awareness prickles along my skin, a sudden rush of self-consciousness as I sit there, exposed and vulnerable in front of Nick, my long-term crush. The air between us feels charged, heavy with unspoken sentiments and a history that goes beyond mere friendship. I can’t help but wrap my arms around my already bruising sides, covering the galaxies of reds, purples, blues and greens from his sight and mine. 

My arms involuntarily wrap around my bruised sides, shielding the kaleidoscope of colours from both Nick’s sight and my own. Despite the comforting reassurance in his presence, the vulnerability of this moment hangs heavy in the air. 

A wave of emotions crashes over me, leaving me momentarily breathless. Before I can retreat further into myself, Nick’s rough yet gentle hands cups my cheek, guiding my face to look at him. His eyes hold a tenderness that sends a tremor through me. 

“Don’t hide.” He murmurs, his voice a soft reassurance, “You’re… beautiful.” 

His words hold a weight that goes beyond physical appearances. They echo with a understanding, a depth of connection that transcends the bruises and scars. For a moment, silence envelopes us, thick and sweet, wrapping around us like a cocoon. 

In that suspended moment, I feel the shift in the air, a subtle change that sparks anticipation and nerves alike. Nick ducks his head towards me as if he’s going to kiss me and my pulse skyrockets as I must still be on the floor and the wesen have beaten me half to death. I must be dreaming this but no, Nick’s lips brush against mine in a soft, tentative kiss. 

The touch is gentle, a whispered promise of shared feelings, a tender exploration of them. His kiss holds a tenderness that mingles with he weight of unspoken words, a silent understanding passing between us in a stolen moment. But he’s pulling away almost too quickly, a nervous look in his eyes before we both break into relieved smiles. 

He presses a chaste kiss to my forehead, his touch lingering for a heartbeat longer, “I need to Monroe and Hank,” He says softly, his voice carrying a mixture of reassurance and a hint of lingering emotions, “Pick what you want from my wardrobe sweetheart, I’ll be right downstairs.” He goes to leave before pausing in the doorway, “You’re safe.” 

Watching him leave the room, I’m left sitting there, feeling a blend of emotions sweating within me. It’s a dizzying mix of elation and disbelief, a rush of happiness tempered by the weight of uncertainty. Nick’s reciprocal feelings, evident in tat fleeting kiss, send a surge of warmth through me, yet doubt lingers in the corners of my mind. 

In the quiet of his room, I take a moment to gather my thoughts. The realising that Nick might share the same feelings leaves me in awe, tingling sensation in my chest that’s both thrilling and overwhelming. 

I pull myself to my feet ignoring the pain in my ankle, hobbling to his chest of drawers and sifting through them, picking out some clothes, my mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. There’s a sense of joy and wonder at the prospect of Nick returning my affections, mingled with a hint of trepidation. If this is what they’re willing to do to me for being friends with Nick what would they do if they knew I was with Nick? 

I shake those thoughts from my head, getting dressed in the slightly oversized clothes before heading towards the stairs. Each step is a reminder of the lingering pain, but the warmth of Nick’s home offers solace and a sense of security. 

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Nick finishing up his call, likely with Hank. He rushes over as I approach, concern etched into his features. With careful guidance, he leads me to the couch, settling me down with gentle ease. 

In a rush of confidence, my heart pounding with a mix of nerves and boldness, I reach out and grab the collars of his button-up shirt, tugging him closer. For a moment, it’s as if gravity itself conspires against us as he nearly topples over, catching himself of the back and arm of the sofa before he can fall onto me properly. A chuckle leaving him, a sound seems to soothe the lingering tension in the air. There’s a warmth in his laughter, an acknowledgement of the unexpected situation, yet his eyes hold a glimmer of affection. 

“Careful there,” He teases gently, adjusting his position to sit properly on the couch, our shoulders touching. The closeness feels both natural and electrifying but, it’s not enough for me. I need him closer, I need to kiss him again and it’s as if he’s thinking the same thing. He turns his head to face me, lips parted as if he’s going to say something but then those entrancing eyes flick down my own lips and it’s like all self-control snaps. 

His large hands are gripping my waist and carefully he’s sitting me on his lap so I’m straddling him, knees either side and injured ankle hanging off the couch and out of harms way. One of his hands moves up my side and to my cheek, eyes searching my face for any doubts before he’s drawing me into a much more heated kiss than before. 

The kiss is an inferno, a collision of emotions and unspoken yearnings. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with mine in a dance of passion and tenderness. There’s a hunger in the way out lips move together, each touch igniting a spark that blurs the lines between us. Nick’s scent surrounds me, a blend of his cologne and the natural warmth of his skin, an intoxicating mix that fills my sense. His hand, firm yet gentle on my cheek, anchors me in the moment, while my hands find their way to the front of his shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons, needing to feel the skin beneath. 

As the kiss deepens, it feels like the world around us fades away, leaving only the heat of our connection, the rhythm of our heartbeats echoing in sync. Nick’s hand, initially resting on my cheek, moves to tangle in my hair, a silent invitation that sets my nerves alight. His other hand pulls me closer, drawing me flush against him, erasing any remaining distance between us. 

The kiss deepens even more, a silent battle for dominance as our desires collide. There’s a fiery passion in the way our lips move together, a dance of intertwined emotions and unspoken longing.

Feeling the tension between us, Nick tugs gently on my hair, eliciting a gasp that grants him entry. His tongue slips into the kiss, a rush of heat and longing intertwining with every movement. It's a dance of desire, a symphony of shared emotions as our tongues meet in a passionate tango, exploring, and claiming.

The symphony of our passion seems to carry us into a realm beyond the confines of times and space. Lost in the embrace of the moment, we barely register the sound of the front door opening. Hank, Rosalee and Monroe’s voices call out Nick’s name, their footsteps echoing through the house, shattering the intimacy between us. 

Before I can slide off Nick’s lap, three sets of footsteps echo into the room. Rosalee, ever perceptive, swiftly ushers Hank and Monroe straight past us and into the kitchen, an unspoken understanding flashing between our fleeting eye contact. 

There’s a fleeting moment of shock that lingers in the air, our gazes meeting with a shared sense of urgency. I scramble to disentangle myself from Nick's lap, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and the remnants of passion, crying out in pain at putting pressure on my ankle which has the three rushing back in. 

Nick, composed yet flustered, adjusts himself as we both regain our composure. The interruption feels like a cold splash of reality, abruptly yanking us back from the heated moment we shared and he’s helping me sit down again. Pressing another loving kiss to my forehead before murmuring, “Get some sleep, let me talk to them. I’ll be here when you wake.” 

I hesitate as Nick rises to his feet, eyes soft as he says one word quietly, “Sleep.”  And it’s the last thing I hear before I find myself passing out from exhaustion, a smile on my kiss-swollen lips. 

Grimm Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

home. ( nick burkhardt x reader )

gif belongs to me

Your relationship with Alexander was complicated. There were times when you missed confiding in him, but most of the time, lately, when he popped in and out of your life, you wished he would stay away. You knew that when you started dating a Grimm that news would travel quickly in the Wesen community and reach your ex-fiancée but you hadn't expected Alex to return to your life after keeping his distance for so long.

Since you broke off your engagement, you hadn't spoken to Alexander, but since news reached him that you were dating Nick, you had seen him more in the past few months than in the six years before you met the Grimm. He would stop by when Nick was gone - asking you to pass on a message to the Grimm whose annoyance with the council and your ex was growing.

It was clear that Alexander still had feelings for you, and when he found Alexander sitting on the couch, awaiting his arrival, Nick wondered for a moment if you did too. Alex's suits cost more than he made in a month, and Nick couldn't help feeling a little jealous knowing that financially Alex could give you more, and being a Pflichttreue you would be embraced by your community again instead of shunned for dating a Grimm.

You were preparing dinner with Rosalee, waiting for Nick and Monroe to arrive, when Alexander knocked on the door. He was surprised when Rosalee answered the door but didn't show it, the Fuchsbau reluctantly calling out to you.

You sighed as you looked at the Pflichttreue, opening the door wider and raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"What is it, Alex?"

"I have a request from the council. Is Nick home?" You shook your head. "I'll wait." You turned to him when he entered and closed the door as you headed to the kitchen, sending Nick a text message before looking at Alexander.

"Since when does the council consult a Grimm?" You asked.

Alexander ignored the Fuchsbau's stare, her eyes darting between you and him curiously.

"Tea?" You offered Alex who nodded, thanking you. You sent a fleeting smile and presented him with a cup of tea just the way he liked it a few minutes later, before checking on dinner.

Monroe arrived first, and the Blutbad was unsuccessful in trying to extract information from Alex about his visit. You knew he wouldn't tell anyone except Nick, especially if he was ordered to do so.

Alexander approached the stove, advising that the sautéed potatoes needed more spices. While you were dating, Alex frequently surprised you with a lovely dinner, and knowing first-hand he was a great cook, you took his advice.

Nick arrived ten minutes later while dinner was kept warm in the oven, he looked at Monroe and Rosalee, and then his concerned gaze shifted to yours.

"Are you okay?"

You sent him a small smile and a nod.

"How long have you been here?" He asked Alexander.

"A couple of hours," Alexander replied with a hint of annoyance. He wanted to state that you had nothing to fear from him, as he would never hurt you. Your engagement ended due to your differences, you argued before he left to meet with the council and while you wanted to live among Kehrseite's and hold onto the Wesen way of life, Alexander always maintained that the council would never let that happen and since he was an enforcer for the Wesen council, it led to many fights when you disagreed with a decision the council had made. Eventually, after four years, you had to walk away and you met Nick six years later shortly after Marie died.

