#grimm sean renard

[fairy-writes]

Hey!!! Love your work!!! I was wondering if you could write literally anything about Sean Renard maybe some tooth rotting fluff. I just love him and it’s sad that not many people know about Grimm or even write about it.

IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): NBC Grimm

Pairing(s): Sean Renard x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Short!Reader (mostly because Renard is a freaking giant at 6’5”), Renard is sick

Notes: Ok but I’m loving writing for Grimm again. Thanks for requesting lovely!

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“You look like shit.” You blurt the second Sean Renard opens the door to his own home. He scowls down at you, and you scowl right back. There’s deep bags under his eyes and a sickly parlor to his sweat soaked skin. He’s dressed in a rumpled hoodie and sweatpants that you didn’t even know he owned. 

Since when did he own sweatpants?

Or a hoodie for that matter? 

And what’s even worse, he can barely stand up straight, leaning heavily on the doorframe. 

“You’re so kind.” He says and opens the door wider so you can come inside. 

You make your way to the dining room where you set bags of groceries on the table and turn with your hands on your hips.

“When you said you were sick, I didn’t think you were literally dying.” You say as you give him a once over as he stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“I’m not dying.” He says and you roll your eyes,

“Coulda fooled me. I didn’t even know you owned sweatpants.” You turn back to your bags and rifle through them, tossing him a bottle of Gatorade and gesturing for him to go sit down.

You meander your way around his kitchen, cleaning the dirty dishes and disinfecting the counters before pulling out some ingredients for a simple chicken noodle soup.

It was a classic and easy and good for someone who was sick. Especially the giant of a man who was sprawled out on the couch in the living room.

As you cook, you put the tea kettle on and keep an eye on him. You’re able to spot his head lolling back against the couch pillows and you can hear the tell tale sound of book pages turning and the occasional sniffling. 

Typically he’s at least in the kitchen with you while you cook. But you figured you’d make an exception just this once.

Soon enough, the food is done and you bring a mug of herbal tea and a bowl of soup on a TV dinner tray where Sean is waiting. He’a reading some philosophy book that you don’t care to read the title of. You can see where he’s marked certain passages or used miscellaneous scraps of paper as bookmarks.

He always did love a good book.

“Did you start that book I lent you?” You ask as you set down the tray and start cleaning up his space. Random book piles are straightened on the coffee table and old dishes are taken to the sink.

He really must be sick if his house is this messy.

Sean sits up and sets his book atop the most recent pile of books. These ones are in various languages that you can’t even begin to read. French. Arabic. Russian. And was that Latin? Who even wrote Latin books anymore?

“I started it. Couldn’t get into it.” Sean says, snapping you from your musings. You hum as you take the half finished Gatorade and hand him the soup. He says a quiet thank you before digging in.

“It takes a bit to get going. But I think you’ll like it eventually. If not, I have plenty of other things to recommend to you.” You reply and he merely grunts through a mouthful of noodles. You finish folding a blanket and flop into the armchair beside the couch, letting him eat in a warm, blissful silence.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Sean says as he follows you up the stairs and into his bedroom. You begin to rifle through his en-suite bathroom cabinets, looking for a thermometer.

It’s nowhere to be found.

“Yeah and ten bucks says you don’t make it to bed before passing out.” You retort absentmindedly, jerking up to look into the bedroom when you hear a thump.

It was just Sean tossing his book on the bedside table.

You huff and gently push him toward the bed. He moves without complaint and part of you wished he’d get sick more often. It wasn’t often that he was so obedient.

Luckily, Sean has some NyQuil in his cabinets so you pour him a dose and his nose scrunches as he makes a face.

“No thanks. I’m fine.” He tries, and you very nearly force his jaw open to pour it down his throat yourself.

“Drink this and don’t argue with me.” You say, exasperated.

After some back and forth, Sean finally takes the medicine and sags back into bed. You lean forward and press the back of your hand to his forehead,

“You’re burning up. Hopefully the meds will help.” You mumble and he catches your hand as you go to move away.

“Thank you.” He says seriously and you grin, reaching back to smooth his hair back over his sweaty forehead.

“It’s not a problem. I’m just a phone call away if you need me.” You say and lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Hopefully it doesn’t get you sick.

[thekirbishow]

Sean Renard is hot

[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.

[theo-files]

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

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

[jellysmudge]

Yall know that tiktok thing where people put quotes and match them with characters. I like to be sad.

[archaghoul]

What would yall call this

[bullet-prooflove]

3500 Follower Celebration: Say It Again - Sean Renard x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kabloswrld @words-and-seeds

Hitting bingo square: "I'm yours." "Say it again."

It’s almost violent the way that Sean loves you. It’s a furious, rampant emotion that sears through his nerve endings as he pins you against the penthouse door. He’s still wearing his shirt but his trousers are down by his ankles, his dick buried deep inside you as he fucks you like his sanity depends on you. In a way it does, because he needs you to see how much he wants you, how deep his feelings run. You’re hitched breathing rings in his ears as you bundle his shirt in your fists, grasping at the fabric as his cock rakes over that deviant little spot inside you, the one that makes you moan like a whore.

“Do you understand how much you mean to me?” He asks you, his voice a little rough. “Do you see it?”

You tilt your head away but Sean captures your jaw, gently guiding your gaze back to his.

“Madelyn, look at me.” He whispers, his nose trailing along yours. “Look into my eyes and see that I’m yours.”

You gasp as he hits that perfect place inside of you and he holds himself there, hips rocking just a little as the pleasure begins to build to a crescendo.

“Say it again.” You breathe as his thumb ghosts over your parted lips.  “Please, I just need…”

He knows what you need. You crave the same thing that he does, security, reassurance. This whole thing tonight had started because you’d been forced to watch him with another woman, her hands on him, touching him, her lips ghosting over his skin as she whispered in his ear. He hates that he can’t be with you the way he wants to, that he can’t love as openly as a normal man could. To do so would put a target on your back and Sean, he just can’t do that, so he plays the game the same way he always has.

For both your sake and his.

“I’m yours.” He promises you, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek. “For as long as you’ll have me, I always will be.”

