Fanfic Grimm: Cookie Monster: Monroe: G
Mar. 15th, 2012 07:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Cookie Monster
Author: captain91
Fandom: Grimm
Character/Pairing:
Beta: Dar
Rating: G
Word count: 856
Prompt: 13 Red
Summary: All
A/N: This was my first attempt at a piece of Grimm fan fiction, which I entered into grimm_challenge and came second place! I also got a lovely shiny banner!
100_tales challenge under the prompt red
I picked up my smallest tweezers, reaching into the depths of the clock. Such an antique I rarely saw - it must be several centuries old, of European make, and still in perfect working order. That was – ugh, my hand slipped. The doorbell, stupid modern technology always interrupting. Maybe if I ignored them they’d just go away.
I adjusted my magnifier, reaching in past the minuscule cogs and wheels, to pull the pieces of sawdust out one by one. Honestly, who’d leave a masterpiece like this out during building work? It could have been ruined!
Grrrrr Go The Hell Away! The ringing bell snapped me out of my concentration. And disturbed it. The inner Blutbad surged forward, trying to break to the surface. I wrestled with the feral energy and forced it back down. God I need to do my pilates.
I looked down at the dismantled clock, sighing; I guess I had to deal with this. I sniffed the air, the Blutbad pawing, begging to be let free. I restrained it yet again. It wasn’t Nick at the door, he knew better than to come this early anyway. It wasn’t a Creature either.
AARRRGGGGHHHHHH. I jumped, hand flicking a cog out of the works, it flipping out of sight. Did they have to hold that button down so bloody long! I took a deep breath, looking longingly in the direction the cog went. If it had been damaged…
I span my chair around, what else could I do? I stood, bones creaking, head down. Behave, don’t make a scene, I cautioned the Creature. Engaging with humans was always iffy if I hadn’t been through my ritual. Then again, who the hell would come to my house at this hour? It was barely past seven.
I placed my hand on the door handle, the Blutbad sniffing once more, looking for a reason to come out. I shackled it inside and just hoped it stayed – Nick’s habit of turning up covered in blood lately overexcited it. I opened the door, looking up, ready to turn my intruders away.
Huh? Where were they? My nose twitched.
“Hi there, I’m from the local middle school,” perked a voice. I looked down, dread settling in my stomach as the Creature climbed. A kid. Two kids; one in red! “We’re selling cookies to raise funds for our schools…”
The voices faded into the background. The Blutbad roared, my hold on it weakening. Red. Red, red, red, Red RED!!!!!
Shut up! I screamed back.
Red! So small, so tender. Red! Flesh ripping, blood leaking out of my mouth, so sweet, so tasty. Fabric shredding effortlessly in my claws as blood-drowning gurgles left the body. So free, so effortless.
NO! I snapped myself back to the present, wiping saliva from my mouth on my cardigan sleeve. The girls, they were still there, just looking at me. On my doorstep. So easy to pull inside. NO! I forced the Blutbad down, I had to get these girls gone fast.
“Are you ok, Sir?” asked one bright-eyed concerned victim. Not victim, child, I hastily corrected. “The boxes come in various sizes, we also do sugar free. The tastiest cookies ever,
Invite them in, you can eat at your leisure. Think! Blood running over that pale smooth skin, so soft against –
No, never again. That’s the past! I screamed at the unrelenting Creature, begging it to go away. I tried so hard, every day, why couldn’t it just give me some space? I had to get rid of the girls, fast, I was losing control.
I grabbed my wallet, only vaguely hearing the high-pitched chatter of the children. I grabbed all the bills I had, the Creature clawing at my throat, almost free, my eyes changing against my will. “Here,” I yelled, strain contorting my face as I shoved my money at them, “just give me a mixture, whatever you have. Deliver them later!”
I slammed the door, leaning against it, panting hard, cutting off their excited squeals. I closed my eyes, taking deep calming breaths, the hairs on my face becoming finer and receding, the Blutbad withdrawing to its cage. Finally, finally, I could lock the cage, get it down to a whisper. I regained control.
I relaxed with pilates, aware I needed greater control for when they returned. Finally I got back to cleaning out my clock, making a pile of sawdust and fluff on the table. I fitted the cog back in place. Life was back in order.
I leapt in my seat, back twinging at the movement. who the hell devised all these infernal noisy devices? I bemoaned as my phone rang shrilly. I snarled, snatching the phone, checking the called ID. Nick. I paused, checking the Blutbad once more, secure despite its protests.
“Hi Nick. How are things here? The usual, just relaxing,” I lied. He might be becoming a friend but he was a Grimm first. Maybe I could donate the cookies to the police department.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-17 07:29 am (UTC)Monroe's inner Blutbad clearly hasn't been fed lately...too much pilates and not enough chocolate cake?
this was a terrific fic. bravo!
no subject
Date: 2012-03-17 09:39 am (UTC)Monroe seems really set on routine, especially in the early episodes, I wanted to see what would happen when it was interrupted!
I think he'd rather buy $1000 of cookies than have to explain to a certain Grimm why there's bit's of a school girl scattered around his house lol
no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 02:47 am (UTC)is it just me, or has he not been doing as much with clocks in the last few (dozen?) episodes?
>I think he'd rather buy $1000 of cookies than have to explain to a certain Grimm why there's bit's of a school girl scattered around his house lol
"It's holiday decorations."
"Holiday?" Nick asked.
"Wesen holiday."
"Well, they're certainly lifelike ornamentations."
(because when has he ever doubted Monroe?) ;)
no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 04:43 am (UTC)I set this some time in early season 1, but I actually think Monroe has even less restraint recently, with all the times Nick has taken him into bloody situations. If a little girl in red came along during one of those I think there'd be trouble.
The more I think on the situation the more I want t write about it. Part of me wants him to get really hacked off at Nick (you knoe, red clothes, being blood covered, maybe killing one of Monroe's family who drops into town etc) and lose control and attack him. The problem there is I'd like them to reconcile at the end. I think slash would be the best for that, but I'd have to write fade to black if i did.
And I hope you don't mind I friended you back
no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 05:32 am (UTC)reconciling doesn't have to have sex...regardless of how much wariness they'd have of one another even if bygones are bygones. (it's the writer's choice, of course, on both topics)
Now you've set me to wondering...would Nick's reaction depend on if Monroe (kidnapped/whatever) the red-wearing (girl/woman) while Monroe was man-faced or blutbad-faced?
the Blutbad baddie in the pilot ep, after all, seemed to do it while man-faced; while Monroe's saying that the Grimm Stories were by those who were Wesen-faced at the time.
mind? I'm glad; thank you.