Nick

I hunt Wesen. Renard took me in when my parents were murdered and taught me everything he knows. It's not enough. I kill things so other people won't have to die. "The prince cut the heart, still-beating, from the monster's chest. He swallowed down the pieces of burning flesh, taking it into himself, the monster's knowledge and power. That was how the first of the Grimms came to be." King of the Squidlets. Etc. [[Independent RP/fic blog for an AU version of Nick Burkhardt from Grimm. NSFW.]]

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick raises his eyebrows and reaches for the bag if supplies. “If we are lucky Juliette might have some medical tape in here. She used it to tend a pretty bad kitchen accident once,” he says, rummaging through the stuff. “How would you stitch up your own back anyway.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya grins, wolfish. “In a mirror.”

He turns his head to return a reflection of Nick’s raised eyebrow. “A kitchen accident? Did you lose your grip on a knife and cut your hand open?” Snickering a little, he reaches out a foot to nudge Nick fondly in the side. “What kind of Grimm are you, brother?”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“And there’s no way that could go wrong,” Nick replies and holds up the tape. “I’ll apply some of those. If you still feel the urge to stitch yourself up later, go ahead.” 

He sits down on the edge of the bed and just looks at Kolya, a hand on the small of his back. “Whatever Grimm I am, I’ve never ended up this bad.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya sticks his tongue out at Nick. "What do you know, you're new."

He huffs out a short breath, picking at the fabric of the couch covering. "This isn't all that bad," he says turning to Nick with a lopsided grin. "I've had much much worse."

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick playfully pinches Kolya’s ass. “Once, in high school,” he admits, not without a grin of his own.

“I can put a bandage on this, but I doubt I could stitch you up properly.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

“High school,” Kolya mutters. “That sounds fun,” in a tone that indicated exactly how not-fun he was imagining it to be.

He yawns, stretching his fingers a bit to test how stiff they were. Not too bad, though his left wrist was violently red and purple in splotches. “Just wrap it up for me. I can stitch it up myself later.”

He catches Nick’s hand when he brings it close again with the towel. “Thanks, Nick.”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick raises his eyebrows and reaches for the bag if supplies. “If we are lucky Juliette might have some medical tape in here. She used it to tend a pretty bad kitchen accident once,” he says, rummaging through the stuff. “How would you stitch up your own back anyway.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya grins, wolfish. "In a mirror."

He turns his head to return a reflection of Nick's raised eyebrow. "A kitchen accident? Did you lose your grip on a knife and cut your hand open?" Snickering a little, he reaches out a foot to nudge Nick fondly in the side. "What kind of Grimm are you, brother?"

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“I’m sure you’ve been handled way more roughly,” Nick replies dryly. He gently dabs at the wound and winces in sympathy when Kolya jerks back from the touch.

“Sorry,” he says and places his hand on Kolya’s lower back, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. 

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya pouts, adding the edge of a whine to his voice. “I wouldn’t mind if this was going to end in fucking.” He wriggles his ass the slightest bit, being careful not to interfere with Nick working on his back.

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you’ve never jerked yourself off in front of a mirror.”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick playfully pinches Kolya’s ass. “Once, in high school,” he admits, not without a grin of his own.

“I can put a bandage on this, but I doubt I could stitch you up properly.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

"High school," Kolya mutters. "That sounds fun," in a tone that indicated exactly how not-fun he was imagining it to be.

He yawns, stretching his fingers a bit to test how stiff they were. Not too bad, though his left wrist was violently red and purple in splotches. "Just wrap it up for me. I can stitch it up myself later."

He catches Nick's hand when he brings it close again with the towel. "Thanks, Nick."

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick grins back somewhat crookedly. “On your front, I need to look at that cut a bit more,” he says and wets another towel.

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya complies, pillowing his head on his good arm as takes in his surroundings. It’s the first time he’s been in Nick’s house—a comfortably homey place with the kinds of personal touches that come from living and expecting to live there for a long time. It feels strange, looking at this different life he could have had, this other him that’s turned out a whole different person.