Love Renard? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ravensilversea]

I’m like 95% convinced that there’s a series of wesen tea parties/gossip groups/drinking buddies/etc in Portland just spreading the news that there’s a Grimm in the police force like wildfire. But also I think it would 10 times funnier if there was a Wesen Forum: Portland Region where all of this gossip goes down (Am I thinking of it in terms of the NaNoWriMo forums? Yes, I am because those are the only forums I’m familiar with. I’m not sorry.) A few highlights include:

Monroe’s one of the moderators because pretty much everyone universally agrees that he’s got a good head on his shoulders

There’s a whole special flag for people who report wesen law violations to the Council, and ‘If you see a violation, please reach out to your local council contact in person or via private message’ is one of the rules

Sean Renard is absolutely on this forum. No one knows who he is. No one’s entirely sure if his username- ARightandRoyalBastard- is a description of his personality or a very concerning description of his heritage

Monroe eventually, and forcibly, changes Sean’s name to Grimmsitter because he’s petty like that. Everyone somewhat flips their shit, and there’s a whole betting ring about whether the newly named Grimmsitter is A) the police captain, B) the Grimm’s partner, C) the Grimm’s spouse, D) that one police sergeant that always shows up to every crime scene involving the Grimm, or E) someone else entirely

[fairy-writes]

Hi! Me again, your friendly neighborhood Sean Renard lover! I was wondering if whenever you feel like writing if you would consider writing Sean being very protective over the reader and everyone is saying to him that he’s so in lover with them and he’s like “no I’m not” and then he’s like realizing that’s he’s like in love with the reader damn near devoted. Or whatever you’d like to write. I’d honestly be happy with anything you put out. But take your time, no rush needed. Just whenever you feel like it. Thank you so much!!!! Have an awesome day!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

LITTLE BIRD

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): NBC Grimm

Pairing(s): Sean Renard x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Wesen!Reader, Use of nicknames (little bird), Reader is implied to have longer hair, but it’s not explicitly stated

Notes: I hope you enjoy!

TW for violence in the latter half of the oneshot (I’ll add an extra trigger warning when that starts)

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“Lieutenant Renard?” Sean looks up from his desk to see Cadet Drew Wu fidgeting with his button-down cuffs. He was nineteen and green in the gills, still exploring his options as a police cadet. But even though he hadn’t fully committed to the police academy yet, he was a hard worker. 

He’d make a good police officer.

Sean sets down his pen and clears his throat.

“What’s the matter, Wu?” The police cadet stepped aside, and Sean’s jaw almost dropped at the sight of you. It was as if you had come straight from a painting. It seemed you hadn’t changed at all. Well… not exactly. You had aged, being a handful of years younger than him.

But you were still as beautiful as the day he lost you.

After all, the last time he had seen you was when his mother took him, and they fled from the Royal family out for his blood. You were but a fledgling that hadn’t yet sprouted in your full glory.

You both stare at each other before Wu swallows awkwardly and takes his leave. Then, you take a seat at his desk and smile,

“It’s certainly been a while, Sean.” You say quietly, and he feels his heart stutter at your warm words.

It had been years since anyone other than his mother was so full of kindness for him.

He sets down his pen and leans his forearms on the desk.

“How did you find me?” He asks seriously, and you shrug 

“I have my ways. You should know this by now.” You tease, and your eyes flash a deep glowing blue for just a second. So quick, in fact, that he almost missed it. Feathers as black as pitch shuddered down your hairline before disappearing into your tresses.

Sometimes he forgot you were wesen. A Raub-Kondor, to be exact. And a brilliant one at that. You were often employed, even at a young age, by the Royal Families to track down and “take care of” certain traitors or deserters. It was how he met you in the first place. The thought of your job made him shudder,

“Are you here to get rid of me?” At this, you looked downright offended, eyes going wide and mouth dropping open ever so slightly.

“Of course not!” You hiss, and he feels his shoulders relax. He wasn’t in danger after all. You notice his palpable relief and smile that smile that makes his heart skip a beat. 

The two of you part ways with the promise of meeting up for coffee. Your number is stored safely in Sean’s phone, and you even send him a text saying, “It’s me :)” and he can’t help but smile at the little emoji. You were always lighthearted despite all the blood on your hands. 

You shift in place, eyes scanning every face in the small coffee shop as you wait for Sean to arrive. You check your phone and scroll through the brief messages you had shared with your childhood friend. He wasn’t the best conversationalist via texting. He typically preferred a call over texts. 

“Have you been waiting long?” Comes his voice, and you jump, knee jerking up and hitting the underside of the table. Your eyes meet his, and he offers a half smile, clearly amused by your reaction.

“Not at all. I just got here a few minutes ago. I took the liberty of ordering you a coffee, black with one sugar, if I remember right?” You say, ears burning at your surprise at his arrival. He sheds his long overcoat, drapes it over the chair across from the booth you were in, and takes a seat. 

“You remember correctly. I’m surprised you remember after all this time.” 

At that, you duck your head, ears burning even more in embarrassment. 

“I try to remember everything about you.” You say quietly, so quietly that he can barely hear it. But obviously, he does because his face splits into a warm grin. 

He looks so handsome when he smiles. 

The waitress brings over your drinks and a slice of chocolate cake that you ordered. You visibly brighten at the sight of the sweet treat and nearly dig in when you remember your manners. 

“Would you like some?” You offer, noting the waitress had gone through the trouble to give you an extra fork for the occasion. Sean, sipping his coffee, shakes his head. 

“Thank you, but I’ll pass for now. I know how much you adore your sweets.” He teases and you roll your eyes, secretly happy that you get the chocolate dessert all to yourself. 

The cake is absolutely demolished in a few minutes flat, though you were careful not to get any crumbs on your clothes. Then, you start on your coffee. 

“I see you still are a sugar addict,” Sean says as you add sugar to your bitter drink. You huff but stir and take a sip of the sweetened beverage. Perfect. 

“I prefer the term sugar motivated.” You say, and he chuckles, making your breath catch, but you hide it quickly by taking another sip. 

You thought your crush on the bastard prince had died over the years. 

Clearly not. 

