Grimm takes you on a wild ride through a hidden world of fantastic beings. In modern Portland, follow Nick Burkhardt, a detective who learns he is part of a family of hunters. They see true forms of Wesen. Nick struggles with his new powers. He juggles protecting humans and keeping peace with both human and Wesen friends. With its rich mythology, gripping plots and eye-popping visuals, Grimm mixes mystery, fantasy and crime drama. You will be glued to your screen!

Meet the Wesen from Grimm

Hexenbiest

Oh man, Hexenbiests are the ultimate dramatic witches of Grimm—glamour, venom, and a temper that could melt butter. They’re elegant and intimidating, always a hair too perfectly arranged even when casting something nasty, and they love old books (and probably a questionable perfume). They’ll manipulate a room without you noticing and then sigh like they weren’t being dramatic at all; also, they cry during bad rom-coms—don’t ask why. Dangerous but oddly maternal in weird moments, which is confusing and maybe their whole thing.

Seltenvogel

Seltenvogel is that rare, birdlike Wesen everyone whispers about—mysterious flyer, gorgeous plumage, and the kind of eyes that look like they read your diary. They’re elusive, like you might spot one at dawn and then swear you imagined it, and they have this odd habit of collecting tiny trinkets (shiny stuff, feathers, a single earring once). They sing in the trees and the songs are somehow both haunting and comforting, like a lullaby from a storm. Gentle but watch your step—if provoked they’re not just pretty wings; there’s a quick, sharp side.

Musasat Alsh-Shabab

Okay this one is flamboyant and full of life—Musasat Alsh-Shabab feels like dancing under lanterns at midnight, constant motion, a prankster with a heart. They love laughter and stories, can spin illusions so convincing you’ll hug a lamp believing it’s your old friend, and they’re fiercely loyal even if they pretend not to be. Kind of chaotic, but in an inspiring way (like, yes there’s glitter on everything you own now). Also they keep one very sensible teapot for emergencies, which is adorable and makes no sense.

Mellifer

Mellifer is basically honey and etiquette wrapped into a Wesen—busy, communal, queenly energy but not always into the spotlight; they’ll run the hive from backstage. They’re sweet (literally sticky sometimes) and protective of their people, with a diplomacy that can soothe fights or masque them entirely. Don’t be fooled—cross them and the sting is real, and they use pheromones like bad flirting (in a terrifyingly efficient way). Also collects tiny jars and writes poetry in margins, which is somehow both terrifying and wholesome.

Seelengut

Seelengut is like a walking, slightly tragic empathy machine—soft-eyed, old-soul vibes, the kind of Wesen who senses moods and hoovers up sadness like spare change. They heal, listen, and usually have tea brewing even if they don’t drink it; they also doodle little skulls in the corner of napkins sometimes, which is oddly gothic. Can be endlessly patient but will shut down like a clock when betrayed, which is when they reveal a surprisingly ruthless streak. Quiet, profound, and odd-smelling in a nostalgic way (think old library meets grandmother’s scarf).

Aswang

Aswang are the classic shape-shifters of nightmares and caretakers at breakfast, which is the best kind of contradiction. Night-hunters with a folklore reputation for being terrifying, yet some are fiercely maternal, tuck kids in, and maybe bake at midnight—very confusing. They can swap into monstrous forms and also into someone’s aunt, so you never know which one you’ll get; super stealthy, very clever, and ethically flexible. Also insists they hate garlic but definitely owns a jar “for the vibe,” which is suspicious.

Mauzhertz

Think cool, jazz-club cat Wesen—Mauzhertz moves with a rhythm, purrs that mess with your heartbeat, and always looks like they stepped out of a black-and-white movie. They’re nimble, a little thieving (ooh shiny!), and can charm you into giving back what they stole, which is somehow worse? They adore clocks and old music boxes and will time you for fun, then forget the results because they got distracted by a moth. Afraid of mice? Extremely. That’s the funniest part.

Hasenfussige Schnecke

Yes, the name literally sounds like a silly fairytale and the creature lives up to it—part slow snail, part rabbit-footed weirdo, which makes for the most unreliable modes of travel ever. It’s slow when it wants to brood, fast when it’s excited (in bursts), and carries its world on its back while complaining about the weather, like an old poet snail-rabbit hybrid. Surprisingly competitive (races! bet you wouldn’t expect that), and also hoards buttons for reasons unknown. They’re introverted philosophy with pockets, honestly.

Musai

Musai are like walking muses who explode into color when you least expect it—they inspire chaos and art and stupidly beautiful decisions. Dramatic, emotional, always rearranging someone’s life to fit a new aesthetic; they’ll help you write a song and then refuse to show up for the chorus rehearsal. They’re messy (paint on everything, including your favorite shirt) and strangely forgetful about basics like feeding themselves, but never misses a dramatic pose. My favorite detail: they can’t draw hands to save their life, which is hilariously tragic.