A Little Slice Of A Fic Im Working On

Wait wait wait wait wait hold on hang on hold your horses hold your boar hold your stupid fucking deer. Old mate might be into something here fellas

the lovely Pangur commissioned me to draw some of @themarchrabbit‘s (Lapin) fics, in this case, A Thousand Stars I Wear, an adorable and amazingly interesting Fíli/Ori fic!!!

The shire is warm for most of ther year and when it’s cold is doesn’t drop far below seven degrees

Erebor is fucking cold. Temps drop to around minus fifteen.

Bilbo is not build for these conditions and nearly gets frost bite in the tips of his ears and his toes and Thorin panics and makes him little fur lined leather boots that are soft and flexible but still provide enough warmth to stop his toes falling off.

Bilbo also has to wear a hat and ties his hair back as it grows so he doesn’t realize how much his hair has grown by spring and when he takes the hat off Thorin is gawking

writing is hard but coming up with a cunty title and catchy summary will slay even god's strongest soldier

I’m sorry this isn’t Bagginsheild related again but I thought someone may like to see my flower in making. It’s the first time I’ve made something so fiddly and it’s pretty sloppy work really but. It’s a penny rose made from aluminum.

I think penny roses (or little roses as I suppose you would call them) are to gardening what aluminum is to metal working

Sort of basic and underwhelming to the mind but with the capacity to be very beautiful.

Also, ironically they symbolize delicate beauty, funny given I’ve already broken the bloody thing once and my rivets are a dogs breakfast

Had a really weird dream last night where I was in a black basalt cave with black volcanic sand and black water but the beach was full on gold and I was just like.. on my knees in the sand scrambling to pocket it as much of the gold as I could

I can still feel the sand and gold digging into my knees and the weight of my pockets against my thighs

I think I’m spreading too much time in the work shop 😭

Probably inhaling too much copper dust

Here you go babies, Teenage Dwobbit Frodo 😘 My silly little personal AU in which his is raised in Erebor.

He got all is his papas sneakiness and all his Adads terrifyingness, He’s really a very very sweet boy I promise😭

A drawing of Thorin that baby Dis got ahold of and added some important details that the artist left out (sorry Dis)

Add this to the list of shit I need to draw

Dwalin finding out that Thorin - his best and oldest friend, his king who he would faithfully follow anywhere - is in love with this small ugly bitchy little creature that hasn't stopped complaining since they left the shire and immediately falling to his knees in agony

Bilbo called baby dwobbit Frodo “Petal”

And Thorin called him his “Pebble”

You’re welcome

Hey so what if Bilbo fully just drove Sting up through Azogs chest on the Karak and that was the end of it?

I love time travel AUs so much so let me just…

Avenge the living.

Tw: graphic depictions of battle (very graphic)

Bilbo watched in horror as Thorin was flung across the outcrop like a rag doll, hitting the flat rock like a body on a sacrificial stone, at best he had the wind knocked out of him, at worst he’d have a broken back.

Last time this had all happened he’s managed to walk away but Bilbo honestly couldn’t remember if he had fallen like that before. He cringed and steeled himself.

In the black speech Azog summoned a minion almost his own size to behead Thorin.

Last time it had all been flailing, desperate chaos, this time Bilbo sucked in a deep breath and sprinting, sword forward and close to his side until the final moment where he thrust Sting up and in, somewhere between the orcs floating rib, he yanked upwards on the handle of the blade and heard the putrid popping and sloshing as he rended the side of his blade though the orcs central mass, all it could do was look shocked for two seconds before collapsing dead on top of the king. Bilbo hadn’t turned his sword to catch in the orcs ribs and easily pulled it free. It stunk of the guts it had just shorn through and Bilbo tried not to wretch, he didn’t have time, in two more seconds the company would decent and this would be Bilbos only chance.

He had to kill the white orc. Tonight.

When the fighting began Bilbo was glad to see that for the remainder of his last life what small amount of practice he had kept up with a blade had done him good and sting felt all to right in his hands so when he came nose to nose with the great Worg matriarch that Azog rode upon, Bilbo suprised even himself when he thrust his sword up, piercing the monster from the chin up into her brain, the beast didn’t even howl, she just crumbled, Azogs eyes went wide as he toppled.

The rest of the company continued to dispatch the remaining orcs and Bilbo knew it would be only seconds until the great eagles arrived. It didn’t matter. He had lived his life before and if it ended now it would have been a fine life, full of love and adventure and he would be remembered well.. So while Azog was still freeing himself from under his dead mount Bilbo charged, silent as the grave, leaping onto the Worgs side and propelling himself straight for Azog in what must have looked like a tackle. But he had to intention of grappling the monster, instead he blade shot out again, lower then he would have liked, somewhere around the orcs kidneys, Bilbo assumed. It didn’t matter, he turned the blade vertically and shoved hard and up, until the gash he made in the orcs side was large enough for his hands to regrettably follow the blade in.

Oh course it couldn’t be so easy. Azog was a great and terrible warrior and he would not go down without taking someone with him, his prosthetic blade stabbed deep into Bilbos chest.

Everything seemed to grow quiet and slow, Bilbos heart was all he could hear as he starred down at Azog as blood bubbled out of the orcs mouth and Bilbo actually smiled. He wasn’t sure if he said it or thought it but “For Thorin” where the last words to cross the hobbits mind before it all went black.

Lost in that darkness he was sure he could hear people calling his name. Maybe it was the elves, rousing him for tea.. or maybe it was young Frodo, trying to get him to carry on with what ever story he dozed off half way through.

“Bilbo!”

“Burglar!”

No one in Rivendale or the Shire had ever called him.. Burglar.. so where was he?