“So…” You start, and he looks up from his coffee, eyebrow raised. “How’s life here in Portland?” He hums, glancing around the coffee shop before answering. 

“It’s certainly different than Vienna. But enough about me… Why are you here?” He asks, suddenly serious, and you have to fight the urge to sit up straight. 

You should’ve guessed he would ask something like this. It had taken you years to track him down to the Portland area. And for what? But you knew better than to lie. 

So… 

You didn’t. 

“I missed you. As stupid as it sounds, I missed having someone to talk to. Well… that and your mother is concerned about you joining the police department. She’s worried it’ll put a target on your back.” You say, and Sean sits back in his chair, stirring his coffee absentmindedly as he mulls over your words. 

“I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine. I’m surrounded by good people.” He says, and you raise an eyebrow skeptically. Thankfully, Sean takes your concern seriously. He always has. 

“But what if things go wrong?” You ask, and he shrugs a shoulder. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you are more than welcome to stay here in Portland to keep an eye on me.” You smile at his words, 

“I’d like that.” 

Despite your promises to keep out of the way, you quickly become absorbed into his little work family. As the years go on and the precinct grows, you are always a constant at his side. You attend his promotion ceremony from his previous ranks to precinct captain, and he holds your gaze the entire time as he gives his speech. 

Even as people come up and congratulate him, he finds himself only wanting your attention. He couldn’t care less about everyone else. 

He feels a smaller hand slip into his, and he looks to find you smiling up at him. He sets down his glass of champagne, still mildly embarrassed that the precinct threw this shindig for him. 

“Congratulations, Sean.” You whisper, and he hides a smile, but you still catch the twitch of his lips, and your smile widens. 

He’s about to say something, but you are both interrupted. 

“Is this your spouse?” Hank Griffin, homicide detective, and one of the most senior staff at the department. He’s followed by the newer homicide detective and his new work partner, Nick Burkhardt. Sean huffs out a dry laugh and shakes his head,

“Nothing like that. They’re a childhood friend, that’s all.” He says, and Hank nods, not entirely convinced.

Why was everyone doing that when he introduced you? Hell, even Wu didn’t seem to believe him.

Later, Sean spies you chatting with Nick as you raid the dessert table. You’re polite, and he feels his heart clench as Nick says something to make you laugh. Feathers shift down your hairline like they did whenever you half-woged, and he sees Nick’s face drop, but he hides the expression by the time you look up from your sweets. And that makes the clenched feeling in Sean’s heart twist more. 

Was he a Grimm?

He’d have to look into this more. 

Sean, ever the gentleman, walks you to your car after the celebration of his promotion. You, feeling adventurous, slip your hand into his and swing them back and forth ever so slightly. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t complain. He even squeezes your hand. 

“I just wanted to say congratulations again.” You say as he opens your car door. You squeeze his hand once more, and he offers a quick quirk of his lips that you almost miss. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you, little bird.” He says and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You feel your cheeks heat up and hide an embarrassed smile. 

He always was the cheeky one. 

Feeling a bit bold, you lean out our car window just as he leans down to presumably tell you goodbye and kiss his cheek. He freezes, eyes widening ever so slightly in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. 

He remains like that as you drive away, brushing his cheek with his fingers.

You chew on your lip as you watch him disappear in your rearview mirror. 

Hopefully, you didn’t mess things up by doing that. 

You don’t hear from Sean for several days. And it’s making you nervous. Had you overstepped your boundaries? Had you misread the signs from all your little coffee outings? 

The book in front of you failed to hold your attention as you glanced from the words on the page to the cellular device next to you. After another thirty minutes, just when you were about to give up on reading, your phone buzzed. 

Buzz… buzz buzz… buzz buzz…

The book was hastily bookmarked, and you scooped up the phone and swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?” You said, trying to seem… well… not breathless or like you were anticipating the call. 

“Are you busy?” Sean asks, sounding ragged as if he had been working for three days straight. 

His new promotion must be wearing him down.

“I was just reading. Is everything okay?” You ask and hear a quiet hum on the other end.

“Might I invite you to dinner tonight?” Your heart skips a beat. 

Dinner… that was a step up from coffee dates. 

A big step up. 

You make a noise to let him know you hadn’t died at the suggestion (though you certainly felt like you were about to pass out).

“I suppose I might be free tonight. Let's say we eat at seven o’clock?” You tease him gently and hear him write something down. 

“I’ll pick you up.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. 

“That sounds lovely.” 

VIOLENCE STARTS HERE

Dinner doesn’t go as planned. 

Sean’s car rumbles as he waits for you to come out of your hotel room. He had offered to let you stay with him at his new house; he had a spare bedroom after all, but you had declined. Instead, you had told him you were a big kid and could take care of yourself. 

A shadow moved inside your hotel room on the second floor, and he looked up, a frown pulling his lips down. What was taking you so long? You hadn’t even responded to his text saying he had arrived. Should he call you? 

He pulls up your contact and is about to press the call button when you come exploding through the window in a rain of glass and chaos. 

Coincidentally, you land on the hood of his car, and his airbags deploy as you cave in the metal.

There’s someone on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck and squeezing like your life depended on it. He can see your hands going limp, and he darts from his car and draws his gun that he keeps with him at all times. 

“PORTLAND PD! DON’T MOVE!” He bellows, and the person jerks their head up to look at him, eyes wild and glowing yellow. 

A Mauvais Dentes.

The sabertoothed wesen leaped at him as he felt his face change in his woge. 

He fired. 

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The man fell, his woge rippling across his skin and retracting the fangs and fur into his body until he looked like a regular man again. 

Sean ran to your side, where you lay gasping on top of his car, pulling out his phone and dialing 911 as he went. 

“911, what’s the location of your emergency?” 

“This is Captain Sean Renard of the Portland Police Department. There’s a man who’s been killed and someone else who is gravely injured.” He started and rattled off your address, begging first responders to hurry because you looked terrible. 

You had been in the middle of getting ready—a blouse stained in blood and shredded to bits, trousers, and you weren’t wearing shoes. Your throat isn’t much better. Sean can see where the Mauvais Denetes had punctured your skin, and its oozing blood at a sluggish pace. Your woge ripples under your skin and the tar-black feathers retract into your face. Your beak disappears, and when you open your eyes, they’re glassy. 