"An hour and a half." You supplied, crossing your arms.

Alexander walked a few paces, looking at the ground before meeting Nick's gaze, and the Grimm took notice of the glance you shared with the Pflichttreue. "I need your help."

"Really?" Nick asked disbelievingly. Although you had been dating for a few years, engaged for less than a month, he was certain Alex just popped in and out of his life to find a reason to see you. "I didn't know you asked Grimm's for help."

"Depends on the circumstances," Alex replied. "And the Grimm."

"Well, what do you think I can do for you?"

"The Beati Paoli. You've heard of them?"

You stood straighter, glancing at Alex who was locked in a staring contest with your fiancée, looking at Nick when he spoke. You knew the two would never get along and you had confronted Nick one night when it felt like he was interrogating you regarding Alexander and you knew both men would never see eye to eye. You knew Alexander still had feelings for you, he had confessed as much, and while you still loved him, it was a different kind of love. You had known each other a long time before you started dating, and you would always care about him - even when he was a pain in the ass.

"I have." And Nick knew Alex knew this. He wouldn't have a reason to be here otherwise, and Nick wasn't in the mood to play games, wanting to get straight to the point.

"Are you aware that the man you are after is a member?" Alexander broke the stare, moving around a few paces, stopping on your right side, and your eyes followed the Pflichttreue. 

You knew exactly what he was capable of. He was an enforcer for the council, and you had seen him in a fight more than once. You worried about him back then, a part of you still did despite the frustration you felt when he popped in and out of your life unannounced.

"Carl Herman?" You spoke up, drawing Alexander's gaze, which Nick noticed still softened with affection. 

"Yes."

"Look," Nick drew his attention as he put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, "I don't care what group he belongs to. He's a murderer."

Despite the councils' strong stances on certain matters you knew, they would frown upon Herman, seeing his actions as being a threat to the secrecy of Wesen life.

"We don't condone what the Beati Paoli does. We also don't usually get in their way." Alexander replied.

"But you do believe that they were preserving Wesen culture." You looked at Alexander, who held your gaze for a moment. It was a frequent disagreement in your relationship. You believed Wesen could live alongside humans while Alexander worked to ensure they never knew Wesen existed.

"We also feel strongly that Wesen remains should not be put on display. It's disrespectful." You licked your lips, raising your eyebrows fleetingly before looking away from him. "And dangerous to the Wesen community."

You heard about the exhibit before the murder and were upset about it. Nick was surprised that the exhibit was actually a mummified Wesen, but knew there was nothing you could do that was within the law.

Alexander averted his gaze to Nick, "But by killing the guard, he's gone too far. The council wants him stopped," You looked at Alexander and then at your fiancée with a frown.

Nick, however, did not understand Alexander's hidden meaning. "If you came here to kill him, I'm gonna tell you right now I'm not going to let that happen."

"We know," Alexander replied, closing his eyes briefly as he turned his head to meet your glare.

"The council wants you to stop him." You explained to Nick, seeing the way Monroe and Rosalee shared a glance. "Permanently."

Alexander turned to Nick, nodding slowly. "Which is why I'm going to tell you what I know." He began, "Carl Herman will make another attempt." 

It made sense why he was so determined to give the Anubis a proper burial, being one himself.

"And you know this how?" Nick asked skeptically.

"Because he called the council and asked for help stealing it tonight."

"What did you tell him?"

"That he's violated council law by killing the Kehrseite. Which is a capital crime." Alexander explained. 

"You want me to kill him?" Nick asked with disbelief. 

"You're a Grimm that's what you do."

"He's different." You growled, walking away from Alex to stand beside Nick. "And he's not for hire."

Alexander met your gaze before walking towards the doorway. 

"I'm not going to execute him for the council," Nick told him, turning to watch as the Pflichttreue made his way to the front door.

Alex turned, "He needs to be dealt with. Soon. I believe he's going to ask Professor Gates for her help whether or not she's willing to give it." He looked at his watch, "Yes, you don't have much time. Neither do I, I have a plane to catch." You held his gaze when he looked up and knew he was lying. He looked at Nick, wishing him good luck before leaving the house.

You sighed as you looked at Monroe when he broke the silence that followed. "Was it me? Or was that weird?"

"The council has been known to hire Grimm's before." You looked at Nick worriedly, "What are you going to do?"

He sighed, shaking his head, "I don't know yet. First, I have to find Herman."

You knew the dinner was ruined and knew it was going to be a long night. You knew Alex was up to something, and intended to find out what. When Nick left with Rosalee and Monroe, you waited until they drove off before heading to your car and driving to the university.

You broke into the offices and found out where the Anubis was being held. You shined your flashlight on the Pflichttreue and he turned, sighing when he saw it was you.

"You are a bad liar." You stepped forward and held the box, preparing to help him carry it. "You really need to work on that."

Alexander smirked, carrying the Anubis to the university van he was stealing. "I will be getting on a plane once I give him a respectful send-off." 

You grunted, pushing the box into the van and turning to him with intrigue, raising an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes when he smirked and got into the van, glancing at him as he drove off.

Alexander had done extensive research into the Anubis to ensure that the mummy was given the proper ceremonial burial. Nick caught up to you both in the early hours of the morning, seeing the mummy on a wooden pyre that was burning.

He slowed to a walk as Rosalee explained what you had done. The Fuchsbau stood next to you, and you turned your head to look at the Grimm with a small, apologetic smile. He inwardly sighed, standing next to Monroe as he stood with Rosalee.

He watched as the four of you woged before looking at the burning Anubis mummy.

You walked with your arm looped with Nick's once it was over, heading to the car, explaining that you knew Alexander was lying about the plane and that you wanted to give the Anubis a respectful burial. He understood your reasoning, having seen how upset you were when you discovered the exhibit.

He turned to you with a small smile, "I would've understood if you had told me."

"I know." You placed a hand on his cheek, "I forgot sometimes how unique you are." You closed your eyes when he held your waist, kissing you tenderly. 

You pulled away to see Alexander heading to a car driven by another member of the council. You looked at Nick, who merely smiled, nodding for you to catch up with him.

You jogged over to the car, calling out to Alex, who turned, his hand resting on the open door. You sighed as you stood in front of him, blocked by the door.

"If it's any consolation, I am catching a flight in two hours."

You smiled softly, "How is everyone?"

Alexander mirrored the smile as he caught you up on his family, telling you that his mother asked about you often.

"You know, she still thinks we'll get married." He said, "For a while, I did too. But I can see that some things are better left in the past." Before you could speak, he continued, "I'm glad that you found happiness. Can't say that I didn't wish it was with me." He sent you a smile that held sadness but also revealed his feelings for you, and you knew that there was always a part of you both that would love each other but it was different now. 

"Take care of yourself."

Alexander sent one last smile, "Until the next time," and got into the car. You stepped back, watching the car drive off, waving goodbye to the Pflichttreue.

Nick approached you, and you sent the Grimm a smile when he placed a hand on your back. "Everything okay?"

"For now. I know he'll come back, and I'll want to kill him again."

Nick laughed, smiling as you leaned into him, resting a hand on his chest, and placing an arm around his back as you headed to his car.

"I love you." You met his gaze when he turned his head.

"I love you too." He kissed your cheek before opening the car door for you.

When you got home, you took a shower and were exhausted, as you laid beside him. You rested your head on his chest, and Nick wrapped his arm around you. His other hand rested on his stomach, and you smiled serenely as you held your hand against his, watching your fingers intertwine, his thumb brushing the engagement ring on your finger.

For a while, you lay in content silence, both lost in your thoughts. Nick was the first to break it.

You may have lost your old friends, but you had made stronger bonds with Monroe and Rosalee. You had found a new family, and you couldn't wait to expand it further with Nick.

"Do you ever regret it?" He asked quietly, referring to your relationship.

The Wesen community had shunned you, and Alexander was the only one from your life before Nick to talk to you. You were always adamant that you didn't care, but Nick knew that you just didn't want to upset him and kept it to yourself. He had seen how his mother reacted when he told her that you were dating and how her attitude towards you affected you, which had led to a confrontation between mother and son. Before her death, things did improve, and when you got engaged, you felt as if you had finally been accepted by his mother who had congratulated you both.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, "Not for a second."

He smiled softly, exhaling the breath he had been subconsciously holding, and placed his hand on your cheek, holding you closer as you kissed.

Wherever Nick was, that was your home, and you wouldn't change a single thing.

[aarcanechaoss]

In the Shadows

Masterlist

Meet the Wesen of Yokohama

Yokohama's true head of the Port Mafia

Natsuko (Ichiyo) Higuchi -> Hexenbiest

And all her loyal companions:

Yukichi Fukuzawa -> Inugami

Ryuurou Hirotsu -> Blutbad

Kenji Miyazawa -> Blutbad

Kouyou Ozaki -> Dämonfeuer

Ango Sakaguchi -> Steinadler

Paul Verlaine -> Fuchsbau

Tetcho Suehiro -> Fuchsbau

Ranpo Edogawa -> Grimm

^^ Ranpo is our Nick

[metataxy]

Remember Khloe, the Musae in like S2?  What if Nick DID sleep with her?  And what if she was pregnant when Renard ran her out of town?

I can just imagine her having a girl.  Fast-forward 12 years, and that girl turns out to a Grimm--she’s an early bloomer like her grandma Kelly Burkhardt.  Khloe wouldn’t actually care that her daughter’s a Grimm, except half her lovers are wesen, and most of THEM certainly do care.  It takes all her enchantment to convince them not to behead her daughter, and detracts from the energy she can put into inspiring her would-be artists.  Clearly, this situation isn’t sustainable.  So she ships the girl off to live with her father.  