“Fuck,” he curses, when Nick gets started on disinfecting the gash. “Don’t be so rough with me, brother.”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“I’m sure you’ve been handled way more roughly,” Nick replies dryly. He gently dabs at the wound and winces in sympathy when Kolya jerks back from the touch.

“Sorry,” he says and places his hand on Kolya’s lower back, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. 

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya pouts, adding the edge of a whine to his voice. "I wouldn't mind if this was going to end in fucking." He wriggles his ass the slightest bit, being careful not to interfere with Nick working on his back.

"C'mon, you can't tell me you've never jerked yourself off in front of a mirror."

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick smiles wryly when he gets back and spots Kolya asleep. He places the water bowl, disinfectant, as well as a few new towels on the table and then kneels down next to couch on the ground.

“Hey, wake up,” he says and gently places a hand on Kolya’s shoulder to shake him lightly. “We need to get this over with, you can have your beauty sleep later.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya yawns, swatting at the weight on his shoulder before he remembers raising his arm is not so great an idea when his whole left side twinges. “Ow,” he mutters, blinking his eyes blearily open.

“How do you want me?” he asks, giving Nick a slow grin. The effect is somewhat ruined when he winces at the way that pulls on his lips.

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick grins back somewhat crookedly. “On your front, I need to look at that cut a bit more,” he says and wets another towel.

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya complies, pillowing his head on his good arm as takes in his surroundings. It's the first time he's been in Nick's house--a comfortably homey place with the kinds of personal touches that come from living and expecting to live there for a long time. It feels strange, looking at this different life he could have had, this other him that's turned out a whole different person.

"Fuck," he curses, when Nick gets started on disinfecting the gash. "Don't be so rough with me, brother."

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“Bad,” Nick says and carefully prods the wound with his fingertips. It seems quite deep. “This might need some stitches.”

Nick reaches for the bowl on the table. “I’ll get some fresh water and check where Juliette keeps the disinfectant.” He smiles weakly. “It’s not like I never get hurt.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya grimaces. “Stitches, fantastic.” He punches Nick lightly on the arm when it moves into range. “Lucky we’re so resilient or we’d really be in trouble.”

Flopped back over onto the couch while Nick collects what he needs, Kolya drops off into a light sleep.

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick smiles wryly when he gets back and spots Kolya asleep. He places the water bowl, disinfectant, as well as a few new towels on the table and then kneels down next to couch on the ground.

“Hey, wake up,” he says and gently places a hand on Kolya’s shoulder to shake him lightly. “We need to get this over with, you can have your beauty sleep later.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya yawns, swatting at the weight on his shoulder before he remembers raising his arm is not so great an idea when his whole left side twinges. "Ow," he mutters, blinking his eyes blearily open.

"How do you want me?" he asks, giving Nick a slow grin. The effect is somewhat ruined when he winces at the way that pulls on his lips.

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

I need to be fucked. /Desperately./

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick shakes his head, his expression turning sad. “I haven’t,” he says and rubs a bit too harshly over a bloody spot on Kolya’s stomach. At his wince, Nick immediately regrets it. 

“Sorry,” he says softly and places a hand on Kolya’s shoulder. “Turn around so I can see your back.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Obligingly, Kolya does as he’s told. His legs twinge uncomfortably, but nothing’s broken as far as he can tell. He wonders who the strange Grimm was, and whether it was someone Renard had called to Portland? Unlikely, if he was keeping a low profile. A declaration of war then? He shakes his head—it’s not any of his business here.

He’s got more immediate concerns, such as the long slash running down his back that starts to burn again when Nick applies pressure and a damp towel. “How’s it look?”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“Bad,” Nick says and carefully prods the wound with his fingertips. It seems quite deep. “This might need some stitches.”

