#Eisbiber

[indoraptorgirlwind]

Wesen Moodboards

Eisbiber (German: Ice Beaver)

Eisbiber have a reputation for cowardice (though they prefer to call it "common sense". Eisbiber show gratitude and/or guilt by giving hand-made gifts: fruit pies appear to be something of a go-to choice. They are usually friendly and non-violent, careful not to offend anyone, but they can be very nosy.

They are very communal and often make decisions that have an impact on their community democratically by voting at their Lodge. Eisbibers have a love for fixing and building things and are naturally hard-working, industrious, and quite good at it. As a result, they often find employment as construction workers, construction contractors, and repairmen of various types.

Notables: Bud Wurstner, Roscoe, Irv, John Oblinger, Robert Grosszahn.

#Grimm #nbc grimm #Wesen #Eisbiber #Wesen daily moodboards

[dawn-petrichor-world]

Fluff: 🦋❤️‍🔥 / Smut: 🫦🌶️ / Angst: 🧨💥 / Hurt/comfort: ❤️‍🩹💔 / Nothing: 🫰🏽✨.

Once upon a Grimm: (part 1) (part 2)❤️‍🩹💔 Summary: It took you time for your Wesen part to come out. You're alone since you can remember. You're a freak and freeze in rock every poor soul who sadly crosses your way until she hunts you and almost kills you but finally can't.

#Trubel #Grimm #Nick Burkhardt #Theresa Rubel #Eddy Monroe #Rosalee Calvert #Adalind Schade #Sean Renard #Hank Griffin #Drew Wu #Juliette Silverton #Eve #Bud Wurstner #Wesen #Blutbad #Fuchsbau #Hexenbiest #Zauberbiest #Eisbiber

[fuckyeahnickburkhardt]

The Eisbibers give me such autumn vibes. You just know they would have the coziest homes and make the best apple cider.

#grimm #liza posts #eisbibers #leave it to beavers #1x19

[hoffmanstits-enjoyer]

Rosalee: when i first met you, i thought you and Monroe were a couple

Nick: what?! wait... ha-ha Rosalee, that's very funny-

Rosalee, unimpressed: raise your hand if at any point you thought Nick and Monroe were a couple

Holly & Hap: *raises hand*

Bud & The Eisbibers: *joining*

Frank, Barry & Roddy: *out of the loop but doing it*

Hank, Wu, Renard & Juliette: *you guessed it*

Nick: OKAY! i guess this is a thing now- Monroe, why are you raising your hand?!

#incorrect grimm quotes #rosalee takes no nonsense #she's cute but vicious #i love her #the women from grimm are all badasses #i also think most people that get to know those two think at some point that there's more to it #i mean a blutbad and a grimm?! there has to be something stupid like lust involved #flashback to that episode monroe realized all of the secrecy of their relationship made it sound like he was a side piece #good times #nick burkhardt #monroe grimm #rosalee calvert #sean renard #hank griffin #frank rabe #barry rabe #holly clark #hap lasser #juliette silverton #bud wurstner #arnold rosarot #roddy geiger #drew wu #grimm #nickroe

[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*.)

#grimm #nbc grimm #monrosalee #rosalee calvert #monroe (grimm) #fanfic #juliette silverton #nick burkhardt #hank griffin #mew writes too much #have a story from the last decade lol #okay it's only 9yo but still

[grimmswan]

Unexpected part 10

Unexpected Gifts

Grimm: Nick/Adalind

Massive Canon Divergence. Does not follow the timeline of the show. Nick Burkhardt is dealing with a broken heart after his girlfriend leaves him without word or warning. Adalind Schade is dealing with a broken heart after finding out the man she loved had been sleeping with her mother on the same day her mother was killed. When Adalind discovers she is pregnant, Nick volunteers to be there for her through everything. Together, they discover how the unexpected might not be such a bad thing.

Finally feeling like he could move on with his life, Nick threw himself into creating a new one with Adalind.

And with the time off that they both were given, he and Adalind had plenty of time to do that.

Nick and Adalind took full advantage of their time off.