The girl herself had, up until this point, no idea who her father was, much less that he was a Grimm.  Khloe expected her to be a Musae--she expected to be a Musae--so the fact that she had a father was pretty insignificant, right up until her eyes began turning rim-to-rim black.  Her Mom ships her to Portland with a friend, since Renard still prohibits Musae from crossing into his Principality under pain of death, and she gets dropped unceremoniously on Nick and Juliette’s doorstep (bc Nick/Juliette, sue me).

Nothing too exciting happens after that.  

Juliette’s nonchalant about the new addition to their household, because by this point, she’s basically spent ten years cooperatively parenting Kelly Schade-Burkhardt with Adalind Schade.  The worst she does is jibe Nick as to when she can expect to learn about the rest of his love-children.  Also, if some of the local wesen were displeased to hear about Blutbud/Fuchsbau babies, they (and not a few Grimm), were even more alarmed at the prospect of Grimm/Hexenbiest children.  Since for safety reasons, neither Juliette nor Adalind could get a regular babysitter for their kids, the whole lot of them (and the Monroe/Calvert kids, because why not) grow up between their houses.  

Beyond all this, the rituals that changed Juliette into a Hexenbiest bind her close to Adalind as a sister.  She shares the Schade family magic, and she even shares some genetics with Adalind--enough to be flagged as a cousin.  Hexenbiest always raise their children with close female relatives.  As far as Diana is concerned, Juliette’s daughters are her sisters.

Sean Renard also ends up babysitting.  Partly, this is because he wants to be close to his daughter and heir, and Diana and her pseudo-siblings come as a package-deal.  But it’s also because he can see the benefits of cultivating familial loyalty to himself and his daughter among a pack of baby Grimm and Hexenbiest.  And, he supposes, the Monroe/Calvert children aren’t an unwise investment either.  Their parents certainly proved their worth many times over in a thousand small demonstrations of skill and good sense.

The only person who ends up slightly annoyed with the whole arrangement is Nick’s son Kelly.  He’s pissed because, like his father, he doesn’t Grimm up until well past the point anyone expected it to happen--long after his father and Juliette’s kids Grimm up or woge.  Poor dude.

[grimmmviewing]

S1E19: “Leave it to Beavers”—C+ (Watched 6/22/24)

“All the time we’ve spent together. All the… sneakin’ around. God, suddenly it just seems so wrong.”

One thread I keep returning to while watching Grimm is the lack of true “monster of the week” stories. On the one hand, I can appreciate how that might make each episode feel more important, but I do think that there are benefits to having what amount to “breaks” from the main plot. In the case of Grimm, for example, both of the previous episodes have been very big-feeling stories: “Love Sick” is the culmination of a conflict that technically started all the way back in the first episode when Adalind tried to kill Nick’s aunt Marie in the hospital, while “Cat and Mouse” was focused on the larger forces at play in the world (or at least on their proxies) and was very tense. Having a week after all that to essentially… chill would give the audience a chance to depressurize and the writers a chance to focus on a smaller-scale or more contained-feeling story.

From the title alone, “Leave it to Beavers” has a bit of that vibe. It’s based on one of the more widely-recognizable fairytale concepts of trolls and bridges, and it could have been an opportunity to luxuriate in the relative simplicity of just doing a fun adaptation in the Grimm signature style—which we do kind of get up to a point with a mobster-adjacent troll-like being killing a beaver man at a construction site. Another beaver witnesses the murder, goes into hiding, and needs convincing to come forward with what he knows.

It’s not too dark but still mixes the grittiness of a modern, “realistic” setting with the fantastical elements, as Grimm does, with solid-enough potential. But then the plot essentially gets highjacked when the ostensible antagonist, Salvadore, calls in the Reapers in order to deal with Nick. They’ve been absent from the serialized plot for a while, but two of them roll into town, and they capture and brutally interrogate Salvadore and then force him to draw Nick to them. This is a fun twist on one level, given how Salvadore gets upstaged as the episode’s major threat, but it also, on another level, over-complicates the story by making it yet another Big Picture sort of narrative. The way that the episode incorporates the friendly neighborhood Wesen from earlier in the season (most prominently Bud, the refrigerator repairman) is a more minor, more acceptable (to me) bit of serialization.

An interesting thematic element of “Leave it to Beavers” is the heavy focus it places on Wesen natures and whether those things are unchangeable or not. This has obviously been a part of the show from the very beginning with Monroe, a “reformed Blutbad,” and it’s pretty important in the episode “Tarantella” since a similarly non-predatory-by-choice Wesen, a Spinnetod this time, helps Nick understand his not-so-reformed quarry. Something I didn’t previously emphasize about “Cat and Mouse” is how the gang’s impromptu ploy to defeat a Verrat assassin includes throwing him off balance by letting him think Monroe is a Fuchsbau and then revealing that he’s actually a Blutbad. I just found the final confrontation kind of awkward at first, but then I went back to the episode and remembered the earlier old film from the trailer that Nick watches that explains how the Verrat executed Wesen in Spain for “marrying outside their own breed.” The assassin, Edgar Waltz, thinks that Monroe is Rosalee’s boyfriend and that he’s a Fuchsbau, only to then see Monroe “woge” into Blutbad form, so maybe the apparent Wesen miscegenation is part of what throws Waltz off balance so hard.

In “Leave it to Beavers,” there’s a long-standing extortion racket going on between the trolls and beavers, with the latter group being too weak and fearful by nature to do anything about it. They have a whole meeting and vote as a community to decide if the murder witness, Arnold, should come forward or not, and they overwhelmingly vote against action (though Arnold eventually comes around on his own). In the wake of this vote, Bud tells Nick “bravery isn’t in [their] nature,” but Nick emphasizes Bud’s courage in coming right up to his (Nick, a Grimm) house and how that bucks the supposed innate cowardice.

This sort of… role reversal has served as a twist in some previous episodes, like in “The Three Bad Wolves” when a killer of Blutbaden is revealed to be a pig man, or in “Of Mouse And Man” when rodent Marty is similarly a killer of bigger and stronger men and Wesen. The bear family all the way back in “Bears Will Be Bears” is another example of how Wesen behavior isn’t just a matter of nature, given that the conflict ends up hinging on a split in the family over following (bloodthirsty) tradition. It’s sort of a subversion of the title, which is a play on the odious “Boys Will Be Boys,” that suggests nature is immutable and that any action potentially attributable to that nature must therefore be excusable. And yet, there are characters in Grimm who are no better than their natures—whole species, like Waltz the Hundjäger or the Hexenbeist and Geier creatures. Of course the beavers in this episode own a construction company, while the trolls work in an inspectatory capacity that lets them charge the equivalent of their fairytale toll. The show also positively delights at times in matching character natures and names, like Charlotte the spider lady or the antagonistic Adalind Schade (“shade”). This excess of something like neatness is fitting stuff for a fairytale, which is meant to operate at a certain remove from the complexity/chaos of reality, but it fits awkwardly in the mix Grimm has created, with its elements of “realism.”

An argument that could be made here is that the Wesen, despite looking human a lot of the time (for budgetary reasons as much as reasons of lore) are not human. There’s that animal component that I was so happy to see emphasized with some Fuchsbau purring in “Cat and Mouse.” Where being so deterministic with truly human characters would be problematic, it’s more excusable when the people aren’t people. There’s a historical problem with the grey area you get into with anthropomorphized animal characters, though, or in cases where animals are meant to be stand-ins for humans. One of my favorite children’s book series—Brian Jacques’ Redwall—stumbles into this, with the characters having things like their capacity for violence or even their ability to be good or evil as good as determined by their species. These are ostensibly animals, but a lot of their behavior and the types of stories Jacques is telling is/are recognizably human. As I’ve demonstrated, Grimm is definitely already interrogating (or at least playing with) this issue itself, but I found myself thinking while watching “Leave it to Beavers” about the theoretical “evil” Wesen that might have aspirations beyond, say, bullying beavers and how that might play out. Is it possible to be born a Klaustreich and not abuse your significant other? Monroe typically speaks with so much confidence regarding the natures of the Wesen Nick encounters, but I think the fact that they all look so human makes this feel a bit uncomfortable, and I’m interested to see what other support (in either direction) the series offers as it goes on.

Speaking of having an immutable nature: It is very funny how Nick gets his New Wesen Intro from Bud this time, but it still sounds almost exactly like Monroe to my ear, like the writers really only have one approach to writing these info dumps…

(Also, this episode is “fine” overall. I didn’t have many notes initially, but there are the usual bits and pieces I could get into, like how Nick finally attempting to train/grow his vague powers feels wildly overdue to me, but him getting to use the Grimm weapons he trained with at the start of the episode to defeat the Reapers at the end is very cute. Nick and Monroe figuring out how to have dinner with Juliette without accidentally saying anything Grimm-related—and then how that falls apart—is delightful and is also exactly the sort of thing that could be given more room to breathe in less serialized episodes, I feel!

“The Lodge” meeting and voting about Arnold was also something I very much enjoyed since it serves as an example of wider Wesen society, where we normally seem to just meet individuals or little groups. Decapitating the Reapers and sending their heads back as a warning is one of those things that probably verges on uncomfortably dark, while the bouncier energy of the scene where Bud tries to convince Arnold to stop hiding in a basement felt more appropriate, in my subjective opinion.

And so on. I thought the earlier paragraphs were more interesting than just running through the “usual” list of details.)

