agentotter:

casspeach:

star-anise:

last-snowfall:

star-anise:

last-snowfall:

inscarletsilence:

on the one hand

what is the fucking point of flipping it you pulled it out of the sheath by the handle there’s no goddamn need for that

why even bother having a special spot easiy to reach in your black leather suit for knives if you’re just going to play with them when you take them out

but on the other hand

hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng 

(He’s switching grips, largely because someone like Steve ain’t gonna give you an easy target for a straight thrust, especially if he’s got his shield, which makes for a lot of over and underhand stuff. But god yess hnnnnnnnnng.)

Also he LOOKS like he’s pulling it out normally, then flips it around—if you don’t have the advantage of a specific close-up you’d easily miss the little flip and think his blade was pointing toward his thumb.  Then when he pulls his arm back across his body you think he’s pointing the knife over to his left, when in reality it is pointing straight at you and he’s about to slam it in your face.  The arm movement to pull it out of the sheath that other way is super awkward and telegraphs the fact that your blade’s going to be reversed from the very beginning.  But the Winter Soldier is a tricksy bastard.  And IIRC, it works—Steve isn’t aware until his arm comes down to strike that he’s about to get hit.  Otherwise he’d find a better way to block it.

</fencer>

Now with additional commentary from a fencer. My “hnnnnnnnng” is only exponentially increased.

Tl;dr knife flips are a useful, brutal, excellent tool.  When the Winter Soldier is coming after you with a knife you’d better have superhuman reflexes, because he is going to attack you from every possible avenue.  If I only hold my blade like a screwdriver, there are a limited number of physical movements I can make, and they are relatively predictable.  If I hold it like an icepick, the repetoire changes but is likewise limited.  If I can flip it around with absolutely no notice, I’ve effectively doubled how difficult I am to defend against.

Reblogging for commentary, and also because I could watch that gif all day.

All of this, and also, even if he WAS just playing with it, fucking around with a weapon is one of the ways that you get really good with it. With knives specifically, for a guy like Bucky — in both his lives — you’d pretty much have one on you at all times, and a lot of the military life (and probably the assassin life too) involves sitting around being bored as shit waiting for the death and terror to start. You end up playing with your weapons, because they’re there, and that’s one of the primary ways you really learn that weapon inside and out. You might play around, switching your grip, flipping it over and over, learning to catch it by the handle, by the point, learning to throw it, learning the exact weight and the center of its balance and all the other things that make handling it so effortless… it’s all just repetition and asking yourself “I wonder if I can….” and doing it until yes, indeed, you can stab some guy in the face before he can even see you coming.

kath-ballantyne:

happy birthday Steve!

One day I’ll be able to actually make them look like themselves but for now this will do.

Photoshop CS, stupid touch screen stylus. I have got to get me another graphics tablet. The screen is slow and unresponsive often and there’s no pressure sensitivity.

Also ahhh what is metal and shadows and foreshortening and why the hell did I draw his head at that angle.

oh damn it, I meant to draw bite marks on his neck too. Ah well, next time.

fieldbears:

potofsoup:

archeralli:

a weak and tortured bucky making sure steve gets to safety first

It’s because Bucky has a habit of letting Steve go first.

——-

1) Always let Steve go first up the stairs, so that you can keep an eye on him.  It’s easier to count Steve’s breaths and notice when Steve’s heart does that thing that makes him stop and shake.  Much easier to stop and pretend to tie your shoes while you wait, worried, than to realize 2 flights too late that Steve’s no longer with you. 

Later: Your limbs are sore and numb from being strapped to a table for 2 days and you’re pretty sure you haven’t eaten and the entire base might be exploding, but when Steve says “let’s go up,” you tell him to go first.

———-

2) Steve’s walk was mostly normal, though he swung his hips in a certain way to compensate for his scoliosis, and that put a special cadence to his stride that you unconsciously match. Even without Steve around you would twist your hip back before swinging your leg forward.  Twist, swing, twist, swing.

Later: Steve is leading the way through the forest, and you’re finally used to his height and broad shoulders and that dumb shield, but something still feels wrong.  Somehow your pace doesn’t quite match, and you can’t figure out why.

———-

3) Colors don’t work the same with Steve, so always describe unfamiliar objects by their shape and relative location, like that square window past the third door on the left, or the man wearing that unseasonably long coat standing in the corner by the garbage can.

Later: The boys are singing in the other room and you’re at the bar with Steve, trying very hard to get drunk because of course you’ll follow Steve into whatever but that doesn’t mean you have to do it sober.  “Steve,” you whisper, “Check out that lady by the door, next to that short thin guy who has his shirt open.”  Steve looks over.  “The one in the red dress?  That’s Miss Carter.”  You decide you need another drink.