“Stay with me, little bird, stay with me.” He says as he sheds his suit coat and tears it into strips to tie around your wound to hopefully staunch the bleeding. 

“Sean?” You gurgle, and he hushes you,

“Don’t speak. An ambulance is on the way.” He says, and you nod once, closing your eyes again, and he listens to your breathing. 

It doesn’t sound good. 

He only hopes that you make it to the hospital.

Time slows. The ambulance and police arrive after what feels like hours. Blood has stained Sean’s trousers, but he doesn’t care. All that matters is you. 

The first responders load you carefully into the ambulance and stop Sean before he can get in with you. 

“I’m riding with them.” He snarled, and the two workers looked at each other before one stepped aside and allowed him to sit beside you. He holds your hand until they hook you up to get your vitals. You open your eyes again and wheeze,

“Sean?” You gasp, and he holds your grasping fingers.

“I’m here, little bird.” He whispers, and his heart is broken as he hears you whimper. 

“Don’t leave me.” You whimper, and he stands as the ambulance rumbles into motion and presses a kiss to your forehead,

“Never.” He says and knows deep in his soul that he means it. 

Because he loves you too much to let you go.

[all-i-do-is-live-in-daydreams]

I love Monroe a lot like, he's a reformed blutbad, he probs used to be a bit of a bad guy, but meeting him you wouldn't ever know cuz he's a vegetarian clockmaker, who does pilates in the morning and wears cardigans and plaid button ups and drives around in a cute yellow bug volkswagen, can't forget his love for classical music and his talent at playing the cello, and then OFC there's his giant love for christmas. He will go all out in decorating the inside of his house. He has a big train set that takes up almost his entire living room during Christmas time.

Also pretty sure he has extensive knowledge on trains as well. Actually he has extensive knowledge on a lot of things, random things you probs wouldn't expect. Like he's just, I love him sm. Monroe is everything to me. 😭

[fourteendaysinaweek]

Nick: Renard, my arch enemy

Black Claw: I thought we were your arch enemy

Nick: I have a life outside of you

[gravesbf]

GENERAL RELATIONSHIP HCS !

characters: nick , monroe , renard

@sarahs-secrets2 this is for us fr 🗣

nick burkhardt:

☆ it's a little confused all the time but he gets the spirit !!! unconditionally supportive of everything even if he makes casual banter and jokes abt it

☆ tries to cook for you whenever he has the chance after work, it rarely works out though because he can't cook 💔 but it's the thought that counts

☆ lets you wear his leather jacket all the time, he complains abt not having it at work when it's cold but he'd rather him be cold instead of you being cold when he could've prevented it

☆ takes you to the trailer surprisingly often, it becomes sort of a safe haven for him as only him, monroe, and you know abt it. he likes rereading the books while you find new hidey holes

monroe:

☆ your own personal heater fr ‼️ blutbaden run on a higher temp than the avg human so he's always warm and toasty even when it's cold out

☆ he loves giving gifts, he's always fixing up antique and vintage clocks that remind him of you (which happens to be a lot of the clocks). he even makes a couple of pocket watches for you to always have w your person

☆ can actually cook, granted it's vegetarian and even sometimes vegan but it's the good vegan food. he's always looking to try new recipes from pinterest bc he's an avid pinterest user

☆ plays the cello when you're having trouble sleeping, he's always happy and eager to help so he ends up having the cello by the bed along with sheet music of lullabies

sean renard:

☆ SUGAR DADDY TO THE MAX 🗣‼️‼️ he's always buying and spoiling you w random shit that you glanced at while walking around. even gives you a credit card that is automatically paid for

☆ doesn't necessarily talk or name-drop you to any of his family or the precinct, but it is well known (at least to the precinct) that he's taken

☆ has people waiting on you hand and foot, you basically get the royalty treatment without the fame and danger of it. he still does heavy background and monitors the people though without them knowing

☆ only allows himself to relax around you, while it's not fully relaxed it's as relaxed as renard can be. he lets you hold him occasionally but mostly it's him holding you to his chest protectively

[theo-files]

juliette: she was telling me some pretty funny stories about when you were little.

nick: ah, dead frog in the microwave?

[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

[snakefell]

renard brooding in his office while everyone else is Going Through It:

[rebelliousstories]

Tidal Wave

Relationship: Nick Burkhardt x Reader (Platonic), Monroe x Reader (Platonic)

Fandom: Grimm

Request: No

Warnings: Brief Strong Language, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 5,743

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Part 2: Hearts of Sea Stone

Summary: When a series of suspicious drowning show up in Portland, Nick Burkhardt is called in to investigate a naiad. He quickly finds out there is more to his tale than he knows.

“But they hurt me so,” said the little mermaid.

“Pride must suffer pain,” replied the old lady.”

“Vic’s name was Jason Aquati. Water made it difficult to get his wallet out safely without damaging the contents but we made it happen.” Sergeant Wu passed the wallet over to the two detectives that had just arrived. Nick Burkhardt and Hank Griffin made their way from the car to where the CSU were busy processing the scene.

“Another drowning victim in the Willamette in the last week? Seems like this guy is just getting started.” Hank commented on the scene, dropping himself into a crouch in front of the body. He was utterly puzzled by this string of murders they had gotten.

“Well, lets see who next of kin is, business, the works. There’s gotta be something that connects him to the last one. This is just too specific.” Nick added on, pausing to observe the pale watery body that was left there. Something odd caught his eye. Something in his hand. Grabbing a glove, not bothering to put it on properly, Nick gently moved the hand around till he caught a clear look of what he was hold.

“Can I get a baggie please?” The detective called to no one in particular. His eyes followed the object that was now resting on his glove. Nick felt his partner come to look over his shoulder and hand him the evidence bag.

“What is that?” Griffin questioned, watching his partner drop the small object into the bag and seal it up. Burkhardt stood to match the other man, and their eyes were both trained on the bag.

