#Grimm NBC

[avriion]

Alignment Chart of Shows I’ve seen

I will maybe take input if you so desire

[wesen-grimmopedia]

The Grimm writers were so real for making a wesen whose name directly translates to “bloodbath” and then giving us the softest cardigan wearing, cello playing, vegetarian clockmaker.

[charliewrites99]

Season 1 of Grimm:

Every Wesen @ Monroe: Oh my god, you can't be friends with a Grimm! They are our mortal enemies! They killed so many of our own! You should be ashamed-

Monroe: Ok, listen I know, but he is absolutely useless. This man doesn't know anything about anything. It's literally the saddest most pathetic thing I have ever seen. And he can't speak German.

Nick in the background getting his ass handed to him by a wesen he has never seen before, which didn't stop him from getting into a fistfight anyway.

Monroe: He is different I swear...I can change him... YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!

[jellysmudge]

Top 10 Grimm Scenes: the episode in early season one when Monroe says, “Well, I sniffed her out,” and Nick responds with “Good boy ;)” and Monroe looks absolutely fucking appalled.

[xviruserrorx]

The main male character and then his female parallel but she's a small angry lesbian

[green5quirrel]

TL;DR: I think Monroe's striking and chiming clocks were underutilized for truly hilarious interruptions when the hour strikes and 5 or so clocks announce it in sync.

I think we've all looked over a very important detail in Nick having stayed over at Monroe's for a time. I feel like I REALLY want someone to explore this in a fanfiction of some sort.

Monroe has several "striking" clocks in his house. A striking clock (or just clock for those who differentiate clocks as striking and timepieces as non-striking) makes sounds every hour, half hour, or can chime every quarter hour depending on the number of mechanisms.

Monroe obviously has a grandfather clock (or grandmother clock as I'm not sure the height of it) thanks to him telling Hap not to touch it. So that is definitely a striking and chime clock. Or has the potential to be as such if it's not silenced. He also has potentially more than one cuckoo clock.

Can you imagine the absolute terror of a person who has never been in a house with more than one striking clock as it hits the hour or half hour for the first time.

Now, ideally Monroe will have silenced most of his clocks. I don't know. I don't have any working clocks. I don't know how most horologists do things at their private homes. If they find the striking nostalgic or welcomed. But let's err on the side that Monroe has been living alone for a long time and actually does find a few chimes and striking nostalgic after growing up with it as his dad seemed to also be into clocks.

Let's layer this with the fact that Nick has very sensitive hearing (though I'm not sure when that happens. I could have my timelines wrong). Despite that, you're just getting to sleep at around 11pm or midnight and for some reason have been oblivious to or accepting of the chimes during the day. Or this is your first night in your friend, Monroe's, house and suddenly the first floor below you erupts in various chimes and tunes.

Can you imagine?!

I'm actually kind of astounded that this was never properly explored in the. In not one scene does any of Monroe's clocks strike despite how long everyone is at his house. I mean, if I had clocks I'd at least appreciate one of them striking.

The point is, I really want to either write or read a fanfiction where either Rosalee or Nick or Hank experiences the sound of an hour in the most unexpected way and grumpily complains to a completely and adorably oblivious Monroe.

(It would also have been a great gag if in the middle of a dramatic conversation it struck the top of the hour and Monroe patiently waits for his clocks to sound off before continuing. And Nick/whoever he's talking to is just like "Seriously dude?" And he's like, "What? ...fine! I'll silence them. Jeez! I didn't ask you to be here anyway, man!")

[fourteendaysinaweek]

Monroe: I have a bad feeling about this

Nick: what do you mean?

Monroe: do you ever get that little voice in the back of your head that tells you not to do something?

Nick: no

Monroe: ...

Monroe: that explains a lot.

[alannacouture]

The enduring female friendships of the women of Grimm will always make me happy (that, and their casual, all the time drinking 🍷)

[loluy]

I guess you don’t need to be a Hexenbiest to be a witch. - Nick

You don’t have to be a witch to work this kind of magic. - Adalind

Because under different circumstances, i think you and i could have really had some fun. (Adalind)

Гримм/Grimm (2011-2017)

[theo-files]

renard: well, whatever way you look at it, it's still cannibalism.

wu: uhh, I think it's pronounced "capitalism."

[snakefell]

nick and trubel, the ultimate father-daughter found family duo

i love the found family trope between all the grimm characters, but this adopted father-daughter duo is UNMATCHED and i wanna talk about it.

nick took her under his wing and let her stay with him and juliette because he KNEW what she was going through. when he first started seeing wesen, he had aunt marie and monroe to help him navigate it all. trubel had NOBODY. she watched a wesen kill her foster parents, and she was constantly getting attacked by these monsters that nobody else could see.

when she met nick, he showed her the trailer and the grimm books. he helped her realise she wasn’t going crazy, that he could see them too. i feel like it’s a parallel to aunt marie telling nick the truth when he first started seeing wesen - “… we can see them for what they really are” - telling him that he isn’t going crazy, that this is real.

marie also gives him the books and everything else in the trailer, all of which had been passed down generations of their family, and he lets trubel use them. i know that the others (hank, wu, etc) were also allowed to use them, but this was different. nick had known them for a long time before opening up to them about him being a grimm. him and trubel shared that ability, giving them an instant connection that didn’t exist between nick and anyone else.

i also love how every time trubel comes back, there’s such a pure reunion between her and her dad nick. it really does feel like she’s his grown-up child who’s left the nest and is coming back to spend some family time killing wesen visit.

i’m so glad the producers didn’t push a romance plot between them, because their dynamic is a beautiful example of found family done right.

[theinnermostsanctum]

Captain Renard, to Nick & Hank: “You know, my great great grandfather on my mother’s side was a big believer in rituals and sacrifices. That’s what got him burned at the stake.”

I love how he just randomly added this into casual conversation

[wesen-grimmopedia]

I’m going to pretend that I’m not going feral for Grimm after starting to rewatch it, and that I’m definitely not slightly distressed by the lack of active fandom this show has.

[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

[jellysmudge]

Do Grimm fans exist in the year 2023. Do they live. Or do I just have to make obscure fanart and aus and comics all by myself

[mikaela-granger]

Incorrect Quote 1 - Grimm

Fandom: Grimm

Banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

Incorrect quote inspired by a quote from @911-incorrect-quotes-dispatch

Y/N: Stop looking down at me.

Sean: I am taller than you, of course I look down at you.

Wu: Maybe you better put some inches in her than.

Y/N (blushing): Would you stop hitting on me on his behalf?

Sean: I am perfectly capable of ‘hitting on’ Y/N without your help.

Wu: You two are taking forever. I’m trying to speed up the process.