———-

4) When walking down a narrow dark alleyway always stay on the right, because Steve’s bad ear makes the right side feel blind to him (though damn if Steve’d ever admit that).  On broad open streets, switch to Steve’s left side, so that Steve could hear you better through the noise.

Later: Dum-Dum gives you a weird look as you line up to charge into a Hydra base.  “Why won’t you take the left flank for a change?”  You start explaining Steve’s bad ear before you remember that he’s not that Steve any more, and that Captain America doesn’t have a bad ear.

———-

5) Stuff in your left pockets are for Steve: the asthma cigarettes that Steve could never afford, a dime for that popcorn that Steve likes, tickets for whatever shindig you’re trying to drag Steve along to. Sometimes you put things there for Steve and totally forget about it, like extra paper and a spare pencil in case Steve wants to doodle.  The left side always belongs to Steve.

Later: Steve is awfully quiet by the campfire.  You sit down by his good ear and reach into your left pocket.  “Hey,” you say, pulling out a news clipping about the war front that featured a lovely photo of Miss Carter.  “You read this yet?  They think Morita’s a Japanese defector, but the section on Dernier is priceless.”

———————-

Still later:

Report on the Winter Soldier reset procedures

After the latest test run, only the following anomalies remain:

A) The asset tends to hug the right walls and not the left, and hesitates for 30 microseconds before climbing stairs.  However, he does not hesitate when scaling walls or ladders.

B) When walking unopposed the asset has a characteristic and identifiable stride, which is dropped when he is making a covered approach.  

C) The asset communicates via relative locations, often omitting crucial color information.  However, he can be commanded to describe the colors of any object in impressive detail.

D) When dressing himself, the asset keeps his knives exclusively on his right side, and his left pockets are underutilized.  This may be an effect of continued unfamiliarity with the new left arm.

After extensive field testing, we have determined that these anomalies do not impede the asset from completing his missions, and declare the reset process complete.

—————————

[basically the textual partner to the colorblindness comic]

[The rest of my Captain America stuff]

This is perfect, and the thing I’ve been trying to think of how to write but so much better

msbeeinmybonnet:

Can we talk about this for moment? About what Sebastian Stan’s incredible acting gave us?

(I saw someone else mention this in passing in tags to a gif set, but I cannot for the life remember who or where. If anyone does, please tell me, because I can’t take credit for this brainflash.)

These are two moments we see the Winter Soldier when he’s not focused entirely on his mission, and both have chilling implications. In the first, he’s basically in a pit stop when he acts out in angry confusion and Pierce has to be called in to deliver a speech that goes from creepy to horrifying in hindsight.

Winter Soldier: The man on the bridge. Who was he?

Alexander Pierce: You met him earlier this week on another assignment.

Winter Soldier: I knew him.

Alexander Pierce: Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we’re giving it a push. But you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine. And HYDRA can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.

Winter Soldier: But I knew him.

At first, it just looks like Pierce is trying to smooth things over and get Winter Soldier “back on track”. But that’s when you realize Pierce is oddly… soothing. Calming. Explaining the situation in clear, easily understandable words. Praising the Winter Soldier. Gently guilting him into behaving.

Almost as if he was speaking to a child.

If you excuse me for a moment, I need to quell my nausea. … There, mostly done. But yes. I am saying that for all intents and purposes, the Winter Soldier is a child with the skill set of a fully-trained assassin.

There are several hints of this throughout the movie. Whenever something happens which pulls the Winter Soldier out of his hyper-focus on his mission, he gets flustered and angry, not unlike a toddler throwing a tantrum. Let’s look at how he reacts to Steve calling him Bucky.


He hesitates for a second (which is heartbreaking for a completely different reason) and then throws himself back into the mission, because missions are uncomplicated and safe.

It’s after this scene that we see the Winter Soldier at his “pit stop”. He is still hung up on this man he recognizes, who knew him, because it has never happened before. He turns to Pierce for answers, his voice is small, his body language is submissive. “Daddy, where did my bunny go?”

I fully believe this is Pierce’s design. It is probably a side effect of the constant mind-wiping which keeps the Winter Soldier stuck with the emotional range as a toddler. He’s effective, but erratic.

Then we have the scene on the helicarrier. Not only does the Winter Soldier not attack Steve first, he is pulling his punches. Please note that this is after he was mind-wiped again. He’s torn between his safe, uncomplicated Mission and the way his very bones scream at him to protect this man. He’s frayed and at the breaking point and when Steve keeps showing him kindness and friendship, he snaps.