“I have no clue.” A small stone rested amongst the plastic. To the untrained eye, it looked like a regular stone, but one of these men had the eyes to see the unimaginable. He saw the swirl of blue inside, a pale brilliant blue, that quickly died out. Nick’s eyes went back from the stone, to the man before them, trying desperately to find out how these two were connected.

~

The precinct was as busy and bustling as ever. There was so much excess noise and chatter that threatened to pulled Nick away from his screen; he was almost about to tell the entire building to be quiet just so that he could work. But that would not happen, and he knew that.

“Hey Nick, check this out.” The excess noise was cut out and Hank’s voice came to him sharply. Getting up from his chair, the detective walked over and peered at the screen before him. After being here for so long, the bright screen and small dark letters blurred together.

“Alright. What am I looking at?” His hands rested on the table and back of his partner’s chair, trying desperately to make sense of what was on the screen.

“That stone we found in the guys hand today? Well, I thought since the guy last week also had a similar looking stone in his possession that I would have them tested. Listen to this: it is aquamarine. A type of sea blue to greenish stone.” Hank rattled off happily.

“Okay. So we know what type of stone it is. How does this help us?” A headache was starting to worm its way into Burkhardt’s head, and he could do without the small talk.

“Well, here’s the thing. Inside the stone, there was a foreign substance. Initial results were inconclusive because they were quote, ‘fish scales with human DNA.’ That’s weird right?” Nick was trying to rack his brain for knowledge that would explain the foreign substance in the gemstone.

“Very weird. Listen,” he cleared his throat, “I’m gonna head home. I don’t think I can look at another screen tonight. Goodnight Hank. Go get some sleep.” Nick patted his friend on the shoulder, and collected his coat before leaving.

On the drive home, many thoughts plagued his mind. Was there a type of wesen that preferred to have those kinds of gems? Or a particular type of water wesen that he should be looking for? Dinner and Juliette would have to wait. First, Nick needed to make a detour.

His car pulled into the driveway of Monroe’s humble abode, shutting off the engine and sitting there for a moment. Nick searched his car for a drink and some painkillers but found none. This headache was getting worse. Maybe his friend had some inside? Hopefully he did, otherwise his drive home was going to be a lot worse. The detective did not realize that he was already at the door and knocked before he heard a muffled voice calling out for, “just a moment.”

“Nick, hey buddy. What brings you by at this time of night? Shouldn’t you be home?” The taller blutbad moved out of the way to allow the Grimm into his home, but was confused at Nick’s uncharacteristic quietness.

“You okay, Nick?” Monroe asked, starting to be concerned.

“Do you have any painkillers? I’m sorry. Just got this nasty headache and I don’t have anything.” Nick scrubbed his hand over his face, pinched his eyes shut, and let out the deepest breath he could to try and muster through the pain.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got some. Come here.” Going into the kitchen, the detective smelt and saw the remains of dinner. It reminded him of his girlfriend that was at home right now, waiting up for him so that she could make him a hot plate.

“Thanks Monroe. I’m sorry to impose like this on you.” The wesen waved off the concerns as he was shaking his head, still rummaging through the cabinets for something to ease his friend’s pain.

“Don’t worry about it man. I don’t have anything traditional. Well, no. It is traditional, but it’s not modern medicine. Ah! Here it is.” Monroe pulled a jar from his cupboards, with something in German written on the label. Taking a teaspoon, he put a single spoonful of the contents of the jar in a mug. It was then that Nick noticed the kettle heating up on the stove, and watched as his friend poured scalding water over the mystery powder. Was it even a powder? It looked more like tea.

“Give it just a few minutes to steep and cool down. After that, bottoms up.” Monroe looked pleased with himself, but Nick was just confused.

“What is it?” He questioned, looking between the other man and mug with uncertainty.

“Alles Heilen. It’s a type of ‘cure all.’ My grandmother used to make me that anytime I had any sort of internal ailment. Headaches, flu, stomach aches. She even made me drink it one time to help flush out some poisonous berries I had accidentally eaten. It’s really good stuff.” Nick sniffed the mug, and took a small test sip to test temperature and taste before he took a more proper drink.

“So I’m assuming you didn’t just pop over here for a German style medicine for your headache?” Monroe asked, watching the man before him he appeared to finally have some sort of relief as he rubbed his temples.

“No.” Nick stated plainly. “What kind of wesen are part fish, or really love water?”

“Whoa. Okay. Not what I was expecting. Um, I’m not sure. The only ones that are coming up are naiades but they’re only fish in the sense that I am a wolf. It’s not enough to classify or anything like that. Why do you ask?” Now, he was confused.

“There’s a series of homicides I’m investigating. Both bodies were holding an aquamarine stone that held fish and human DNA inside. It sounds like something weird enough to be wesen.” Nick stared off into a blank spot of the kitchen as he let the tea, if that is what you could call it, take effect.

“Aquamarine and weird DNA? Have you consulted your books?” Leaning against the counter, Monroe watched Burkhardt closely. However, the man just shook his head.

“No, I haven’t. I thought you might point me in the right direction.” They sat in silence for a moment, just letting the day take its toll.

“Hey,” Monroe gained Nick’s attention yet again, “maybe Rosalee knows what you should be looking for. Why don’t you give her a call in the morning?” A nod was given by the Grimm, who finished the contents of his cup, and made to leave the home of the blutbad.

“Yeah. I think I will. Thanks for your help, Monroe.” The gentlemen shook hands, and went to go for the door.

“Anytime, Nick.” Watching from his front door, Monroe could not help but feel like this was just going to get worse for Nick if he could not find out what it was that he was looking for. Nothing can cause insanity quite like searching for something that you do not know where to start.

~

Rosalee flitted around the shop, pulling volumes upon volumes of knowledge from her shelves. Her face looked upset, which did not bode well with Grimm in her shop.

“I’m sorry, Nick. I can’t find anything that would explain what you found in that stone. Do you know what kind of wesen was holding it?” Her face scrunched up in confusion and worry.

“No,” the detective shook his head and threw his hands up in the air, “I don’t even know if the guy was wesen.” He was getting more and more frustrated as time went on. His gut told him that this was a wesen case, but Nick could not find anything to prove it.

