#bllood tw//

[a-mongooose]

this silly little show and its fandom broke into my house and beat me with a 2 by 4 till i drew these oops  so uh yeah shoutout to the series that got me to meet my bf 3 years ago ~to the month finally getting it’s well deserved second season that had literally no reason to be absolutely fantastic and amazing but was anyways~~ hyperfixation is truly going brrr rn so expect a lot more of these 3 silly little guys and friends

[obsidiancreates]

Fierce and Jealous Love

Dragon sickness.

I've seen it before. That look. That terrible need.

It is a fierce, and jealous love, Bilbo. It sent his grandfather mad.

It had been mere days since Balin had said these words to their burglar. Days since Bilbo had asked if The Arkenstone could cure Thorin's madness, and Balin said it was better to let it remain lost. He'd suspected Bilbo had found it, of course. If anyone would have, it'd be Bilbo.

It always came down to Bilbo, somehow. Sweet, kind Bilbo, who loved the simple things in life, and loved his friends even more. Who'd never had even a twinkle in his eye for the thought of riches, who'd joined them for adventure and to help them reclaim their home. Brave, wonderful Bilbo, so gentle but with such a firey streak when he needed it.

I've seen it before.

Bilbo had given The Arkenstone away to try and broker Peace. Balin had watched the Need falter from Thorin's eyes for a moment, when Bilbo admitted it. Had seen the sickness fade under the weight of the betrayal, of the heartbreak, tears spilling out of Thorin's once hungry eyes.

That look.

And then it had returned, stronger, and then Thorin had barked to throw Bilbo off the rampart. The order struck Balin's heart with an icy chill, as though seeing Thorin's corpse before him would.

And when none would obey Thorin had taken Bilbo himself, shoving him against the wall with the intent to throw him off, and Bilbo hadn't fought back out of shock and stared at Thorin with such fear and disbelief-

And in Thorin's rough handling something fell out of Bilbo's pocket.

That look.

Bilbo's attention left Thorin's face, and Thorin's attention left his. Thorin kept one hand on Bilbo, and bent down to pick up the item.

A small golden ring.

It wasn't of dwarvish make, Balin was sure. It was made for smaller, more nimble fingers. And it was plain, a band of gold and nothing else, and rarely did dwarves ever make jewelry with so little else to it.

But to Thorin, none of that mattered. Balin could tell that all he saw was the gold.

"You've been stealing form me this whole time," Thorin had breathed. He held the ring up, Bilbo's eyes tracking the movement. And something flashed in their hobbit's eyes, something-

Familar.

"You will take no more!" Thorin closed his hand around the ring-

That terrible need.

Sting was at Thorin's throat before anyone even realized it'd been unsheathed. The company went silent.

Bilbo stared at Thorin, eyes wide and mouth set in a snarl, his little blade pressed against the soft flesh of the king's neck. Thorin stared, bewildered.

"That's mine," Bilbo had all but growled, a tone of voice none had heard from him before, and Balin felt another stab of that icy grief.

"You stole it, thief," Thorin spat.

Bilbo was trembling, his breaths coming in pants. "You stole it!" he shouted. "You stole it, it's mine, mine!"

"You own nothing from these halls!"

"It's not from your stupid treasure," Bilbo spat. "I don't care about your treasure!"

Thorin's eyes flicked down to the blade, weighing the risks. Balin prayed that Thorin would see sense, would-

"You don't deserve such things," Thorin had said in a shaky voice, madness burning bright in his eyes. "Even if it was not of Erebor before, it is now."

He turned and tossed the ring into the entrance of the mountain-

It is a fierce, and jealous love, Bilbo.

And Bilbo screamed.

"NO!" He leap onto Thorin! Balin's breath stuttered in his chest, watching Bilbo attacking Thorin, and though it wasn't exactly the same as Thorin's he saw the same bright, feverish madness.

"GET OFF OF ME!" Thorin roared, trying to grab Bilbo off of his back.

"IT'S MINE!" Bilbo screamed back, "MINE!"

They toppled over the edge of the makeshift staircase, falling to the ground of Erebor's welcoming hall below! The elves and men outside were forgotten, The Company racing to look down.

Bilbo was scrambling for the little ring, ignoring Thorin, but Thorin grabbed Bilbo by the back of the coat! Bilbo screeched, a sound unlike anything they'd heard from him before, a sound of hate. He thrust himself backwards, pushing Thorin into the wall with all his might! Thorin let go in the shock of it, and Bilbo shot off again to the one little ring taking up all of his mind.

"What's happening?" Kili whispered, horrified by the sight of Thorin and Bilbo, stoic and honorable King-To-Be and loyal and kind Hobbit of the Shire, fighting like dogs below.

"I do not know," Balin said, his own shaking hand finding the young prince's and both of them using the other for support. "But whatever has claimed our burglar's mind feels like sickness."

"Is it like Thorin's?" Ori looks away as Bilbo is picked up by his arm and thrown onto the ground, closing his eyes when he hear the clatter of an elfish blade against dwarvish armor. "Is it dragon sickness?"

But Balin's eyes fall on the single, solitary ring. One ring, making Bilbo fight with all the ferocity and jealousy that Thorin had for the entire hoard. "I don't think so, Lad. But it's something similar."