Thanks to Adalind’s legal help, Nick had a large sum of money in his bank account. And as lovely as the hexenbiest made her home look, it wasn’t really a good size for a growing family.

Since he had the time, he started looking online at houses for sale.

One day after making an appointment with a realtor, a dozen eisbiber showed up at Adalind’s home, eager to create the perfect house for them.

"I thought you said the realtor was a hexenbiest?" Nick looked at Adalind and asked, curious as to why there was a group of eisbiber looking at him and smiling eagerly. 

"She is. But she has three eisbiber on her staff." Adalind explained. "I really should have suspected this would happen."

It was made clear that Adalind would not need to lift a finger. All she would have to do was say what she wanted, and the rest of the group would give it to her.

Nick was particularly protective of her. Refusing to even allow her to carry her purse to and from the car when they ran errands or visited people.

Nick would have preferred it if Adalind stayed in bed and allowed him to tend to her, but she turned that idea down immediately.

“I would go crazy with nothing to do but read or watch tv. There will be plenty of time for me to be housebound when the baby comes. So until then, I need to be out and about while I can.”

Though most of her out and about consisted of being at the spice shop, enjoying a cup of herbal tea and talking with Freddie and Rosalee.

With the time off that he had been given, Nick was taking the opportunity to learn about wesen, their various traits, and the cultural behaviors they tended to have. And all of his new wesen friends, and wesen girlfriend, were more than happy to help in his research. And it was just more convenient to do said research at the spice shop.

Monroe would stop by for a couple of hours each day. Usually to have lunch with the group and talk about his ancestors' side of whatever the topic of the day consisted of.

One particular day, the topic was family gatherings, and what was expected of each member.

Nick was especially curious, because he would be adopting Adalind’s, and his friend’s, customs for future holidays and events.

There were no significant family traditions that he could remember growing up.

And after his parents died and his Aunt Marie became his guardian, there was never anything special that they did during any holiday or occasion.

He had been more than happy to adopt Juliette's traditions as his own, when they were together. But now that life was in the past, and he certainly was not going to bring those traditions in his new one.

A new beginning meant new ways of celebrating special occasions.

After the heartbreak her mother had put her through, Adalind expressed a strong interest in creating whole new traditions. Ones that had no connection to her family. Especially her mother.

Luckily for both Nick and Adalind, their wesen friends had plenty of traditions and were more than happy to share.

And of course, they expected to create their own special traditions just for their own unique family.

A large step toward that goal was finding the right house and creating a home.

Their friends were also more than happy to help with that as well.

The estate and financial law expertise of the hexenbiests, combined with an army of determined eisbiber, accomplished in a few days what would normally take weeks, or even months.

Nick and Adalind were moved into their perfect home. A beautiful house just outside of the city. With a huge yard all around it. Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms. And most importantly, a large enough garage to hold a trailer full of Grimm journals.

Using the excuse that Nick liked to build and restore things, such as classic cars, and boats, Adalind had told her friend that Nick needed a large work shed.

When the hexenbiest realtor found the perfect house with everything but the large work shed, the eisbiber built one in an impressively short amount of time.

“It’s going to take us longer to find furniture for the house than it did to find the house.” Nick joked.

“We’ll deal with interior design after the baby is born.” Adalind sighed. She wanted to create a space that reflected both hers and Nick’s style and interests. But she was in no shape to be going to furniture stores and looking at couches, so her things would just have to do.

Though they did look really sparse in the much bigger space.

But sooner than expected, a tiny bundle was also filling a space.

It was the dead of night. The moon was full, high, and bright in the sky.

Adalind was woken with a surging pain. At first, she tried to remain silent. She was certain that the cramps were a false alarm.

It was common for many to experience false labor.

But the pain of the cramps increased. And got closer together.

“Honey, I’m pretty sure you’re in labor.” Nick observed from his spot beside her on the bed.

“I thought it might have been Braxton Hicks.” Adalind shook her head.

The liquid that rushed out of her indicated that she was, in fact, experiencing real labor contractions. And that her daughter was on the way.

There was no way they were going to make it to the hospital on time. And Adalind didn’t want an ambulance.