“Okay. What were the victims names? Maybe I can find out for you.” A pad of paper and pen appeared in the Fuchsbau’s hands as she prepared to jot down the names.

“First vic was Stacie Wesser. She was a spa owner downtown, and the second was Jason Aquati. He was studying to be a marine biologist at the Oregon Institute of Marine Biologist.” After she wrote down those names, Rosalee took a pause. She let out a shaky breath, and her expressive face revealed pain.

“Are you sure it was them?” Her whisper came.

“Positive ID on both. Did you know them?” Nick was concerned and approached the woman in front of him. A tear managed to escape her eye that she rubbed away fiercely.

“Yeah. I knew them. Stacie came to me for specialty items for her shop, and James for a specific cream to use.” Burkhardt got out his pen and paper to jot some of this down.

“What else could you tell me? Is there any way that these two knew each other?” While he was busy writing the information, Rosalee tried to rack her brain.

“It’s possible that they may have interacted in her spa, but now that I think about it, they both mentioned going to see a show recently. The same one even though they weren’t in here at the same time.” Nick’s head perked up immediately at this information.

“What show was this?” She looked nervous now. Rosalee wrote a name on the piece of paper and tore it off.

“Take Monroe with you. It’s not exactly a place you would be welcome in.” The man nodded and graciously accepted the piece of paper. However, just then, Nick’s phone rang. Pulling it out, he barely had time to check caller ID before answering.

“Yeah, Burkhardt. Okay. Alright. I’m there in ten.” He hung up the phone as quickly as he answered it. Turning back to the woman, he stashed the paper in his pocket and gave her a nod of thanks, before exiting underneath the chiming bell.

~

“Another body. This guys cooling off period is shrinking drastically.” Hank met up with Nick once he arrived on scene.

“What have we got?” He asked his friend, and was brought over to the body.

“Name was Stephen Matthews. Forty-four, never married, no children. Works at the Portland animal facility. This now makes the third body. This guys has gone serial.” Griffin walked near his parter towards the victim, and pulled a baggie from another officers hands.

“Found another stone in his hands. If I had to guess, it’s the same one as the

others.” Everyone was puzzled in this case.

“You know, drowning is not the easiest way to kill someone. Guns, knives, even bare knuckles work better than drowning. So why has he chosen this method?” Nick posed the question that no one answered. The sound of a car approaching, and subsequent opening and closing of the door caught the attention of everyone there. Their captain had just arrived on scene.

“This the same killer?” He asked, hands resting on his hips as he looked at the scene.

“We believe so, Captain.” Nick informed him, walking up and standing close by. A second set of eyes locked onto the bag in the young detective’s hands.

“What’s that?” He questioned, holding out his hands to accept the item.

“It’s a stone. Two similar ones were found on the other two bodies. It’s aquamarine but the forensic report shows human and fish DNA inside it. So we have no clue what we’re looking at.” Sean’s eyes stayed locked intensely on the stone in the bag that was no bigger than a quarter. He could hear Nick talking but his mine traveled back in time. Back to when he was young and had just arrived in Oregon. Back to when he had met her and-

“Captain?” The hand on his shoulder startled Renard out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat and handed the evidence bag back to his detective.

“Good job, Nick. Keep it up. I want this guy found before he can kill anyone else.” And with that, he left. No more words spoken, no more updates needed. Burkhardt turned back to the stone in hand. What was it about this stone?

~

That night, Nick called up Monroe and asked if he would accompany him to the place that Rosalee had written down on the piece of paper in his pocket. The blutbad was more than willing to tag along and made sure to tell Nick about it on the way there. They made sure to park nearby, and on the walk over to the front door, Monroe would not shut up about the place.

“Dude, this is like an amazing club. Well, not really a club as in you know techno and partying. More like a supper club or a lounge. There is just this energy in there. It’s wonderful. Really takes you back in time to a much simpler life.” The nondescript black door with the name on the front would be able to be overlooked by a normal person, unless you knew what you were looking for.

“So this is, what? A speakeasy?” Nick continued to walked forward as Monroe seemed to have a revelation in the middle of the street.

“Yeah. Yeah it is. I never thought of it like that.” The closer they got to the door, the more Nick’s nerves were lighting up. He hoped that whatever he needed to solve this case was in this place.

Getting inside was no issue. Just a check for ID, pay a cover fee, and they were there. The lights of the stage were dark, while the ambient lighting was brighter. A poster caught Nick’s eyes that was plaster on just about every surface in the building.

Hometown Performances by the Portland Princess, Sirena!

The picture of the woman caused him to pause. She was obviously gorgeous, but there was a certain, almost mythical, quality to her appearance. Burkhardt felt someone come up behind him, and a hand laid itself on his shoulder.

“Oh yes! Sirena is in town. She’s amazing. Kind of a legend in our world.” Monroe gushed. Just then, the lights in the room dimmed, and the lights on stage went completely black. Whoops and cheers came from all around, and Nick saw many different kinds of wesen woge throughout the room.

A singular spotlight lit up the stage, and the woman from the poster stood in front of the microphone. Monroe was right; this really felt like a portal to a different time. Old timey microphone, and the woman was decked out in old Hollywood fashion. Listening to her sing, it felt like a trance. She interacted with the crowd and seemed to make up songs on the spot, or at least it seemed improvised.

She worked her way through the front row and had everyone hanging off of her every word. It was unlike anything Nick had seen, even in human clubs. This was totally different. Probably like most thing in the wesen world, this seemed to be steeped in tradition. Unlike, however, the last time he was in a club like this, the woman in stage paid no attention to him, and never realized that there was a Grimm in the audience watching her.

Singing her final note, Nick did not realize that she was signing off and saying goodnight until the spotlight died and the lights returned to how they were before.

“Monroe, what is she?” He asked his friend who seemed to be in a daze from the performance.

“She’s perfect.” Nick shook the blutbad from his thoughts. “Oh, right sorry. She’s a naiad. She might know who to look for.” Monroe was hauled to his feet and dragged through the club towards the back.

