#Thunderbolt Fantasy transcript

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The next transcript is up ⛵️

[thedwarrowscholar]

Hi,

I saw that you helped someone in the past with the Dwarvish translation for their tattoo. I'd like to ask for your help. My husband is wanting "My wings are a hurricane" translated but I can find any source at all on the word for wings, and the only thing I can come up for, for hurricane, is 'mighty wind'. Any help you can give would be much appreciated.

Thank you,

Rae

Hi there, Thank you for your patience. A wonderful piece of a quote from the Hobbit indeed (The Hobbit, Ch. 12 "'Inside Information").

“My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!”

Smaug is his signature boastful over-confidence (eventually getting him killed) is what makes him such a perfect villain in my view. Not only is he not your typical 2D fantasy monster, he is a carefully crafted complex character that talks with the aggressive civility of British aristocracy (which bewilders all that hear it by overwhelming greed) and at the same time cannot get enough of far-too-obvious flattery. Almost a shame he dies so quickly in the book and we don't get to hear more of him.... almost. Your requested translation/transcription:

If we have a closer look at the Neo-Khuzdul translation we see: ◉ "agâhê": "my-wings" (agâh = wings / -ê = my) ◉ "tâtîn": (they)-are ◉ "mulumikhbênbagd": hurricane, whirlwind, tornado, gyre (consisting of "mulum" = quick, fast, speedy / "ikhbên" = twirling/whirling (the act of) / "bagd" = wind. So literally "mulumikhbênbagd" means "fast whirling wind"). The majority of these words you can find in the Dictionary on the site, though I believe "hurricane" is currently not listed yet (as it is still in the current draft, to be published later). Ever at your service, The Dwarrow Scholar

[buckysbabygorl]

Praise

Summary: Part 2 of Blunt, Bucky decides to take a different approach.

Word Count: 1.5k

Part 3

One might call it a glimmer of hope.

Sam, however, might call it a goddamn miracle.

Look so good that I’d ride your thighs every day of the week, and twice on Sunday.

The recollection made Bucky lightheaded, nearly nauseous.

It felt like fantasy, were those words muttered by those divine lips?

Is it possible that Bucky wasn’t completely hallucinating?

Y/N said it.

She said it.

Look so good that I’d ride your thighs every day of the week, and twice on Sunday.

Why couldn’t they have transcripts of their meetings? Weren’t audio recordings a thing nowadays?

If only he could hear it again.

Again, and again, and again.

It had been two weeks.

He was in havoc.

It was desperate, it was pathetic, it was submissive but lord almighty, not an ounce of his soul could provide a single fuck. He wanted to hear it again.

He was on the verge of misbehaving.

When it came to her, when was he not?

The man was nearly on his knees in her presence.

He had been since the moment they met, and the urge had only grown stronger since she uttered that sentence.

It truly was worse.

Because now Bucky knew he stood a chance.

Everyone knew it was a one in a million occurrence, Y/N was not the type to ever let that behavior slip more than once.

Most men would have taken the situation as it was, a fortune no other person would have been lucky to have.

Y/N admitted he was attractive, that should’ve been enough.

Except it wasn’t.

He was selfish, he wanted more.

So he decided to be careful. He had been going about this all wrong, he learnt from his mistakes. 

He laid low, controlling his flirtatious desires. He was cordial, appropriate, he hadn’t laid a single line similar to the ones he had that fateful day.

It was weeks.

The team was surprised. They figured he’d got his fill, his school boy crush satiated after the less than professional debriefing. In their eyes, the pining had finally ended.

They were wrong.

General Thaddeus E. "Thunderbolt" Ross was, technically, the Avengers’ superior. He was not seen as part of the team, or authentically respected, but there was an agreed upon professionalism the team would give to Ross.

Y/N, was especially apt to maintaining a courteous and serious conversation with Ross, which was her current goal for the meeting today.

They were discussing innovation strategy.

Well, innovation strategy on behalf of Tony Stark.

Y/N wanted to be seen as an equal with Tony, not just his liaison.

The Avengers did, however Ross did not.

It shouldn’t have been necessary, but the team decided to back her up on this one.

The meeting with Ross went as it usually did; undermining Y/N every chance he could, interrupting consistently, and incorrectly over explaining in areas that Y/N had vast knowledge in.

The team was fuming.

Y/N showed minimal phasement.

They all vouched for Y/N when they could, insisting that Tony was fully confident in Y/N’s capabilities.

But Ross was an ass, asking over and over to speak to Stark directly.

Until Barnes spoke up.

“General.”

The word was directed with an assertive tone, three syllables commanding the room almost instantly.

“Agent L/N has been patient with you. Frankly, I won’t be. We all know Tony isn’t against speaking up for himself. If Agent L/N is here on his behalf, it isn’t because he doesn’t feel up to speaking his part. It’s because Agent L/N is far better at explaining it than he is. In fact, I’d say she is better at developing and communicating Stark’s ideas than he is.”