Thorin snatched the ring up, and Bilbo screamed again. He swung Sting wildly, and it finally found flesh, Thorin crying out as blood began pouring from his uncovered hand. He lost the ability to grip with it, and the ring clattered to the ground, covered in blood.

Bilbo dived for it, scooping it up and clutching it close to his chest, closing his eyes and letting out a laugh, a relieved and crazed laugh.

Thorin's head snapped up at the sound, more fire burning in his eyes now. He grabbed his own sword and stabbed at Bilbo's torso.

The Company screamed, Bofur almost jumping down the stairs to reach them-

"The mithril," Thorin whispered in horrified rage as no blood came. Bilbo shoved the blade by the flat side and turned to run-

Thorin roared once more, and now it was he who leapt at Bilbo! Bilbo jerked to the side, but Thorin still managed to grab his arm, sending the ring skittering across the floor once more and Bilbo was yanked down to the ground!

They didn't cease fighting for even a moment, Bilbo getting on top of Thorin and his hands find a rock and he begins to aim for Thorin's head, eyes burning with hate blotting out all recognition! "IT'S MINE! YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!"

"YOU FORFEIT ALL RIGHTS TO OUR TREASURES, YOU FILTH!" Even while squirming only barely enough to avoid his skull being smashed in, he couldn't help but spew hate. "YOUR PRECIOUS RING IS MINE, JUST AS YOU GAVE AWAY MY BIRTHRIGHT!"

Balin saw a change come over Bilbo, the word 'precious' seeming to send him into shock, the rock falling from his hands as he shut his eyes and shook his head like he was trying to cast something out of it.

Thorin took the chance to flip them, pinning Bilbo down and scowling. He reached for his sword and raised it to behead.

"Any last word, you squirming weasel?" Thorin spat. "Before you and your stolen ring are separated?"

Bilbo's eyes snapped open, and he snarled again, and he jerked up and bit Thorin's throat.

Thorin screamed! The hobbit was latched one, biting the tender area where the neck and shoulder meet! Blood was pouring out, and Thorin was going pale!

"UNCLE!" Fili finally leapt from the wall, sprinting towards them! Kili was next, and soon all of The Company were on the ground! Fili and Kil tore Bilbo and Thorin apart, both of them still spewing hatred at the other.

"MISERABLE TRAITOR!"

"THIEF, MY RING, MINE!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Dwalin growled, and Dori handed him rope to tie both of them up.

"I am your King!" Thorin bellowed. "You cannot restrain me!"

Bilbo just writhed, eyes always locking onto the ring mere feet away. He spoke in low mutters, almost unaware of his surroundings. "Filthy, greedy dwarves, my ring, mine, came to me-"

That look. That terrible need.

If the look of such possessiveness, such obsession, didn't belong it Thorin's eyes, it was even more wrong in Bilbo's. Balin stood in front of Bilbo, his own eyes wet with grief and heartache.

"What happened, laddie?" he said, voice soft and cracked. "What happened?"

Bilbo seethed through bloody teeth, and Thorin laughed. "His true nature revealed! A scum upon our halls!"

"Thief!" Bilbo spat again. "It's mine!" His eyes fixed on that ring again, and Balin felt a deep, deep desire to throw the golden band into the great forges. Such an item should not cause such desire to fester, to corrupt.

It was Nori who picked it up, and as soon as he did Bilbo tried to jerk to attack him! But Dwalin had a strong grip, and though it was Thorin who bled the most Bilbo was still littered with scratches and growing bruises.

And Balin accompanied his brother to the cells still intact, meant to hold drunkards who took small fights too far.

And one the walk there was a shift.

One moment Bilbo was jerking, squirming, muttering hateful and possessive things. And then he'd blinked, and tilted his head, eyes cooling from the fiery rage of before into gentle confusion. And then they'd widened, and his breathing quickened, and he whimpered.

"What have I done?" he breathed. He swallowed, and then gagged, and Balin knew in that moment that Bilbo hadn't realized there was blood in his mouth until it'd hit the back of this throat.

"What have ye done indeed," Dwalin muttered.

Balin watched Bilbo's hands tense where they were tied behind his back, his fingers never stopping their moving, trying to grasp at something that wasn't there. "It's gone," their burglar whispered.

"Aye." Balin opened the cell door. "And it'll remain that way."

Bilbo looked at Balin with wide, regretful, fearful eyes. "I-I didn't- I couldn't- Balin, please, you know that if I-if I-"

"Settle down, lad."

"It wasn't me," Bilbo breathes, eyes searching the ground as Dwalin unties the ropes. Bilbo just collapses to the floor, bringing a shaking hand to cover his mouth.

When they shut the door, lock it, Bilbo whimpers again, tears streaking down his face.

But his hand goes to his pocket, a habit Balin had noticed but never thought much of. Not until now.

And he saw it again, for a moment. Flashing in Bilbo's mourful eyes.

That look.

That terrible need.

He and Dwalin turn away from the cell, and Balin takes in a shaky breath. "Nori should take that ring to Gandalf," Balin breathes out.

Dwalin nods.

Because surely it was cursed. Because Bilbo would never, never treat his friend such a way, even with Thorin threatening him like that Balin knew that Bilbo would never harm him. Not if his mind was fully his own.

Not if he wasn't afflicted with sickness. With obsession.

With that fierce, jealous love.