“Sorry. Sirena is not doing a meet and greet at the moment.” A tall, brunette man stopped the duo before they got too far into the back. Nick hated to do it, but he whipped out his badge for the man to see.

“I need to speak with her. She might have insight on an investigation.” The man scrutinized the badge he held, but eventually let him pass through with Monroe. A door with “Sirena” plastered across the front was the third door on the left side of the hallway the traveled down. Nick knocked loudly, and waited for a response.

“Just a second.” A soft and sweet voice called out from behind the door. Just a moment later, the door opened a little bit, and the same woman from the stage appeared a little bit more relaxed. As soon as she saw Monroe’s face, though, her weariness faded away.

“Roe! I didn’t know you’d be coming. I hope you have brought Rosalee.” Her voice did not lose any of the dreaminess as it picked up in volume.

“Can we come in? Please?” He asked, looking behind him at the Grimm. she nodded and moved out of the way to allow the pair into the room. Only, she did not realize that it was not Rosalee behind Monroe. Once the men stepped in, it was exactly 3.5 seconds for her entire demeanor to change. She squeaked and pressed herself as close to the door as she could. Monroe pushed Nick to the other side of the room as he tried to calm the woman down.

“You… you brought a Grimm here. You sold me, Monroe! How could you? What did I do?” She wailed and wailed, trying to keep the blutbad just as far away from her as the Grimm was, but he ignored the shoves and hitting.

“No. No, Si. He’s not like that. This is Detective Nick Burkhardt with the Portland Police Department. He’s not like the other one. He just wants to ask some questions. Please. I wouldn’t sell you like that.” Her panicked eyes shifted from the man in front of her to the man behind him, and back again. She finally started getting her breathing under control to where she could talk again.

“Just ask some questions?” It almost sounded like a whimper as she stared Nick down. He kept his hands out of his pockets so as to try and make her realize that he meant her no harm.

“Just some questions. If that’s okay. Monroe can stay the whole time.” Unshed tears collected amongst her lash line while she nodded her agreement. Her hands went to her eyes in pain and she bent over a basin of water in the room. What came out as a tear drop, landed in the water as a fully formed stone. Taking a moment to collect herself, she fixed her eye makeup, dabbed her eyes and turned back to the men.

“My apologizes. I try not to cry on land for that reason.” Her voice was soft and sweet, just as before, but her eyes stayed trained on the Grimm.

“It’s okay. Are those aquamarine?” He was instantly curious at the glittering bowl.

“Yes, they are. How did you know that?” Now, the singer was curious. She had yet to lose the edge that she was trembling on.

“We found three identical stones at three separate homicide scenes. Now, I’m not asking as a cop. What are you?” That Grimm stare scared the young woman. The pitch blackness of his eyes made her tremble and lose her facade for a second. In an instant, a silky sheen encompassed her entire body. Blueish-green scales shone in the lights of the vanity, and gills appeared at the side of her neck. Vibrant, electric blue eyes pierced his, and the almost doe-eyed quality she had taken was interesting to him.

“I’m not a normal naiad. I’m what they refer to as a Tödlicheslied.” Her woge state stayed as she explain.

“Are you serious?” Monroe piped up for the first time in a while. His eyes looked like he was a kid in a candy store.

“You’re- you’re a, a Tödlicheslied? I’ve only heard stories about you. I didn’t think you guys existed anymore.” The blutbad continued to look at the young lady, not as if he was judging her, but in disbelief.

“Tödlicheslied? What does that mean?” Nick asked, allowing his eyes to stray from the woman for a moment to turn to his friend.

“Literally translate to, ‘Deadly Song.’ They were the original sirens. An ancient breed of naiads. You Grimms might be a boogeyman tale to us wesen, but these guys? These are pure legend. They’re believed to be extinct. How are you out of the water?” Monroe explained, finally letting the information process. Burkhardt turned back to the woman and looked confused.

“My people usually don’t leave the water. We’re a rare, ancient breed of wesen like Roe said. Leaving the water for us is painful and can sometimes cause death where we literally suffocate. In our aquatic state, we behave like any other marine life. Oxygen in the water passes over our gills,” she motioned to her own with a webbed hand, “and that’s how we breath. But coming out of the water, we have difficulty turning back to our human form because we completely change our organs and structure.” Well, this was surprising to Nick. Just when he thought that his life could not get any weirder.

“We drink a tonic that helps, but it’s super specific. Only a few people know how to make it.” This was going to make for an interesting new addition to his book.

“Do you have an alibi for the past two nights and for last Friday?” Her body returned to normal, the half woge leaving her and allowing her to appear perfectly normal.

“The past two nights I’ve been here and haven’t been anywhere other than my hotel. Last Friday, I believe I found a late night bookstore to go to after the show. I’m unsure if that place has cameras, but I know my hotel does.” The detective took in her words and allowed himself to look around. There was a picture on the vanity, with a necklace draped atop it. The pictures were in black and white, but he knew that face. There was no way he could forget that face. Standing, Nick went to the vanity and attempted to grab the photo to get a better look when a hand slapped his. Rubbing the now stinging hand, he looked and saw pain and fury in the woman’s eyes.

“Apologies. I just don’t like people touching my stuff.” She did not look the least bit sorry, but that was neither here nor there.

“Would you be willing to come down to the station while we confirm your alibi? Just as a precaution, plus it makes it easier for us to get information.” Nick turned his full body to the young lady before him. She was only dressed in a silk robe, long hair flowing down in waves. However, she nodded.

“Would you allow me to get changed into something presentable? I’d much rather not be out there in just my robe.” Shifting from foot to foot, her hands wrung themselves together in front.

“Of course. Take however long you need.” Nick turned his body away from the young woman and stared at the wall, while he encouraged Monroe to do the same. And by encourage, he means that he slapped the man on the arm and made him turn away from the dressing window in the corner of the room. She disappeared behind the makeshift wall that was set up, and tried to put herself in normal clothing as quickly as possible. There was some rustling, and a couple of knocks as she finagled her way around. However, she was soon on her way out with her shoes in hand.

“You can turn back now. I appreciate you doing that.” It was almost a whisper as she sat down on the stool in front of her vanity to take care of her shoes. The men followed her request and waited patiently for her to be done.