Nick reaches for the bowl on the table. “I’ll get some fresh water and check where Juliette keeps the disinfectant.” He smiles weakly. “It’s not like I never get hurt.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya grimaces. "Stitches, fantastic." He punches Nick lightly on the arm when it moves into range. "Lucky we're so resilient or we'd really be in trouble."

Flopped back over onto the couch while Nick collects what he needs, Kolya drops off into a light sleep.

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick raises his eyebrows but does as he’s told. After putting the towel back down onto the desk, he reaches to slowly unbutton Kolya’s shirt.

“I’ll make Juliette check you over when she gets home,” he says quietly as he undoes the last button and then carefully pulls the shirt off Kolya’s arms. “Sit a bit.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

“Yes detective,” Kolya answers with a grin. “You’ll be sure to search me thoroughly, won’t you? I’ve hiding all sorts of weapons on my person.”

He oofs when Nick less-than-accidentally pokes at a bruise, then pulls a face because that’s at least one cracked rib for sure.

“There’s been a lot of Grimm activity in Portland lately,” he observes. “I wonder if something’s going down.” He blows a breath of air over the top of Nick’s head, since Nick’s leaning in to wipe some of the blood off his chest. “You hear anything from Monroe?”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick shakes his head, his expression turning sad. “I haven’t,” he says and rubs a bit too harshly over a bloody spot on Kolya’s stomach. At his wince, Nick immediately regrets it. 

“Sorry,” he says softly and places a hand on Kolya’s shoulder. “Turn around so I can see your back.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Obligingly, Kolya does as he's told. His legs twinge uncomfortably, but nothing's broken as far as he can tell. He wonders who the strange Grimm was, and whether it was someone Renard had called to Portland? Unlikely, if he was keeping a low profile. A declaration of war then? He shakes his head--it's not any of his business here.

He's got more immediate concerns, such as the long slash running down his back that starts to burn again when Nick applies pressure and a damp towel. "How's it look?"

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“I won’t,” Nick replies, but he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep that promise. Someone like that was dangerous and, Grimm or not, shouldn’t be walking free. 

He finishes wrapping Kolya’s hand and then reaches for one of the towels. “Get those clothes off you so we can get you cleaned up and check for wounds.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya’s face goes white with pain when he tries to rotate his shoulder far enough to shrug out of his jacket, and he collapses back into the couch, breathing hard.

“You’re going to have to strip me,” he says to Nick, expression tight.

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick raises his eyebrows but does as he’s told. After putting the towel back down onto the desk, he reaches to slowly unbutton Kolya’s shirt.

“I’ll make Juliette check you over when she gets home,” he says quietly as he undoes the last button and then carefully pulls the shirt off Kolya’s arms. “Sit a bit.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

"Yes detective," Kolya answers with a grin. "You'll be sure to search me thoroughly, won't you? I've hiding all sorts of weapons on my person."

He oofs when Nick less-than-accidentally pokes at a bruise, then pulls a face because that's at least one cracked rib for sure.

"There's been a lot of Grimm activity in Portland lately," he observes. "I wonder if something's going down." He blows a breath of air over the top of Nick's head, since Nick's leaning in to wipe some of the blood off his chest. "You hear anything from Monroe?"

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“Who did you get yourself in trouble with?” Nick smiles back, trying to distract Kolya from what he’s about to do. Carefully, he takes Kolya’s hand into one of his, using his other to hold Kolya’s wrist still.

“Don’t blame me if this goes wrong. I’m going to count to three,” Nick says and takes a deep breath. ”1, 2,” and with that, he wrenches Kolya’s wrist back in place.

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya screams, rolling over and off the couch to land in a heap at Nick’s feet. He clutches pitifully at the leg of Nick’s jeans.

“Thanks,” he says in a quiet voice.

With a low moan, he struggles back onto the couch and offers up his wrist for Nick to wrap up in a makeshift bandage. “It was this Grimm I’ve never seen before. I’ve never—fuck, he put me on the ground before I even got a hit in. Like it was nothing.” He licks at the corner of his mouth, dark already with uneven bruising. “He had the coldest fucking—nice face, but. Like he didn’t have a soul.”