As I’ve mentioned before, the Winter Soldier moves like a machine, efficient and with no unnecessary gestures. But when Steve calls him James Buchanan Barnes, all that shatters and the Winter Soldier just throws himself at Steve to pummel him and make him shut up. He is feeling so many things he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and it manifests as violent rage. You’re my mission he yells, trying to convince both himself and Steve. But look at Winter Soldier’s face when Steve says his famous line:


Apart from the shock, anger and confusion, we also see fear in the Winter Soldier’s eyes. Because this is entirely new, nothing he’s ever encountered before. He doesn’t know what to feel. He doesn’t know how to feel. It’s a heart-breakingly vulnerable expression which you last expect to see on a legendary assassin’s face.

(We’ll talk about Steve attempting to commit suicide another time.)

I think I need to stop here before I feel nauseas again, but I wanted to put this down so that it might leave me alone afterwards. I am still blown away by Sebastian Stan’s acting and how subtle it is, while still speaking volumes. It can’t have been easy to play the broken, shattered Winter Soldier this perfectly.

(gif sources: brigantes & kirknspock & glassconduit)

msbeeinmybonnet:

“Bucky!”

This hit me only today and I’m kicking myself for not seeing it sooner, but I’m also wondering why I haven’t seen anyone else scream about this? I guess it could be because I’m looking in the wrong places but I feel like this should be echoing all over fandom.

Bucky remembered Steve. Wait, no, not Bucky, the Winter Soldier remembered Steve.

‘The man on the bridge’ suddenly takes on a double meaning. The Winter Soldier isn’t only talking about the man he saw that day on the bridge in DC; he’s also asking about the man he saw in a memory flash, on a speeding train in the Alps. They look the same, they sound the same, they both called him Bucky. They must be the same.

I also think that it’s extraordinary that the Winter Soldier still has access to those memories. He remembers the last few seconds before a massive trauma, which is astonishing.

Another thing that hits me like a punch in the gut is how the Winter Soldier remembers Steve. He remembers the panicked shout and then how Steve desperately tries to reach him while hanging onto the railing. Steve is frantic and horrified, and it’s obvious that it’s because of the Winter Soldier. For some reason the Winter Soldier at one point in time inspired such an emotional response in another human being. Someone cared that much for him.

No wonder the Winter Soldier is so hung up on the man on the bridge. Not only do they have a history he can’t remember, but he also loved the Winter Soldier, which is an entirely new concept for the human-turned-weapon. And yet it feels right, it feels true.

But I knew him.

(gif source: trollux)

msbeeinmybonnet:

Part I

WARNING: explicit discussion of suicidal behaviour and all that entails

Still with me? Excellent, I have so much more heartbreak in store for you.

We left off with Steve escaping SHIELD custody after yet another death-defying stunt. From this point on, I actually don’t have much to comment on for a while. Steve continues being stupidly brave but not more so than normal. He has a mission now, and a responsibility to see it through, so he doesn’t take as many reckless risks as he has before. He knows that if he fails, there isn’t anyone else to pick up the slack; if he falls, it’s game over.

For example, when the missile hits Zola’s computer brain, Steve acts much less recklessly. He finds a possible hiding place, pulls Natasha with him and shields them both. I honestly suspect that if Steve hadn’t felt like he had a purpose, he would be more concerned with Natasha being safe than himself, instead of the 50/50 kind of thing we get in the movie.

But let’s flashforward to another turning point: the reveal that the Winter Soldier is actually Bucky Barnes.

image
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Oh man, I love that moment. It is perfectly shot and I have gushed about it before, especially about how the movie lets Steve be frozen with shock. Steve, who has fought tooth and nails to evade HYDRA capture, isn’t even present enough to get on his knees when ordered to by Rumlow. That is how shaken he is.

It was him. He looked right at me… He didn’t even know me.

And that is the moment Steve comes to his decision: the first priority is taking down SHIELD and HYDRA, because there is a quickly-approaching deadline on that. But the second that is taken care of, it’s Bucky. Only Bucky. He is going to save Bucky from HYDRA and won’t accept any other outcome. Failure through death is not an option, unless they die together.

But I’m getting ahead of myself again. Maria Hill is a BAMF and rescues the trio and takes them to the safehouse where they regroup and form a plan. And here is the next interesting thing. They are all preparing themselves for the final push, the hail mary, the now-or-never attack, and what does Steve do?