[robot-rarepairs-dotcom]

Jumps at you like a cat

HELLO. I bring more ScavProw EXCEPT. I'm mixing in something fun;

✨️Wesen✨️

Prowl is a Drang-Zorn and Scaveger is either a Fuchsbau or a Coyotl (maybe a Eisbiber idk)

Prowl keeping Scav safe from other Wesen who wanna use him an stuff.....

I'll go away now-!

I don’t really know what Wesen is I had to look it up but I agree I love Scavprowl🩷

[linusbenjamin]

Grimm 1.15 | Island of Dreams

[writinginthesecrettrees]

One thing I don't understand about the anti-mixed marriage wesen storyline is...

Rosalee and Monroe are not the first inter-wesen relationship on the show? And it's never really been presented as a problem before? Like the circus couple. Or Juliette's Fuchsbau friend who married a Klaustreich.

But now alluvasudden it's a big deal with the wesen KKK doing terror attacks on Monroe and Rosalee. Like.

Where's the continuity?

[indoraptorgirlwind]

Wesen Moodboards

Fuchsbau (German: Fox Hole)

Generally deemed as "liars" by the Wesen community, Fuchsbaus may deal with shady transactions. Despite this, Fuchsbaus are loyal and friendly to those whom they consider friends. They generally prefer to avoid confrontation; however, they will fight when forced to do so. They will fight for causes they believe in.

Male Fuchsbaus can have a bit of a propensity to philander.

Notables: Rosalee Calvert, Ryan Showalter, Freddy Calvert, Gloria Calvert, DeEtta Calvert, Ian Harmon, Alicia

[le-amewzing]

Back to Normal

My first ever Grimm fic, let alone Monrosalee… :') Originally done for a forum exchange. *Note: This is set during s3, after they move in together but pre-engagement and marriage.

Fic: "Back to Normal" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: established!Rosalee Calvert/Monroe, Juliette Silverton, with cameos from Nick Burkhardt & Hank Griffin

Rating: light T

Words: ~5,970

Additional info: romance, friendship, light angst, fluff, humor, 3rd person POV

Summary: Rosalee and Monroe, adjusting to this new life together, have a handle on things. And then, of course, there's a mishap in the spice shop.

      "What are you mixing up today?"

      Rosalee smiled as Monroe walked up behind her. She felt him rest his hand on the small of her back but lightly so, since he knew to be careful while she worked. "It's got a long and complicated name the pronunciation of which I'm not even sure." She paused in her sifting and half turned in Monroe's arms. Rosalee patted his scruffy cheek. "I have to say, though, it's really great having help around the shop."

      Monroe chuckled a bit. "You mean free help."

      "Well, that's a plus. I can always put you on my payroll—"

      "Nah, what's the point?" Monroe took her hand from his cheek and held it while he touched a few of the small jars of ingredients at her workstation. "It all goes to the same household anyway." He paused and simultaneously she winced. "Uh… I mean—"

      "Nope." Rosalee held up her hands to quiet him. "Stop. If we talk about it too much, we'll just weird ourselves out."

      "Right." He stood like an awkward Eisbiber for a moment. "Um, can I grab anything else for you?"

      Rosalee smiled again and pecked his lips. "Yes. In the back is a jar—a vial, really—of cucurbita extract. It's light brown and should be labeled…"

      "Got it. Pumpkin seed juice, coming right up." Monroe dashed off.

      The apothecary returned to her work to distract herself. She had to be careful with Monroe. They hadn't been living together for long and they were enjoying themselves…but when he said things like that, about the same household… It got her thinking of shared accounts and other commitments much bigger than having the same roof over their heads. Monroe was an amazing guy, a gentleman—but he was also very much the Wesen-next-door type, the boy who grew up thinking of nothing but family. He was the type of guy not only to propose but to be proposed to, and—

      Rosalee caught herself, luckily, as pain took her out of her much-too-serious thoughts. She looked down and saw that she'd caught her thumb between the side of the mortar and the pestle. "At least I'm not bleeding," the Fuchsbau muttered under her breath, self-chastising.

      She spoke too soon, though, for the next thing she heard was a crash and the sound of the ladder falling in the backroom. "Monroe?" she called.

      "I'm okay!" he hollered, but she went to him anyway. Based on the tangle of limbs he was in a heap on the floor, it was easy to see that he'd fallen from the top of the ladder and had taken half a shelf with him. Broken glass littered the floor, and there were various pools of…well, whatever had been in some of the containers had mixed.

      "Up you go," Rosalee said, tugging on his arm so he was up and away from his impromptu creations. "Your head okay?"

      "Yeah, yeah, I didn't hit it," Monroe answered. He dusted off his pants and looked at his shoes. "My shoes are fine, too… One of the upper rungs broke," the Blutbad explained. He gave her one of his it-could've-been-worse-but-it-wasn't shrugs. "Sorry about your stock, though."

      Rosalee shook her head. "No, never mind that. I'm sure most of that I can find again…somehow."

      Monroe grinned and held up a vial. "At least I got what you wanted."

      She laughed at his talent for breaking tension and putting her at ease. "My hero," she exaggerated, and she gave him a kiss…

      …or would've if he hadn't turned his head and sneezed. "Ugh, sorry."

      "No, it's fine."

      "It's just—my nose is a little itchy. I might've breathed in some dust, not just gotten it on me." He sneezed four more times.

      Rosalee gave him a look. "Or maybe you got hay fever early. Go home, Monroe. Take a shower and work on your clocks."

      "But—"

      She gave him a stern look. "I can make it through one work day on my own."

      Monroe's shoulders sagged. "All right… See you at home."

      "Yep, see you at home."

      All in all, Rosalee's day went rather smoothly, aside from the morning's mishap. She completed the order she'd been working on first. Only after did she venture to the backroom to clean up Monroe's mess. It wasn't too bad, but she wore a surgical mask and three pairs of gloves while she cleaned.

      "And this…not good," she said, eyeing the broken ladder. It was one thing to hold on to her family's wares—some of the Wesen stuff never expired—but the tools? "The next ladder will be metal and come from the hardware store," Rosalee thought aloud. She made a mental note also to check other tools and supplies sitting around the shop that ought to be replaced with their modern counterparts.

      By the time she closed the shop for the day, she noted that the night was still young. It made the Fuchsbau want to get home quicker, because this was the kind of night that stood a chance of turning romantic. If Monroe held true to his character, then he would've showered, rested, and gotten up once he felt better, and probably cooked dinner on top of everything else.

      Sure, Rosalee was spoiled by him, but she was getting used to it.

      However, something felt off when she got home and found most of the lights turned off. And Monroe wasn't in the kitchen…or absorbed in tinkering with any clock or watch.

      "Monroe?" she called out.

      The house—or anyone inside—didn't respond.

      Truly, it was strange to hear the house be so quiet, so…empty. Well, aside from Monroe's clocks ticking. And, speaking of Monroe…

      Rosalee headed upstairs. "Monroe?" she called out again when she paused on the second-floor landing.

      "Don't come in…," he groaned from their bedroom. The door was shut and—surprisingly—locked.

      Rosalee frowned. "Monroe, what is going on? Are you okay?"

      There was the sound of rustling blankets from inside. "I'm just feeling a little under the weather," he replied. His voice sounded funny—maybe a little squeaky? "Sorry, but you'll have to eat alone tonight. I'm not really up for anything."

      "Monroe, if you're experiencing the side-effect of anything that crashed back in the shop—"

      "It's fine. I'm fine! Don't worry!" He sneezed. "I'll sleep it off."

      She sighed. "…all right. I'll take the couch, just to be safe."

      There was a long pause. "Thanks, Rosalee."

      She smiled. He knew her well enough by now to know when to stop apologizing. "Goodnight, Monroe."

      "Goodnight, Rosalee." He coughed, and then the house was quiet once more.

      Though she had half a mind to kick the door in and cure him, she didn't. She took a breath to calm herself and went back downstairs. She nibbled on some leftovers from two nights ago, and it wasn't long before she resigned herself to the couch….

      There was a giggle.

      Rosalee smiled, thinking it was her giggle, in her dream. And yet the more aware, the more awake she grew, she realized she wasn't making that sound. At all.

      Her eyes shot open, and she tensed. There was someone standing in front of her…a very short someone.

      Rosalee's eyes widened. How had a kid gotten inside the house?!

      Whoever he was, he giggled again and flashed her a toothy grin. He was plenty cheerful and seemed harmless, though it was a mystery as to why he was dressed in a wrinkled button-up shirt much too big for him.

      "…hi," the Fuchsbau mumbled cautiously.

      "HI!" the kid echoed. Yep, he had a set of lungs on him.

      Rosalee sat up, pushing her blanket aside and smoothing her clothes. She had to be in charge here and look it. "What's your name? Mine's 'Rosalee.'"

      The boy cocked his head to one side. "Silly?"

      "No, 'Rosalee.'"

      "Silly!"

      She sighed. She should let it slide if she wanted this taken care of sooner rather than later. "Okay…but what's your name?"

      "Monroe!"

      Rosalee smiled. "That's cute." Wow! A kid with Monroe's name—how rare. She had to tell him that once he got up. In the meantime, Rosalee stood and took Little Monroe's hand. They went over to the front door, which was…not open. Odd. "Hey, Monroe, where did you come from? It's dangerous to wander into a stranger's house. I'm sure your parents must be looking for you."

      He stared at her for so long, she wasn't sure if he'd understood her. Well, she supposed it made sense. He was a toddler—maybe three or four years old or so? But, honestly, how'd he get in? The front door wasn't just closed but locked as well. No way could he have gotten in by himself without help.