“If the paramedics are wesen, they might have a bad reaction to you being a grimm. If they aren’t wesen and I woge, they could have a bad reaction to me. I’m not taking any chances.”

So Nick did the next best thing, and called Elizabeth, and Rosalee, and put them on speaker.

“I’m on my way.” Elizabeth said, putting a bluetooth bud in her ear as she gathered what might be needed to help her first grandchild, and the mother of that child.

Rosalee promised the same, after first stopping at the spice shop to gather everything that could possibly come in handy.

A spell suddenly occurred to Adalind. It was a guaranteed way of ensuring no harm would come to her baby.

But for it to work, she needed to be outside.

She tried to get out of the bed, but Nick stopped her.

“Adalind, you’re about to drop this baby any minute. You need to stay in bed.”

“I need to go to the garden. The flowers growing there will aid in a protection spell. But I have to give birth among them for it to work.”

Giving a heavy sigh at the strangeness his life had become, Nick scooped Adalind up and carried her to the garden.

There among the flowers, with the full moon overhead, Adalind gave birth to a healthy baby girl.

It would be Nick who would touch the baby first, in order to place her in her mother’s arms.

Rosalee and Elizabeth would arrive shortly after, confirming the baby was in fact, healthy. And would witness the love and admiration in Nick’s eyes as he looked at Adalind and the baby.

Elizabeth would call her son and inform him that his daughter had been born. Sean Renard would thank his mother for letting him know, showing concern and asking if the child and mother were alright, but other than that gave little reaction to the matter.

Rosalee would inform her brother Freddie, and her boyfriend Monroe about the baby’s birth in the morning.

By that time mother and child would be in the hospital, getting checked out by the doctors. Who would conform that nothing had gone wrong.

The two men would express excitement, offer congratulations, and each show up at the hospital room with large arrangements of flowers.

But there was a moment, when it was just Nick, Adalind, and the baby, that a strange stillness seemed to surround the trio. It was as if everything was centered around that time, that place, those three beating hearts.

And an understanding came over Adalind. She looked at the full moon. Then she looked at her baby cradled in her arms, “Diana. Her name is Diana.”

 She looked at Nick with a loving smile. “After the goddess of the moon, and of the hunt.”

The implication was clear. The name would have a connection to the man who was a father to the child in every way that mattered.

#grimm #nadalind #nick burkhardt #adalind schade #nick/adalind #nick x adalind #nick and adalind #nbc grimm #grimm nbc #nbcgrimm #grimm fanfiction #grimmswanfic

[hearteyesmcgarrett]

nick is so protective of the eisbibers and its very sweet (and amusing)

#he just cant help but protect people!! #grimm liveblog

[chaoticinsomne]

Capitulo 2 El ascenso de stiles

El FBI fue duro, nuevo horario, nuevas reglas del juego pero stiles no era mas que terco

termino la escuela ignorando a la manada (exepto a peter, el bastardo era persistente) y de inmediato se unio al entrenamiento de FBI junto a conseguir todos los grados academicos en los que pudiera poner sus manos, stiles era inteligente pero tonto, no había querido dejar a tras a sus amigos, o a los que se suponia que eran sus amigos pero sin la manada stiles se sumergio y termino su escuela y de inmediato se metio para conseguir una especialidad en Psicología, Folklore, y se metio en el material de leyes (no pensaba ser un abogado pero siempre era bueno saber como defenderse al romper la ley) asi como cursos de primeros auxilios y material medico, se inscribe en boxeo y otras clases de defensa (había recibido suficientes golpes ahora queria ser capaz de darlos)

tenia 18 años recien cumplidos cuando se fue de beacon hills, ahora stiles tenia 24 y los superiores se dieron cuenta que el sabia sobre lo sobrenatural,

mas que darse cuenta stiles les grito después de entrar a la fuerza a un reunion con su superior y declarar que su compañero era un incopetente cuando le quiso disparar a una chica de solo 7 años cuando la vio transformarse en una balam [https://grimm.fandom.com/es/wiki/Balam , quienes poseían un aspecto de jaguar con pelaje azul grisáceo con manchas negras de dia.