He could feel her eyes on him. 

That familiar feeling, of being seen through and understood in the intelligent way that Y/N could. 

It had encompassed him many times. Sure, not when it came to his flirtations, but when he discussed battle, when the team argued over morale, when logistics and rationale came into play, Y/N was the one that held the head of the table. 

Y/N knew when someone was full of shit. Y/N knew when someone was blinded by their own biases. Y/N knew when someone was telling the truth.

And now, in this moment, by that intense stare Bucky felt ripple over his skin, he knew that Y/N knew, he meant every word.

The group remained silent, not out of fear, but out of respect. Bucky was right.

She squared her shoulders, she held Ross’s eye as if it were fragile glass in the palm of her hand. Breakable. Disposable.

“Sergeant Barnes is right, General Ross. I would not be here if I didn’t fully understand Tony’s intentions and direction with this team. I don’t expect that you doubt this, that would be extremely foolish. You agree, of course.”

Ross issued some form of agreement, implying that of course he knew she was capable and of course she was beyond intelligent and understanding.

He would’ve been an idiot not to acknowledge it now.

The meeting summed up rather quickly after that; Ross thanking the group and giving a quick dismissal.

The team filed out shortly afterwards. Except for Y/N and Bucky.

She adjusted her glasses, noting more on her tablet as the group dispersed.

Bucky texted Steve, relaying both the important information and the gossip.

Ross was an ass as usual, but the project is a go. Be there in 30 - Bucky

Steve quickly responded.

Figures, but at least we have the greenlight. Also, stop signing off your texts. I know it’s you, punk.

Bucky went to make his leave, his fingers on the door handle.

“Don’t.”

He didn’t freeze. He obeyed.

He figured it would have grabbed her attention.

He was vocal enough with the team, but higher authority is where Bucky usually opted out of speaking. He knew well and good he wasn’t in their good graces, more often than not he chose to stay silent to keep the peace.

He didn’t expect his change in behavior would go unnoticed, not by the team. Especially not by her.

He turned.

Her eyes stayed on her tablet as she finished typing. She tucked her pen swiftly behind her ear, stowing away her notebook and tech in her bag, and she swiveled in her seat to face him.

One leg crossing the other, a hand removing her glasses and tucking them in her shirt pocket, she stared through him.

A week ago, Bucky would’ve melted at her attention. This Bucky didn’t shutter.

“I didn’t need you to do that.” She said.

Bucky nodded.

“I know.”

Y/N tilted her head, a finger placed purposefully on her cheek as she analyzed him.

She hummed.

“You do know.” 

She smirked, rising from her seat and approaching him slowly. Bucky gulped, his steely reserve slowly faltering with every step she took.

She reached up to straighten his collar, and Bucky thanked his past self for deciding not to wear a tie, knowing that the feeling of her hands’ hypothetical tightening of it would have taken every semblance of breath from his body.

She toyed with the collar’s button, eyes piercing through his pulse point.

“So, why?” She asked.

Bucky cleared his throat, urging himself to do something bold. Something more than just standing like a fool.

“Y/N...”

He looked at her glasses, plucking them from her shirt pocket, which was interestingly within his near reach.

He pulled the neatly folded handkerchief from his own shirt pocket, using it to delicately wipe a fingerprint off her lens.

“... we are far from deserving you. And even though you know that, and the rest of us know that...”

He placed the clean glasses back into her pocket, finally meeting her eye.

“I think every once in awhile, you need to really hear it. Especially when it counts.”

Quiet settled between them. Neither shifted from their stance, and Y/N simply observed.

Bucky then folded his cloth square into its original form, settling it back into his pocket. He hadn’t broken eye contact once during.

He smirked softly, “Don’t you agree?”

She didn’t blush. Her lips didn’t quirk, her gaze never faltered from his nor her shoulders shift in tension.

But Bucky was smart, perceptive...

When you’re careful enough to look for the changes, you see them.

And with sharp eyes and the blessing of super soldier hearing, Bucky was sure not to miss the dilating of her pupils and the near missable quickening of a pulse.

“I do.” She said.

She moved past him, in an abrupt way, one might have called it rude.

One might call it a glimmer of hope.

Sam, if he was as perceptive as Barnes, might call it a goddamn miracle.

As she went to leave the room, she gently spoke over her shoulder.

“In my opinion, Sergeant Barnes...”

Bucky had to rally for composure, the sultry composition she made of his rank and his surname never failing to make him weak.

“...praise is always beneficial in encouraging team morale.”

~

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It's been a minute, but 2/39 episodes transcribed ✌️

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the start of a very long pet project (1/39 episodes transcribed)

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okay, back to transcribing chronologically... for now