      At that thought, Rosalee armed herself with a nearby glass desk clock that was heavy and could probably do some damage to an intruder.

      But, as soon as she grabbed the clock, Little Monroe teared up. There was a sob lodged in his throat, too. "Not Clocky…!"

      Rosalee glanced between the teary-eyed boy and the clock before she put it back down and quieted him. "Okay! Okay, I won't move Clocky again. But you have to tell me where you came from."

      Little Monroe simply pointed up.

      The Fuchsbau cursed under her breath and picked up Little Monroe. She balanced him on her hip and tried to move quickly, but her speed changed nothing. When she hit the bedroom, it was silent and empty regardless. Her heart sank, but she tried not to panic. Her eyes darted to the windows, but, like the door, they were closed. "Monroe…how'd you get in here?"

      Little Monroe pointed to the bed. Rosalee checked the covers (judging by the vacant spot, her Monroe had been there), but it was useless. How the hell was it possible to hide a decent-sized Blutbad?!

      She checked the covers again and found a wet spot. Yet it wasn't blood. It was… "Oh, my God, did you wet the bed?"

      Little Monroe squirmed and escaped her arms to land on the bed. He frowned. "Sorry," he mumbled.

      For the first time in the past five minutes, Rosalee actually got a good look at him. He had curly dark hair just like her Monroe, and his eyes were like warm black coffee…just like her Monroe. With a sinking feeling, Rosalee internally cursed. "Monroe…as in, this is your home, Monroe?"

      He grinned. "Yes, Silly!"

      It felt like ages before Juliette answered the phone. When she did, she reacted to Rosalee's tension. "Rosalee, what's wrong?"

      Ha! Where to start?! The Fuchsbau didn't know. Her mouth went dry. Of all the crazy things she'd told her and Nick, "Monroe's a kid" might finally top the list. "Come to the spice shop," she managed. "It's Monroe. I need your help."

      "I'm on my way."

      Rosalee hung up, feeling a bit relieved. Count on Juliette to be like Nick and drop everything to help a friend. Huh. That was a funny thought: Juliette was the Nick to her Monroe. Perhaps when Rosalee stopped freaking out and set things right, she could share it with Juliette and they'd have a laugh.

      In the backseat, Monroe watched the scenery pass by with his mouth hanging open. So apparently young Blutbaden were like puppies (though she knew Monroe in his right mind wouldn't appreciate that comparison).

      When they arrived at the spice shop, Rosalee helped Monroe get out, and she bit her lip. If she couldn't fix this…would she need to buy a car seat? Hell, if she had to raise him, would she turn into a cougar twenty years down the line?!

      Monroe tugged on her hand and looked up at her expectantly. His eyes bored into her.

      Yeah, those thoughts and worries could come a lot later.

      Inside the shop, Rosalee set Monroe up with the cot in the back and gave him some paper and a ballpoint pen. Not the best idea, but the best she could do on short notice. Plus, once she told him to draw her a picture of "Clocky," he became engrossed in his task.

      The Fuchsbau went into the backroom, looking for signs of change. But all the materials and the floor were completely normal. Rosalee bit her bottom lip again, gnawing on it. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't cleaned up yesterday's mess.

      As Rosalee racked her brain in the back, the shop's bell rang, and then the door was closed and locked. A moment later, Juliette found her and pulled her into a big hug. "Ugh, I got here as fast as I could," the vet murmured. She held Rosalee at arm's length. "I caught a peek of a kid—what's going on? And where's Monroe? Is the kid his relative? They look…" Juliette trailed off with widening eyes. "No."

      Rosalee nodded, relieved her brainy friend could jump to the correct conclusion without needing Rosalee to explain in painful detail. "Oh, yeah."

      Juliette squinted. "Really?"

      The Fuchsbau gave her friend a summary of what had transpired. By the end of the story, Juliette's brow was thoroughly furrowed. "What is it?"

      "Nothing, just… No offense, but I'm glad I don't spend more time here. The things that can happen…" Juliette shivered involuntarily. "I am so done with magic potions."

      "Yeah, well, accidents happen," Rosalee remarked as she set a fresh mortar and pestle on her work table. But she had to pause—she had no idea how to fix this. What was the point then of bothering to try?

      Juliette read her expression. "Hey. Don't frown like that. I'm sure we'll figure…something out. Do you have any idea what was in the mess Monroe made?"

      "I know what was lost, because luckily both shelf and bottle are labeled for everything. But only the bottles said how much of the item was packaged. Plus, I don't know what interacted first. This kind of thing is exactly like cooking, Juliette—you can end up with two completely different results if you switch steps in the recipe."

      The two women walked idly around the shop, scanning the shelves and products for anything useful. "So what would you say happened to him?" Juliette asked, mostly to break the silence.

      "He's been de-aged."

      "What, like…he used a whole jar of anti-aging cream?"

      Rosalee snorted. "Exactly like that, but on a larger scale. A lot of those formulas are old Wesen recipes, you know. Why do you think they're so effective? A little goes a long way!"

      The shop fell silent again, until Monroe emerged from the back, squirming and raising his hand, patiently waiting for either of them to take notice.

      The Fuchsbau glanced at him. "What is it, sweetie?"

      "Snack time?" Monroe looked at them hopefully.

      "Ah, right…"

      "I can pop out for you," Juliette offered. "He's not really dressed to go anywhere in just that big shirt, but we need to keep at least one pair of eyes on him."

      "Well, I don't have any clothes for him…" The women locked eyes.

      "Bud!" came out in unison.

      "I'll grab some snacks and ask Bud or his wife for advice," the vet concluded. "I shouldn't be long." She went over to Monroe and ruffled his hair. "I'll be back, hon. Be good for Rosalee, okay?"

      "For Silly!" he chirped.

      Juliette gave Rosalee a questioning look, but Rosalee dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "Go. We'll be fine."

      The vet nodded and headed out. After, Rosalee made sure the shop's sign was still set to "CLOSED."

      Back with Monroe, Rosalee locked eyes with him. He stared back at her for a while. Finally, he returned to the back of the store and patted beside him on the cot, begging her to join him. Rosalee sat down and looked at his drawings. "What've you got there?"

      Monroe's cheeks pinked, and he held a picture in front of his face. It was definitely "Clocky," but Rosalee was surprised. The picture was fairly detailed; she easily could tell it was the glass desk clock from home.

      "That's amazing, Monroe. I didn't know you were such a good artist."

      He beamed at her and leaned against her arm, showing her the rest—most of which were clocks, but one was an obvious attempt of her. He gave it to her. "I'm good, Silly," he mumbled.

      Rosalee's heart tightened. She put an arm around him and pecked the top of his head. "Yes, you are, Monroe. You are very good…."

      "Awww…"

      Rosalee's eyes shot open. She was in the shop. …she was in the shop? But… And then it came back to her. The evidence was curled up in the crook of her arm on the cot in the back. Juliette stood over them.

      "Sorry," the vet whispered. She gently placed a plastic bag on a nearby table and shed her jacket. "I just got back. You two were napping and looked so cute…"

      "What time is it?" Rosalee asked. She gently woke Monroe, who became alert at the smell of something warm.

      "Oh, not that late. It's still before noon, but I didn't mean to be gone for an hour. Did you know? Talking to Bud's wife is like talking to him—once you get her going, it's hard to stop her." Juliette pulled out a triangle wrapped in foil and passed it to Rosalee. "Open that for him—it's a slice of apple pie, fresh." At that, Rosalee's stomach grumbled. "I've got one for you, too."

      "What did you say to Bud's wife?"

      "Just that a friend was looking after a kid and needed some meat-free food and a change of clothes for him. I described him to her, and she gave me a bunch of hand-me-downs for all ages." Juliette gave Rosalee a sympathetic look. "So, if he grows…"

      Rosalee, wide-eyed, shook her head. "Uh-uh. We're not going to think about that. I'm going to fix this."

      "All right…"

      After eating, the two women got back to scouring the shop for clues. They switched off scanning books and stock every once in a while so no one's eyes became too tired to search for the German words for "kid" and "children." A few times Juliette thought she found something in a book, but then Rosalee would read the passage and dismiss it. From looking ten years younger to growing ten inches taller to retaining one's childhood laugh—a variety of topics were covered, but reverting, de-aging wasn't.

      At least Monroe wasn't a handful. He went back to drawing after they fed him, and he napped on and off.

      "What about work?" Rosalee asked Juliette eventually. Monroe had nodded off again, and Juliette covered him with her jacket.

      "I called in sick. It's not a problem. What about opening the shop?"

      "No orders are due this week, so it won't hurt. Besides, I think this is definitely a more pressing matter."

      "You've got that right."

      They returned to their tasks in silence until suppertime arrived. Then Rosalee packed Monroe up and Juliette locked the shop and drove them all back to Monroe's house in Rosalee's car.

      "I only have more snack stuff," the Kehrseite said as Rosalee and Monroe headed into the kitchen.

      Rosalee pursed her lips. "I should be fine now since we're back home. I've got leftovers of some of Monroe's favorite things." Case in point, all she had to do was open the fridge, and Monroe pointed to all the things he wanted to eat.

      Juliette groaned as they fed Monroe again.

      "What is it?"

      "Nick texted me. He had an early day and is wondering where I am." Her dark eyes met Rosalee's.

      The Fuchsbau shrugged. "Just call him and get him over here."

      So Juliette dialed.

      At the door, Nick wasn't alone. Hank was with him.

      "You sounded off when we spoke," Nick said as they stepped in.