stiles tuvo que noquearlo por que no queria bajar su arma y le iba a disparar a una niña de 7 años por su aspecto e iban a declarar una guerra contra los balam

después de eso ( y muchos gritos y amenazas) los superiores se dieron cuenta sobre el otro lado de su mundo y empezaron a hacer arreglos para una unidad para estos tipos de casos, stiles les advirtio sobre los cazadores, como los argents, y que no todos los humanos estaban listos para escuchar que lo sobrenatural existe

después de todo la respuesta del humano hacia lo que no conoce no ha sido la mejor, solo tenemos que ver las historia de las sirenas y como fueron cazadas o los vampiros o los hombres lobos.

stiles sin querer reconocer fue puesto a cargo de escoger a un equipo, stiles no se dio ilusiones de que esto fuera una recompensa, sino una advertencia, si esto salía mal era su cabeza la que rodaria, y asi a los 24 años empezó a ver quien seria bueno para tener en su equipo y asi encontro a 3 personas

sean griffin tenia 32 años, era un buen investigador y ya sabia lo sobrenatural habiaendo crecido en una familia de Eisbiber (https://grimm.fandom.com/es/wiki/Eisbiber) pero sin tener el gen para transformarse a menudo preferia estar en investigacion y tenia un caracter gentil y timido

stiles casi le había dado un infarto cuando le pregunto que especie era

matthew ”sulli” sullivan tenia 35 años y venia de una larga linea de cazadores que había dejado al ver que su familia se volvia fanaticos como los argents, cuando sulli escucho lo que había hecho stiles exigio estar en el equipo diciendo que el ya sabia sobre la otra cara del mundo y que era logico, era directo y a menudo gruñon pero era un buen hombre

la ultima fue rosalee monroe 30años y era una Fuchsbau (https://grimm.fandom.com/es/wiki/Fuchsbau ) que a menudo molestaba a sean tratando de asustarlo, la primera vez que la vio rosalee le dijo sin pensar que stiles olia a zorro, electricidad y lluvia, rosalie era una buena agente que stiles apreciaba

solo eran 4 en la nueva unidad pero desde el inicio todos se comprometieron, esta era una oportunidad ( sino la ultima) de ayudar a lo sobrenatural y educar poco a poco a los seres humanos sobre su mundo sin que fuera contaminado con las mentiras de los cazadores

stiles les conto como la UAC y todos empezaron a tratar de obtener todo el conocimiento necesario de ellos, rosalee pregunto por que simplemente no se unian a ellos y stiles les dijo sin duda que la UAC ya estaba estructurado, ya tenían sus papeles definidos y mientras que era un buen equipo para tratar con los humanos no sabian nada sobre lo sobrenatural

el tratar que ellos cambiaran sin tener una idea de como solo haria las cosas complicadas, eso sin tener en cuenta que los fundadores, jason gideon y david rossie querrrian asumir el cargo y stiles no estaba dispuesto a soltarlo tan pronto (un poco egoista y controlador se dio cuenta) y stiles aun no sabia si se podía confiar la informacion a ellos.

sean, sulli y rosalee estuvieron de acuerdo y asi continuaron, recogieron perfiles tanto humanos como wensen (un termino que sean y rosalee acordaron dar ) y su informacion crecio, stiles creo un bestiario mejor, uno mas grande y sin todo el prejuicio de los cazadores

empezaron a salir en casos, la informacion de que había una unidad que se encargaba de lo sobrenatural se extendio al otro lado decomunidad wensen y empezaron a llegarles casos, stiles y su equipo empezaron a crecer en conocimiento y experiencia y aun que a stiles le habian preguntado el por que no había otro miembro de equipo este solo se encogía de hombros y decia que hasta ahora estaba funcionando.