Once the shoes were on, her attention was turned to the jewelry on the table and in the dishes before her. Rings found their place on her delicate fingers. Much less flashy and large than what she wore on stage, but none the less high quality. Nick had a sneaking suspicion that everything she wore was pure silver and built to last. However the one piece of gold that was present on the table, was the necklace draped across the picture frame. There was a pause as her hands faltered to reach for the object, but eventually, she was able to grasp it. Her expression was sullen, as if relieving a specific memory that she wish she could have forgotten. But, that necklace, with a heart shaped locket and several rings found its way to her neck. The one piece of gold clashing against the silver, including a secondary silver necklace that looked identical to the gold one.

“Ready to go.” The wesen took a deep breath and spun around. Grabbing a long, wool coat, she headed for the door and allowed the men to leave first before she locked the door to her dressing room. Leading them out of the building, Ashe stopped only for a moment to chat with her security guards and owner of the venue to let them know where she was going and that she would be back late.

Nick held the backseat door open for her, and offered a hand to help her up into the vehicle. He tucked her coat in to make sure it would not be caught in the door, and made his way to the driver’s door. Checking that everyone was buckled in and secure, he began the journey away from the club.

“Just gonna drop Monroe off first and then we’ll head to the station. Is that okay?” Burkhardt kept an eye on the siren in his back seat. She nodded, yet said nothing. It was silent. Eerily silent the entire drive back to the spice shop. Thankfully, it was not that long of a car ride so Nick was just hoping that maybe he could get some answers at some point tonight. It seemed the spice shop was even closer than he realized, or maybe it was the zoning out and trying to pass the time faster with no noise. But he shook hands with Monroe, and unlocked the car to let him out.

“Stay safe, Si. Okay?” The blutbad tried to comfort the tödlicheslied in the backseat. She smiled genuinely at her friend and nodded.

“I will try. Come out to the show soon with Rosalee please? I’ll get you guys in for free. We can go have dinner.” Her offer made the man smile.

“You got a deal. See ya kids.” And then there were two. Wesen and Grimm just driving down to the police station. Nothing weird about this on a Friday evening. No one made a move to speak, leaving the care in the same eerie silence from before.

“Can I ask about the picture and locket?” Nick broke it. Her startled expression almost made the detective retract his statement, but she relaxed soon after.

“What do you want to know about it?” Her gaze turned out the window, like she could not look at the Grimm while discussing this.

“Who’s the man that is in them?” He was curious about the answer she was going to give him.

“He’s dead.” The red light ahead had excellent timing, allowing for Nick to turn his head around in shock to stare directly at her face. She tried to reign in her emotions, but Nick could see tears threatening to fall. He handed her a set of tissues that were still in the car, and turned back to the now green light.

“How?” His choked whisper came. There was a deep sigh that was released from the backseat.

“For me to tell you this, there’s a lot you need to know first.” A beat of silence.

“Tödlicheslieden don’t come on to the surface ever. Well, almost never. The last time someone lived to tell about us was Christopher Columbus. Although we were swimming with the manatees so who knows what those stories were inspired by.’

‘Our family never allowed the children near the surface alone. They would only take us near there when we needed to eat. Unfortunately, that part of siren lore is true. However, one day I was near the surface and was caught in a rip current. It pulled me so far away, I didn’t know where I was going or even what direction I came from. When I came to, I was washed up on shore along the Willamette trying desperately to breathe.” A small smile appeared on her face as the story continued.

“There was a young man along the shore who found me. He helped me through the change to a human like state. I was so scared,” she chuckled, “but, he just draped his coat over me, and spoke soft and slowly.” Her hands now fiddled with the necklaces.

“Come to find out he was a zauberbiest. Imagine my shock. But he proved to care about me and my well being so I trusted him. He used to take me out, every night, to the river to see if my family was close. After a full lunar cycle though, we stuck to once a month. On the full moon, when the tide is highest and light is brightest. He did everything he could to make sure that I was taken care of. Gave me clothing, showed me a human store to shop in, what tonics to take and when. He was the first person to find out about my tears.” Nick stayed silent throughout the entire story.

“After twelve lunar cycles, I begun to accept my surface life and the possibility that I would never see my family again. And we fell in love. That was a big no-no, even back then. But we didn’t care. It was us against the world it seemed. He made us these necklaces so we would never be apart.” The locket open underneath her delicate touch, and she was lost in a trance.

“But, nothing lasts forever. My family did eventually find me, and they tried to convince me to come back to our pod. But I couldn’t leave my lover behind. When I asked for time on my decision, they came after us as we sat near the water. They dragged me underneath, and made me,” her voice choked, “they made me listen.”

“Listen to what, Sirena?” Nick questioned with profound empathy for the woman who could not have been much older than him.

“Please, Sirena is a stage name. It’s easier to hide in plain sight when no one knows your true name.” She chuckled out, trying desperately to not cry.

“They made me listen as they beat him to death.” Her statement jarred Nick a bit in his seat. They were not too much further from the precinct, but he hoped the story would have something for him to work with.

“I had to listen to his grunts, groans, and cries. It was too silent after. They brought me this as proof,” her hand held up the gold chain with a matching locket on it, “I knew he would have never let them take it off of him had he been alive. It was another twenty-four lunar cycles before I managed to get away for good. I came back to the Willamette, back to Portland. I tried so hard to find an obituary or anything that would tell me where he was buried or something, but I have yet to find anything in almost twenty years.” Nick parked his truck, and jump out to help the lady out of the car. With her hand in his, he stayed at the vehicle for a moment more.

“What was his name?” She was confused, but her eyes appeared haunted. “What’s his name? If I have a name, I can look him up in our database and give you a definitive answer.”

There was a deep sigh, allowing for a lengthy pause. A Grimm and a wesen stood out in the cold Portland air. Her head moved side to side in a negative motion, and her eyes suddenly found the ground much more interesting to look at than the man in front of her. She was trying to reign in her emotions and keep from crying out in the freezing air. After whaat seemed to be an eternity, her misty eyes went to Nick’s as she had her internal struggle.

“His name was Sean. Sean Renard.”