      "Something up with Monroe?" Hank asked. "He's Mr. Manners, always the first to get the door," he added with a chuckle.

      Rosalee thought to give them a summary, but she shut her mouth and just beckoned to them to follow her into the kitchen. She gestured at Monroe with her hands, like "Ta-da!"

      The cops blinked. "Uh…" came oh-so intelligently from Nick's mouth.

      Hank narrowed his eyes. "Nick, is it just me or…does he look like…?"

      "Yes, it's Monroe, and it was a potion accident at the shop which we haven't been able to solve," Juliette hastily summarized.

      Hank walked over and knelt in front of their transformed friend. He reached out hesitantly and rested a hand on the kid's head. When he deemed it safe, he rustled Monroe's hair. "…wow." He looked at the rest of them. "He's so…tiny."

      "Yeah, yeah, so you're the tallest one in the room once more," Nick groused. He looked at Juliette and Rosalee. "Why didn't you call sooner?"

      "I honestly thought I'd come across something in the shop to help," Rosalee explained.

      "Do you think Aunt Marie's books might have something on…whatever this is?" the Grimm inquired, gesturing to the odd scene before him.

      "Doubtful."

      "But it's worth a shot," Juliette stated.

      Nick nodded. "Good thing we got off early. Come on, Hank, I could use some help with the reading."

      The other detective appeared reluctant to leave. "But he's so small. And quiet. He doesn't chatter like our Monroe usually does…"

      As they made their way out, Juliette grabbed her things. "I think I'll go with them—if you're good here?"

      The Fuchsbau nodded. "No, yeah, go. It's fine. I'll call you if anything else happens."

      "All right. Goodnight, Rosalee."

      "'Night, Juliette."

      The vet gave her an encouraging smile and caught up with Nick at the door. Before the door closed, Rosalee overheard Nick comment to Juliette about them being good mothers on such short notice, considering how healthy and happy Monroe looked. Rosalee smiled at that.

      And she turned that smile on Monroe, who'd finished his dinner and sat good-manneredly with his hands folded in front of his empty plate.

      Rosalee couldn't deny Hank's impulse. Looking at him, she had to ruffle his hair, too.

      "Bedtime, buddy," she said. She changed him into one of the larger shirts Bud's wife had sent, deeming it a nightshirt. Only once he had promised her that he wouldn't wet the bed (well, one could hope), she let him crawl in beside her, and, like at the shop, he curled up in the crook of her arm. "Goodnight, Monroe," she murmured as she turned off the light.

      "…nigh-nigh, Silly. Love you…," he mumbled sleepily.

      Rosalee hesitated and kissed the top of his head. Maybe…maybe she could deal with this worst-case scenario.

      Hell, no. She couldn't handle this.

      Monroe had woken up before her. But he was no longer an adorable, well-behaved four-year-old.

      Unfortunately, he wasn't back to normal, either.

      No, he was still a kid, and an annoying brat at that. He ran around the bed, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And, once Rosalee managed to sit up in bed with a vein desperate to pop by her temple, he switched to running up and down the stairs, trying to get her up.

      "I'm awake, you little—"

      Monroe stuck his head in the room and smirked. "Yes?"

      The Fuchsbau inhaled deeply and reined in her temper. "Good morning, Monroe."

      "Yeah, yeah, Rosie."

      She narrowed her eyes at him. "My name's not 'Rosie,' and I hate that nickname. You—" She blinked, realizing what he'd said. "Wait. Monroe, you remember me? You know who I am?"

      He scoffed and shook his head. "No."

      "You're lying."

      The Blutbad blushed. "No, I'm not!"

      "Are, too!"

      "Ugh, you crazy girl! Keep your cooties to yourself!"

      Rosalee raised one eyebrow. "Cooties? Right… How old are you?"

      "Nine! Not old like you!"

      Okay, that one required a lot of willpower to leave alone. "Get dressed. Breakfast will be on the table in five minutes, and then we're off to the spice shop."

      He stuck his tongue out at her. "Nuh-uh! No way!" And with that, he resumed his laps up and down the staircase.

      Trying to get the runner into the car was a hassle. Monroe had gotten dressed only because he'd dug out a shirt he liked from the pile Bud's wife had put together (a plaid shirt, which gave Rosalee some hope that, somewhere deep down, the man she loved was still there…with any luck).

      But in the car? He kept playing with the locks and handles. Rosalee tried putting on the child locks, but he fought her. Every time she locked one door, he unlocked another.

      Going out anywhere today was not an option.

      Back at home, Monroe was a menace.

      At first, Rosalee thought he might break something. But Monroe quickly upped his game—it was easier lighting her fuse if he only made her believe he might break things around the house than actually do so.

      Rosalee simply gave up and sat in the living room, gripping a mug of coffee, which she slowly sipped.

      By ignoring him that way, Rosalee managed to get him to stop pestering her. In fact, he tired shortly after with a big, prolonged sigh. He plopped himself down in the armchair across from her and locked eyes with her.

      "Don't you want to draw or do something else productive?" the apothecary suggested.

      The boy grunted in response. "I don't draw."

      Huh. "You don't like clocks?"

      "I like clocks. But I'm not supposed to. Like drawing. Dad wants me to do something better with my life."

      "Making and repairing clocks is a respectable living."

      "… …can I play outside?"

      "No."

      Monroe grunted again. "This is why girls are no fun."

      "Why, 'cause I'm a stick-in-the-mud?" Rosalee retorted, texting Nick to ask if he'd found anything useful.

      "No, that's 'cause you're a Fuchsbau." He stuck his nose up at her.

      She clenched her phone in hand. Then she counted to three, took a deep breath, counted to four, and slapped on a smile. "Let me clarify something for you, kid. Girls don't have cooties, and there's nothing wrong with Fuchsbau, just as there's nothing wrong with being friends with or loving a different kind of Wesen from yourself."

      His eyes grew big, and he gaped at her. "What? Friends with…? Love?! That's gross!"

      Somehow, his saying that didn't deter her. No, it only bolstered her confidence. "Just trust me, Monroe. You never know until you try it." Rosalee stood and disappeared to refill her coffee cup. Perhaps nine-year-old Monroe would be the easiest to handle….

      He was.

      After getting a call from Nick that they'd come up with nothing, Rosalee caught them up on the latest…"growth spurt." Nick offered to give her a break before the night was over, and, by the time Nick and Juliette returned after a meal of fries and vegan burgers, Monroe was utterly tuckered, and therefore a piece of cake to put to bed.

      Rosalee rewarded herself with a hot chocolate before she conked out on the couch. Yeah, nine-year-old Monroe was the easiest.

      Late the next morning, Rosalee was the first up. For the first time in days, she felt well-rested, and it was such a relief to wake up in a rather quiet house.

      "Rather" quiet, of course, because she could hear soft snores coming from upstairs. At least Monroe was still here, whatever age he was.

      The Fuchsbau hummed to herself as she made eggs and toast and brewed a light roast. As she poured her coffee, she wondered what today's surprise would be…and then she turned around.

      No matter how adult she was, Rosalee still did not want to see a penis in her kitchen first thing in the morning.

      She shrieked and looked the other way. "Oh, my God, Monroe! Put some clothes on!"

      He chuckled. "Why? This is my house, isn't it? And hello, beautiful," the Blutbad added, walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and craned his neck so he could kiss her deeply. When he pulled away, she got a good look at him.

      This Monroe looked very much like her Monroe, minus his charming scruff as well as some lines on his face. She sighed. "So what age are you today?"

      Monroe grinned wolfishly. "More than legal, Rosalee."

      "Monroe…"

      "Nineteen." He tapped the side of his head with his finger. "I'm not going to lie. I feel as though someone fried my brain, and I know about half of what I probably should. But I can recall bits and pieces. Such as you," he continued, snaking his arms around her waist and fingering the waistline of her sleep pants until she pinched him, "I see in flashes."

      "Anything else?" she asked. She tried to turn so he wouldn't…poke into her back. She didn't have much luck.

      He stroked his clean-shaven chin. "It feels as though I was a brat just yesterday…"

      In a way, this was good news. From four to nine to nineteen—she might have the original Monroe back by tomorrow. And since nothing at the shop or trailer had turned up, playing the waiting game did indeed seem to be the best option.

      However…

      "Do you really have to walk around naked?" the Fuchsbau complained as she attempted to complete household chores with Monroe following her around.

      "No, but I like the breeze."

      Her shoulders sagged.

      "Plus," he added with a smirk, "I don't just walk around naked." When she gave him a curious look, he pointed upstairs.

      Great. Laundry was just added to the list of things to do.

      Worst of all, no matter what she fed him, his hunger persisted. He was more complacent when hungry, so at least he slipped on a pair of jeans by the time one o'clock rolled around.

      Rosalee kept feeding him snacks just so she could get through something simple like putting away the dishes. "Are you feeling okay?" she queried anxiously.

      The Blutbad sat at the kitchen table with his legs pulled up to his chest, his bare feet on the seat. He groaned. "I'm fine. Just huuunngryyy…!"

      As the hours dragged on and day became night, Rosalee began to panic. In the course of one day and one transformation, she had managed to feed him the entire contents of the fridge. Now he was halfway through the pantry.

      "We should go out and hunt," he remarked as the sun set.

      Panic seized her. "No!" she snapped.

      He flinched and stared at her. "Okay… No hunting tonight."

      "No, not ever," she corrected, sitting him down on the couch in the living room. "You don't hunt."

      "I don't hunt?!"

      "No." She held his face in her hands. "Monroe, you chose a better path. You're more than just a wolf. You're a clock-maker, best friends with a…cop," she continued, unsure what would happen if she used the dreaded G-word, "and the most wonderful man I have ever known."