Algunas veces alguien del equipo o el propio stiles resultaban heridos, ya sea por un disparo de arma, cuchillo o garras, fue necesario que todos aprendieran a luchar juntos con prueba y error, aveces rosalee se adelantaba o sulli lo hacía, aveces a stiles le resultaba difícil abrirse pero aprendieron y continuaron, stiles aprendió un poco de magia para hacer barreras contra los wensen más agresivos, no siempre funcionaban pero cuando lo hacían eran buenos as bajo la manga.

el tiempo paso y sin darse cuenta ya habian paso 3 años desde que se fundo su equipo.

stiles tenia 27 años cuando el pensamiento de matar a alguien volvio y fue una desgracia que ese alguien fuera uno de sus superiores que dictó que se se unirian a la UAC. stiles argumento en contra, ellos no estaban capacitados para los casos wensen por que no sabian sobre ellos.

le dijeron que los capacitaran, que la union se haría con el o sin el como jefe, sean, sulli y rosalee amenazaron con renunciar si a stiles lo quitaban como jefe de su equipo y los superiores lo dejaron como co-jefe con Aaron Hotchner, jefe de la UAC.

stiles tenia 27 años y pensaba en todas las posibilidades en que esto saldria mal, stiles tendria que proteger a su equipo y a la comunidad wensen si resulta que la UAC no era confiables

#criminal minds #fanfiction #fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski #yaoi #yaoi bl #malexmale

[loluy]

The soul of this show. (Душа этого сериала).

Гримм/Grimm (2011-2017)

#гримм #grimm #grimmedit #grimm nbc #grimmtv #tv #series #nbc #gif #gifs #my post #post #scene #bud wurstner #bud #danny bruno #wesen #soul #show #eisbiber #nick burkhardt #david giuntoli #hank griffin #russell hornsby #monroe #silas weir mitchell #rosalee calvert #bree turner #loveit

[graynailspainted]

Eisbibers just making and giving Nick things constantly is probably the funniest recurring joke they have in the series and I hope it continues throughout the seasons

#grimm nbc #grimm #nick burkhardt #eisbiber

[badass-magizoologist]

My favourite thing about Grimm is that the monster hunter is basically being trained and taught by monsters

#Grimm #hunter #Wesen #Monroe #Nick Burkhardt #Hank Griffin #Juliet Silversomething #Blutbad #Hexenbiest #Eisbiber #Reaper

[indoraptorgirlwind]

These are some options i thought of personally

#Indora polls #Grimm #Nbc grimm #scott lang #ant-man #ant man #antman #Grimm au #Wesen

[hannahofathousanddays]

NICK IS A SENSITIVE GRIMM

This is the hill I’ll die on

S2ep18

#grimm season 2 #nbc grimm #grimm #nick burkhardt #Bud the Eisbiber #i love him so muhuhuch

[fuckyeahnickburkhardt]

This episode has Everything. The first (unofficial, unwitting) Team Grimm dinner party. Monhardt. Forest training montage. Eisbibers. Heartfelt conversations about helping each other and what it takes to make change happen. Decapitations. Questionable postage. SO many pies.

#grimm #liza posts #leave it to beavers #this was the episode that made me start this blog #for a REASON

[starkcontrasts]

Grimm Ravings

The political connotations of a Grimm having a Hexenbiest baby mama and, eventually, wife are just-

So gorgeous and delightful to consider, if you ask me. Because for all that Nick tries his best to keep his identity secret, that doesn't mean he doesn't have a reputation. Oh and what a storied reputation it is, especially as the years pass.

I mean, just think about it: Wesen, Resistance Members, Royals, and other Grimms around the world just spreading the hearsay about The Portland Grimm and how he's killed a member of the Royal Family, how he had a brief debacle with but eventually went back to working alongside Another™ member of that same Royal Family. How he outmaneuvered said family in their centuries-long endeavor at attaining godly power, within his first few years as a Decapitare. How he works alongside a Blutbad and a Fuchsbau and has a whole lodge of Eisbiber starry-eyed and willing to call on long-forgotten courage to aid in his pursuits. The Portland Grimm who they say can identify a Wesen from hearing them woge alone and fights with the strength of his entire bloodline (exaggeration? maybe, but who can say. Theresa Rubel aka Trubel aka Hadrian's Grimm, traversing the globe and said Portland Grimm's 3rd cousin, certainly won't be the one to correct them. Neither will Eve, for that matter, but she's mostly helping run HW nowadays so she doesn't get out on the field much unless it's absolutely necessary anyways.). The Portland Grimm who saved a foundational member of the Resistance, sent two heads as a crystal clear "fuck around find out" message to the same organization that has successfully executed a slew of his own ancestors for centuries, and who has killed too many members of the Verrat to count. The Portland Grimm with ties to the Wesen Council, Old and New, and who's been granted diplomatic immunity so long as he keeps his decapitating tendencies to lawbreakers only.