Kolya shudders. “I’m not going to go after him again.”

“You shouldn’t either,” he adds after a minute, shifting enough to give Nick a serious look. “He’s definitely got connections on high.”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“I won’t,” Nick replies, but he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep that promise. Someone like that was dangerous and, Grimm or not, shouldn’t be walking free. 

He finishes wrapping Kolya’s hand and then reaches for one of the towels. “Get those clothes off you so we can get you cleaned up and check for wounds.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya's face goes white with pain when he tries to rotate his shoulder far enough to shrug out of his jacket, and he collapses back into the couch, breathing hard.

"You're going to have to strip me," he says to Nick, expression tight.

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick winces at the sight of Kolya’s wrist and gently takes his hand between his own.

“I don’t think I can deal with this,” he admits. “You need proper medical attention.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

“Just,” he says with a wave of his other hand, “pop it back into place.”

He gives Nick a wry smile. “I don’t exactly have health insurance.”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“Who did you get yourself in trouble with?” Nick smiles back, trying to distract Kolya from what he’s about to do. Carefully, he takes Kolya’s hand into one of his, using his other to hold Kolya’s wrist still.

“Don’t blame me if this goes wrong. I’m going to count to three,” Nick says and takes a deep breath. ”1, 2,” and with that, he wrenches Kolya’s wrist back in place.

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

Kolya screams, rolling over and off the couch to land in a heap at Nick's feet. He clutches pitifully at the leg of Nick's jeans.

"Thanks," he says in a quiet voice.

With a low moan, he struggles back onto the couch and offers up his wrist for Nick to wrap up in a makeshift bandage. "It was this Grimm I've never seen before. I've never--fuck, he put me on the ground before I even got a hit in. Like it was nothing." He licks at the corner of his mouth, dark already with uneven bruising. "He had the coldest fucking--nice face, but. Like he didn't have a soul."

Kolya shudders. "I'm not going to go after him again."

"You shouldn't either," he adds after a minute, shifting enough to give Nick a serious look. "He's definitely got connections on high."

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“You are at my place,” Nick says when he enters the room with a bowl of hot water and towels in his hands. He carefully sets them down on the coffee table and turns to Kolya.

“What the hell happened to you?”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

“M’dying,” Kolya mumbles into the couch cushion. He takes a pained breath before shifting enough that he can see what Nick was doing in the corner of his vision. He hasn’t gotten a beatdown this bad since the first time he trained with Renard, and even then, Renard was mostly holding back.

“I got the crap kicked out of me,” he admits, grimacing at the way talking stretches his jaw in spectacularly unpleasant ways.

Teeth grit, he drags up his left arm with his right hand and holds it out to Nick, the wrist of that arm bent at a decidedly unnatural angle. “You’re going to have to fix this first.”

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

Nick winces at the sight of Kolya’s wrist and gently takes his hand between his own.

“I don’t think I can deal with this,” he admits. “You need proper medical attention.”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

"Just," he says with a wave of his other hand, "pop it back into place."

He gives Nick a wry smile. "I don't exactly have health insurance."

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

thefairestgrimm:

“I’m here, I’m he—” Nick says as he opens the door, but is stopped in his tracks when he notices the unconscious figure on his door steps. The smell of blood penetrates the air. “Fuck, Kolya?”

He kneels down and carefully rolls Kolya onto his back. There’s blood on his face, and his clothes seem to be ripped. Carefully, Nick places two fingers against Kolya’s throat, checking for his pulse. It’s slow but steady and he sighs in relief. “However am I going to explain this one to Juliette?” Nick wonders and threads his arms below Kolya’s armpits and across his chest to hoist him up and drag him into the house. In the living room, he moves Kolya up onto the couch as carefully as possible

Kolya groans, his probably broken ribs protesting the movement. He’s resting on something soft and squishy that smells strangely familiar—like him, he realizes. Odd, since he hasn’t stayed anywhere long enough for the furniture to pick up his scent in years.