      The house creaked in the ensuing silence. Monroe looked at her tenderly. "So…," he mumbled, "giving up meat gets me you?"

      She grinned, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. "Yes. I guess you could say that."

      He stroked her forearms faintly with the pads of his fingers and locked eyes with her. He rested his hands on top of hers, on either side of his face. "Then I guess it's no contest." Temptation, thy name is Monroe.

      Rosalee pecked his forehead in response and after tried making something for supper out of what little was left in the kitchen. Monroe still followed her around, but he wasn't in the way as he had been during the day. Actually, he did something so familiar: he rested his hand lightly at the small of her back.

      They stayed up late, not really talking but just staying in each other's company. At one point, Rosalee answered a text from Juliette, assuring the others she was okay, but not sure if she'd give them the details from today.

      Some part of her, truthfully, wanted to keep today for herself.

      Her eyes did become heavy, however, which made Monroe chuckle. "Well, that's that day over."

      "No, I'm still awake…"

      Monroe shook his head and bundled her up in her roomy sweater. He took her hand. "Come on, up. You need your sleep." He sighed.

      "What?" she prompted drowsily.

      "I don't know… While my mind isn't intact, I've gotta say… I feel a little sad knowing it won't be me you'll greet tomorrow."

      "Of course it'll be you, Monroe…"

      "Not this version of me." He gave her a sad smile, and then something caught his eye. "Oh. Hold on."

      Rosalee watched him reach for a glass desk clock—the same one four-year-old Monroe had loved so much—and straighten it where it sat. Clearly, the old Monroe was coming back.

      Monroe returned to her and picked her up in his arms, carrying her upstairs. "All righty. Time for good Fuchsbau to go to bed." He tucked her in and kissed her cheek. "… Goodnight, Rosalee."

      He was right. She was more tired than she'd felt. She nodded off with his hand clasped in hers. "…nigh-nigh, Monroe. Love you…"

      Then nineteen-year-old Monroe became just another part of her dreams.

      He hung his head. "Oh, God…!"

      Rosalee crouched in front of her boyfriend, trying to get him to drink some coffee. "Really, it's not that bad."

      "I was a kid for three days, and I remember most of it, Rosalee!"

      Obviously, the morning had arrived, and Monroe was back to being himself…sort of. Rosalee had awoken to the crumpled form of her lover sitting in front of their bedroom door, making a storm cloud look cheerier. "Monroe, it was an accident. Accidents happen. How do you think I felt, unable to fix it?"

      "Yeah, but…" He furrowed his brow. "I was a good kid when I was little. I was annoying when I got older—just ask my parents. But my late teens and early adulthood…" He shuddered. "Rosalee, I was an obnoxious Wesen. I hunted without a care in the world. I had friends who made me think we were indestructible. That's as bad as it gets for Blutbaden."

      "Okay, so if things had gotten hairy, I would've called Nick."

      He cocked his head to one side and gave her a look. "Yes, thank you very much," he grumbled.

      "If you're going to mope, then at least lighten up knowing that I still love you and want to live with you despite having raised you." She beamed at him.

      "Not helping…"

      Rosalee sat cross-legged in front of him. "What do you want me to say? That kids are far off in our future because of this? Actually, if anything, I look forward to meeting your parents someday." She paused, remembering how unhappy nine-year-old Monroe had looked and sounded spouting things his dad had told him. "…I have a new appreciation for your mother's patience," she finished, deciding not to venture into his father's Blutbaden-only territory.

      Monroe pulled a face at the mention of his parents, but at least the tension left his shoulders. He gazed at her and half smiled. "You know, sometimes I think I have bad luck, but I don't really believe that." He pulled her into one of his signature bear hugs.

      "So does that mean we can go back to work today?"

      "Uh… If it's all right with you, I'd like a little time away from the spice shop," Monroe replied with a shudder. "Besides, it's been a while since I last designed a clock, and I'd like to try my hand at drawing again…"

      Rosalee sighed happily. "Sure thing. But, if it's all right with you, stay the same Monroe tomorrow, too, okay?"

      He did.

WELL! My first Grimm fic! :D I quite liked it, though how the 19yo!Monroe bit ended was kind of sad… :') This fic took forever, but it was worth it—hope you enjoyed it, Danie! Also, I liked the inclusion of Hank for a moment—wouldn't it be funny if he liked cute things? (Plus the height comment—*LOL*) Other than all that, the only challenging thing about this fic, surprisingly, was typing Monroe's name. I'm not used to it, so I kept typing "Moron" instead… I'm so sorry, my poor wolf! Dx And let's just skip over the teeny plothole regarding 9yo!Monroe eating with Nick and Juliette and not freaking out about Nick's being a Grimm…heh. *oops* ;P

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

2023 note: Wow. So, if you're someone who's read some of my other fics, you would know I've edited most of my older works (I have a v small list now of what's left! XD), and this 9yo story now had its turn! *lol 9yo like one of the Monroes in the fic* Anywho! I…miss Grimm, even tho it did take some unexpected turns I didn't quite like towards the end, but I feel like having a rewatch (it's also been a while since I read any of the comics or bks). The mythology of the Wesen and the Grimms still enchants me to this day, much as the charries and romance of Rosalee and Monroe do, which is why I was happy that there was little to fix here. Mostly I caught a few typos and just added a few finishing touches or some spots of clarification. This is the only time I've ever written a de-aging fic and I'm not sure I'd do another, even in another of my fandoms, mainly bc I think the spice shop hits all the right marks for me for this trope. Now as to the glaring plothole of how can they be sure Monroe is done aging now that he's back to his original age…? Eh, I just wanted to leave the ending where it was, since the mood/vibe/flow was good right there, *LOL*, so let's just go with it. X'D I prolly might write for Grimm again (might even have a few old ideas jotted down somewhere), but it wouldn't be soon, since I'd deffo want a rewatch first. But…ahhh! I still love everyone so much! TTwTT Who's with me?!! :'D More importantly, at which age Monroe is your fav??? (I'm biased; I choose all, *LOL*.)

[rebelliousstories]

Seaside Wedding

Relationship: Sean Renard x Reader

Fandom: Grimm

Request: Yes by @dd122004dd

Warnings: Brief Violence, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending

Word Count: 2,665

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Sequel to: Tidal Wave

Summary: A joyous day full of love and celebration. However, not everything can sail smoothly for the group at the wedding of the century. At least for wesen.

Then the wedding was held with great pomp, but as the train came from the church, and passed with the torches before the hall, a very small ray of light fell upon the prince.

There was an air about today. An air of love and happiness that no one could dampen. Her hair had been carefully crafted to sit long on her shoulders, yet it was pulled away to highlight her face and the expertly done makeup. A long flowing gown decorated her body, pure white, and covered in lace. It was the wedding she had dreamed about for so long.

Six Months Ago…

“I’ve spent too long without you to waste anymore time.” Sean whispered as he held his lover’s hand on her hospital bed. She tried to complain and tell him that she did not need to be checked out by a doctor, but he insisted. Procuring a ring from his pants pocket, the only sign of his nerves getting the better of him was the trembling of his fingers as he held the box.

“I kept this, all these years, hoping that you would be able to wear it someday. But I can’t do this anymore. Will you marry me?” He opened the box to reveal a gorgeous ring. A beautiful Alexandrite ring, with swirls and smaller diamonds intertwined was presented to her. Letting out a small gasp, she barely registered Sean calling her name.

“Yes,” came her whisper. “Yes!” She screamed. Tackling her lover, he barely managed to keep them upright as she kept saying ‘yes’ underneath her breath. They stayed locked in that embrace for who knows how long, before finally deciding to separate to finally place the ring where it belonged. A kiss was shared between the couple as they realized what that meant, and where they were going.

Pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a door opening, the siren turned to face her bridesmaid that had helped so much for everything for the wedding. Rosalee. Dressed in a muted sea blue gown, the Fuchsbau came in with a gentle smile on her face.

“Hey there, Ms. Bride. Are you ready?” She asked,rubbing a calming hand over the woman’s shoulder.

“More than,” she replied, ”I’m so ready to just be married and be done with this. Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that we get to have our fairytale wedding, but it’s so exhausting. I would’ve been just fine with a small backyard wedding. But leave it to Sean to pull out all the stops.” She tried to sound like she was complaining, but the smile on her face was a dead giveaway to her friend.

“Well, if you feel like running away dramatically from the alter, just let me know. I’ll pretend that we’re the ones getting married instead, as I proclaim my undying love for you.” Rosalee teased, earring a much needed laugh from the woman. The air already felt lighter and less nervous. Another knock pulled the woman from their giggle, and the perfectly styled hair of Portland’s Grimm peaked through.

“I thought you guys were having fun without me.” He said, walking into the room fully. Over the past six months, the Grimm and siren had gotten much closer as she became less afraid of the man.

“Oh no, we were just talking trash about you.” Rosalee jested, giving Nick a big hug as she turned to face the bride one last time.

“I’ll see you there.” The Fuchsbau reassured the Tödlicheslied, who was wringing her hands together. With one last smile, she left to join her own partner at the beginning of the aisle.

“You okay? Not having any second thoughts are you?” Nick teased, but lost his smile as the woman was still stuck fixated on something in her head.

“Hey,” he grasped her shoulders gently, “you’re going to be alright. You and Sean both deserve this.” Nick tried to reassure her, and finally got to see her eyes from where they were downcast.

“What if he doesn’t want to marry me? Or he realizes that he made a mistake down the road? I wouldn’t be able to live through that.” Her words struck Nick’s heart deep.