The Portland Grimm who's married to the same Hexenbiest who not only bore a member of the same™ aforementioned Royal Family, but who's eldest daughter is The-Heir-To-Beat and possibly the most powerful being in creation. The Portland Grimm and his Hexenbiest wife who made a child that's an amalgam of two genetically opposed bloodlines - seriously Kelly is a petri dish for all sorts of wacky magic, just like his older sister - and is the grandson of both Catherine Schade, a Hexenbiest infamous in Europe if not elsewhere too, and Kelly Burkhardt, the Grimm Who Defied Death.

And what about Adalind? Adalind who simply has to be aware of her own reputation because you can't be a kickass lawyer and, freshly robbed of your powers, choose to throw your lot in with volatile bluebloods as a strategic way of regaining your livelihood, without having an iron-grip on how you present yourself before the masses. Adalind, the Hexenbiest who outlived three Royals: a prince with a reputation for ruthlessness and getting results, the actual Crown Prince himself, and the reigning King. Adalind, who has a begrudging relationship with the recently crowned King Viktor and who's first baby daddy is Sean Renard, the Portland Royal. Adalind who, in the span of a few days, gained the affection of a high-ranking asset to the Resistance, The Martin Meisner. Adalind, the Hexenbiest who bore not one but Two miracle babies (I want to say a third too because there's no way her and Nick have presumably 15+ years of marriage, give or take, beneath their belt without at least one more child between them). Adalind, the one-woman law firm with serious pull regarding the outcome of Wesen-related cases, and who has represented more than her fair share of Wesen before a trigger-happy, newly-established and justifiably paranoid Council. Adalind, the Hexenbiest that bagged a Grimm and makes it common knowledge that if you come after her family, she won't just sit pretty. Nick is the one who takes heads, who brandishes a gun and an axe, Nick is executioner, hunter, and he's also the knight protecting the castle gates but Adalind is the last defense(before the kids get to have their fun, anyway), Adalind is wife and mother (would've been Queen in another life and will be Queen Mother when Diana takes her rightful place on the throne) but Adalind is also the Witch in this little fairytale metaphor that is their entire lives, and witches won't even leave a soul for the afterlife to take.

Genuinely, the tomes of lore and socio-political implications for where our main characters stand on the world stage within Grimm are ridiculous in their potential and I remain endlessly peeved that NBC's coward ass cancelled them when we'd just scratched the surface.

#grimm #nbc grimm #long post #rant post #worldbuilding #political connotations within fantasy worlds #grimm: what could've been and could still be #nick burkhardt #adalind schade #diana schade-renard-burkhardt?? #idk does diana keep all three? #kelly burkhardt #maybe she does and that's why kslly only kept nick's last name bc his sister hogged mom's too lol #nadalind #nick x adalind #thoughts #wesen #wesen council #royal family #grimm royals #resistance #martin meisner #sean renard #erik kronenburg #i think that was his last name?? idk #catherine schade #theresa rubel #trubel #grimm ravings

[drjohndisco]

28 Days of Grimm - Days 15, 16, and 17 (What Wesen you Think you’d be, Most terrifying Big Bad, and a one-off Character you wish had Come back)

Day 15: What Wesen You Think You’d Be

I’d like to be either a pflichttreue or a damonfuer, but I feel like I’d actually be an eisbiber.

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Day 16: Most Terrifying Big Bad

The only one that’s coming to mind is The Royals, but that’s mostly due to me not really remembering any of the other antagonists.

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Day 17: One-Off Character You Wish Had Come Back

Ariel Eberhart! The episode ending shows us that she isn’t done with Nick. I would have liked to see Juliette react to her after knowing more about the world, I think that could have been an interesting confrontation.

#grimm #fire cw #body horror cw #28daysofgrimmversary