He sighs softly at the fingers that brush hair off his face, wincing when they get to a sore spot. The whole left side of his face is tender, and his jaw aches too, like someone’s punched him in the mouth.

“Where’m I?” he mumbles at the hand. 

[thefairestgrimm-blog-deactivate]

“You are at my place,” Nick says when he enters the room with a bowl of hot water and towels in his hands. He carefully sets them down on the coffee table and turns to Kolya.

“What the hell happened to you?”

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

"M'dying," Kolya mumbles into the couch cushion. He takes a pained breath before shifting enough that he can see what Nick was doing in the corner of his vision. He hasn't gotten a beatdown this bad since the first time he trained with Renard, and even then, Renard was mostly holding back.

"I got the crap kicked out of me," he admits, grimacing at the way talking stretches his jaw in spectacularly unpleasant ways.

Teeth grit, he drags up his left arm with his right hand and holds it out to Nick, the wrist of that arm bent at a decidedly unnatural angle. "You're going to have to fix this first."

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

thefairestgrimm:

nick-of-hearts:

/Knocks heavily on the door./ Fuck, Nick, open up! /He drops his head against the wood frame, coughing violently. When he pulls his hand away, there's a decent amount of blood on his palm./ Fuck. /He mutters, before passing out completely, slumping slowly to the ground./

“I’m here, I’m he—” Nick says as he opens the door, but is stopped in his tracks when he notices the unconscious figure on his door steps. The smell of blood penetrates the air. “Fuck, Kolya?” He kneels down and carefully rolls Kolya onto his back. There’s blood on his face, and his clothes seem to be ripped. Carefully, Nick places two fingers against Kolya’s throat, checking for his pulse. It’s slow but steady and he sighs in relief. “However am I going to explain this one to Juliette?” Nick wonders and threads his arms below Kolya’s armpits and across his chest to hoist him up and drag him into the house. In the living room, he moves Kolya up onto the couch as carefully as possible

Kolya groans, his probably broken ribs protesting the movement. He's resting on something soft and squishy that smells strangely familiar--like him, he realizes. Odd, since he hasn't stayed anywhere long enough for the furniture to pick up his scent in years.

He sighs softly at the fingers that brush hair off his face, wincing when they get to a sore spot. The whole left side of his face is tender, and his jaw aches too, like someone's punched him in the mouth.

"Where'm I?" he mumbles at the hand. 

[nicholas-de-burkhardt]

[fic] kisses for sale

Nick's sitting crosswise on the chaise longue in the practice rooms, draped over it with his arms and legs thrown haphazardly over the back of the seat, but there is nothing casual about the way he's raking his eyes over Machiavelli's person.

"Machiavelli," he says in a slow drawl, dragging out the syllables of his name as if they're distasteful to him.

Machiavelli stands absolutely still.

"Lord Nick," he answers, hands clenched tightly at his sides. "You got in late last night."

Nick laughs. He's still laughing when he's halfway across the room before Machiavelli can react, slamming Machiavelli back into the wall. 　"Yes," Nick murmurs, low and dangerous, teeth against the side of Machiavelli's face, "and you were warming my bed."

Machiavelli flinches. "The prince--"

Nick's hand slams into the wall an inch from Machiavelli's head, and his long sharp knife comes out to rest against Machiavelli's throat. It's so familiar by now that Machiavelli dreams of steel against his throat, the cold hard press of it choking him awake.

"I do not care what the prince wants," Nick snarls, something wild and broken in his voice.

It's never easy with Lord Nick, because Nick does not look at him. Nick looks at the curve of his throat and sees Renard, the pale skin of his thighs and the unmarked sweeps of his wrists. Machiavelli does not think Lord Nick even loves the prince, but it is convenient for him to perpetuate the lie.