“Listen to me, that is not going to happen.” Nick started,and forced her to stare at him.

“Sean would move heaven and earth if it meant making you happy. He’d burn the world down so that you would be warm. I know him. He wouldn’t have any second thoughts about doing anything and everything to make sure that you were safe and sound. He’s not going to wake up one day and realize he doesn’t want to be married to you. Now, I just had to calm him down, I’d like to not have to calm both the groom and bride in the same evening.” The last admission caught her attention.

“Sean’s nervous? What does he have to be nervous about? He knows I love him.” It confused her.

“Because, even when you know that you love the other person with all your heart, and want to marry someone, there is always a little nagging voice worried about if they say no.” Nick trailed off his little speech, and looked like he was lost to a memory.

“Speaking from experience?” The Tödlicheslied asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but, we’re not here for me. Now, are you ready? Cause Rosalee might be getting a wife today.” She laughed wholeheartedly, as Nick smiled and chuckled along.

“Oh you heard that, did you?” She asked, coming down off of her giggles.

“Oh yeah. I did. It’s fine. You will make a beautiful couple.” Another fit of giggles, before Nick turned and offered her his arm. They walked out, arm in arm, and saw Monroe right at the entrance to the aisle. He smiled at the wesen and Grimm, and sent a wink their way before he walked to his seat. Rosalee turned right as the music started, and looped her arm into her other one as they walked down the aisle. A memory struck the Tödlicheslied right at that moment, before she could see her fiancé waiting at the end.

Three Months Earlier…

“What kind of cake do you want?” She asked, turning towards her lover who sat at the kitchen counter.

“As long as we have German chocolate cake, I will be alright with anything you choose.” Sean contributed, shaking off her stare.

“You and your fancy cake. Fine. I’ll be good with chocolate. I would like to have some salted caramel cupcakes. Want to do the cake chocolate and cupcakes caramel?” Bringing over the books full of cake flavors, she set it down so that he could participate.

“That’s fine with me, ma sirène.” Sean turned and rested his hands on her waist to draw her in close. He pulled her in for a kiss, and was about to deepen it when she pulled away.

“I’ve still got to get to my dress fitting with the group.” But her fiancé was not hearing it.

“I’m sure you can reschedule.” He tried to convince her.

“Not if I want to get a dress from the designer you sent me to.” She teased, and began to pull away to go get ready for her day with friends.

“Get a mermaid cut.” Sean called, and was rewarded with a slipper being thrown in his direction without malice.

In the end, she did go with a mermaid style dress for her reception. But not for the ceremony. For the ceremony, the floor length lacy gown made her feel like a princess. A tiara secured the veil down the back of her head, as she finally got into view of her lover. He stood with such confidence, and such strength, it almost made her question whether Nick had been telling the truth. But as she got closer, she saw the little tell tale signs. His shifting hands and feet, the faintest hint of sweat at his brow. He was nervous.

It made her feel a little bit better to know that he was just as nervous as her. But as she walked down the aisle with her friends, her nerves slowed down. All she could think about was the fact that she was here, about to marry the love of her life, surrounded by their friends. Each shaking step made her come closer and closer to her fiancé, lit fire underneath her feet. She felt like she was walking on pins and needles just to get closer to him. When their hands finally joined, and Sean led her closer, she felt… weightless. Like nothing could hold her to the earth except her lover.

“You look gorgeous.” He whispered, letting his eyes rake over her figure once more.

“I could say the same. You look very handsome.” She replied, feeling her hands begin to shake in his grasp. The world faded away as she stood up there with her soon to be husband. Finally allowing herself to take him in, she noticed the navy blue suit stretching across his frame, and a sea blue tie pulling her eyes back towards his chest. She could just make out the golden chain and locket that was hidden underneath the white button down, and knew that it matched the silver chain against her chest. Sean squeezed her hands enough to get her attention again, and that is when she noticed that the officiant beside them was speaking.

“If anyone has any reason why these two may not be joined together in holy matrimony, please speak now or forever hold your peace.” A beat of silence. Her breath held itself in her chest. Renard’s eyes scanned the room.

“I object!” Gasps were heard across the room as people tried to locate where it came from. An older man and woman, along with a younger set of boys who were definitely adults. As she saw who it was, her breathing stopped.

“Dad?” She could place that booming voice, even after all these years. No longer the young girl she was twenty odd years ago, her parents were not at young either, nor her brothers. Her grip tightened on her fiancé’s hands with each step her family took closer.

“We thought we lost you.” Her mother breathed, with tears in her eyes and a shaky hand on her heart, and her eyes on her daughter.

“We thought you would have learned your lesson.” Her father leveled a glare at Sean, who had stepped halfway in front of his bride to shield her from the threat.

“What can I say, I’m stubborn.” Renard shot back at the man, who just kept getting closer and closer to her. She had yet to say anything in several minutes, and was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“Sweetie, it’s time to come home.” He tried, extending a hand out to his daughter. But she remained frozen and silent, stuck at the side of her lover.

“Please, come home sweetheart. We missed you so much. We thought you were dead.” Her mother gave it a shot, but received the same reaction from her daughter. Her brothers were calling her name, but it was too much for her to focus on.

“You’re very good at acting. But I am staying here. I’m not going back.” Gone was the sympathetic, loving, and heartbroken parents and brothers. In their place, there was a chill that ran through the room; as if the whole room had been thrown into the deepest part of the ocean with no life raft.

“You’re coming home. Enough with this charade,” her eldest brother began, “you don’t belong here and you never will. Now let’s go.” He surged forward and nearly made it to the couple to grab her, had it not been for Sean stepping in and preventing him from touching his bride.

“You’re going to leave. Now.” Renard growled dangerously at the Tödlicheslied. He backed away with a smirk and his hands raised. Making his way back to his parents, there was another beat of silence, just before all hell broke loose.

“Gun!” Someone screamed. In an instant, her brother had pulled out a gun and aimed at the couple. However, every member of law enforcement had drawn their own weapons and now had them trained on the young man. He was sent flying to the ground while his gun was checked by a man on his back.

“You picked the wrong wedding to pull this at.” Hank handcuffed the man while Wu made sure the gun was cleared and safe. Together, the detective and sergeant escorted the family out of the ceremony, as they raised a fuss over their son being handcuffed. While Griffin and Wu waited for the car to roll up to take the man to the precinct, everyone holstered their weapons inside the building. Sean felt a little out of place as he elected to not have his weapon on him for his wedding, but was eternally grateful that Nick had his as he stood at his captain’s back.

“Well, that went well.” Burkhardt commented, as he turned back to the couple. The bride was still frozen in place, trying hard to process what had happened in such a short amount of time.

“Darling, are you alright? You’re not hurt, right?” Sean inquired as he scanned over his fiancé. Her eyes were still trained on the spot where her family was just at, but pulled them away when she felt her lover’s hand cup her cheek.

“You’re still here.” She said it with such an air of disbelief. It was then that Sean realized, she was living through the last time that this had happened. Where Sean was beaten to a bloody pulp, and she was taken away.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He reassured her, and brought her in for a tight hug. They both breathed a sigh of relief as they found themselves tangled with the other. A cleared throat brought them back to their wedding; the officiant standing and waiting patiently.

“Let’s get married.” She breathed finally. Feeling her lungs begin to work, they went through the rest of the ceremony without a hitch. The scare was over, and nothing was going to keep them from being married anymore.

Sean’s hands were slightly shaking when he slid the ring onto her finger, which made her feel better as her were as well. Words seemed to blur together as they said their vows, but two words stuck out.

“I do.” Sean said.

“I do.” She repeated.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” Renard did not need another moment to think, before he grabbed his wife and brought her in for a loving kiss. Cheers and clapping became background noise as the couple shared their first married kiss. An hour later it felt like, they finally came back up for air. Sean leaned them both back up from their dipped position and walked down the aisle with his bride, hand in hand.

A little while later, the reception was in full swing. Music was raving, drinks were flowing, and everyone was in a blissful state of mind. Sitting at a table alone, the couple were enjoying watching their friends dance and make a fool of themselves together. Sean wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in closer than she already was.

“I love you, Mrs. Renard.” He spoke with such adoration in his gaze and tone.

“I love you as well, Mr. Renard.” She replied, and pulled her husband in for a kiss.

After all this time, being able to call the man ‘husband’, and the woman ‘wife’, was all they cared about. Her family being there may have thrown off the day a little bit, but nothing was going to get in the way of her being with her captain any longer.

[indoraunactiveblog]

Character profile and context

Name: Rosalee Calvert

Fandom: Grimm (nbc tv series)

Age: 32 aprox

Love interest: Monroe

Species: Fuchsbau

What is Grimm?

Grimm is an American fantasy police procedural drama television series. Homicide Detective Nick Burkhardt of the Portland Police Department learns he descended from a line of guardians known as Grimms, charged with keeping balance between humanity and the Wesen, or mythological creatures of the world (Wesen is the German word for being or creature). Throughout the series, he must battle against an assortment of dangerous creatures with help from his Wesen friends, Monroe (blutbad), Rosalee (fuchsbau) and his human friends, Hank Griffin and Drew Wu.

What are wesen?

Wesen is a collective term used to describe the creatures visible to the Grimms. They are the basis not only of the fairy tales that the Brothers Grimm have compiled, but also of the many legends and folklore from many cultures. When in human form, Wesen are, by all accounts, physiologically that way and thus, can pass as human. However, certain aspects about them still sets them apart from the rest of humanity, as their true forms resemble certain creatures. Fuchsbau are fox-like wesen.