He thinks of Bucky.

image   image

He thinks of when Bucky promised him I’m with you til the end of the line, of Bucky offering to carry Steve on his shoulders. He doesn’t think of battle strategies, or of HYDRA, or even of the Winter Soldier. His world has narrowed down to Bucky, because when Steve decides on something, he gets the worst case of tunnel-vision known to man. He knows HYDRA must be stopped but it’s secondary to his quest to save Bucky; it’s only Steve’s sense of duty that keeps him from leaving HYDRA to the rest of the gang.

This marks a massive change. Earlier in the movie Steve recieved an external purpose; a responsibility was placed upon him which he felt he had to uphold out of duty. He is emotionally invested in it, of course, but it’s because of his ideals and beliefs and a little bit of hunger for revenge, as well as betrayal. Now that he knows Bucky is alive and held captive, he gets an internal purpose; no-one has told him that he has to save Bucky, it’s something he tells himself. He is beyond emotionally invested in this purpose, his entire everything is invested in rescuing Bucky. It’s like the difference between an important assignment at work and the novel you write in your free time. In the former case, you do it because you know you should and people depend on you to do it. In the latter, you do it only for yourself and pour your heart and soul into the endeavour.

This is very important to remember as I move onto the scene on the helicarrier. Lots of things happen in-between, of course, but I won’t cover them here. Actually, I will not even go into detail on the fight itself either, because I’ve done that before and I will just once again direct you all to marlowe-tops’ masterpiece on the subject. No, what I want to focus on is what happens after Steve inserts the chip.

image   image

The first mission is done. HYDRA has been stopped. With the replacement of that chip, 12 million people have been saved. Steve’s mission is over.

Now there is only Bucky.

Bucky, whom Steve dives down to save, heedless of his own injuries, because Bucky is in danger. He doesn’t have to keep himself alive to complete his mission anymore; he only has to stay alive for Bucky. Which might not be long, considering the helicarrier is nose-diving into the Potomac.

I have no doubt that Steve is certain that Bucky is somewhere inside the Winter Soldier, but he probably thinks he’s rapidly running out of time to reach him before it’s a moot point. So what does he do? He throws the first fight in his life.

image   image

Steve: You know me.

Winter Soldier: No, I don’t!

Steve: Bucky. You’ve known me your whole life.

Steve: Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve: I’m not gonna fight you. You’re my friend.

Winter Soldier: You’re my mission!

Steve: Then finish it. ‘Cause I’m with you til the end of the line.

image   image

Look at him. He rolls with the punches. He accepts them and doesn’t make any attempt at defending himself. He tears off his helmet and declares his refusal to fight. He drops his shield into the Potomac because he has no more use for it. Bucky doesn’t need Captain America, he probably never did; he needs Steve.

So it’s going to be Steve.

Even when the Winter Soldier gives Steve the worst beating since his pre-serum days, Steve doesn’t so much as shield himself. He is offering himself to the punishment.

Because that’s what it is. Punishment. Penance, even. It’s fitting, actually, that it’s Bucky himself who punishes Steve for letting him die. I don’t even think Steve is self-loathingly enjoying the pain; he simply sees it as perfectly fair that he gets to feel a fraction of the hell Bucky has been put through.

And if that means he’ll go down in flames with Bucky… Well. He’s with him til the end of the line.

image
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Nothing will convince me that Steve wasn’t ready to die with Bucky in that moment. He didn’t even attempt to get either of them off the helicarrier; he let the Winter Soldier beat him black and blue while just lying down, because hurting Bucky is unthinkable. He only managed it before because at first he had no idea it was Bucky, and later he had to or innocents would die – and even then he pulled his punches. The look on Steve’s face during their previous fight is pure anguish because that is Bucky and he’s hurting him.

We also see an eerie kind of peace in Steve as he falls and later nearly drowns, and I don’t believe we can attribute all of it to Steve being halfway unconscious. Compare Steve’s fall to Bucky’s: Bucky was panicked, reaching out towards Steve and screaming, while Steve quietly falls with a limp body. The situations are different, yes, but usually you freak out at least a little bit when you suddenly find yourself falling.

But not Steve. Probably because he, again, sees it as fair. It has a nice kind of symmetry to it all, and as a movie buff, I’m sure Steve appreciates narrative parallels. (As to why he’s not screaming for Bucky who is still hanging on, my belief is that Steve can’t actually see him at that point and is assuming Bucky is falling as well.)

Then we have the beautifully shot underwater scene where the Winter Soldier saves Steve’s life. The last shot before the screen fades to black, when we see the metal arm reaching out to us, is a POV shot. This is very important to remember. It was Steve who saw the hand, not just us in the audience. This is subtly confirmed when Steve wakes up in the hospital bed, because he turns his head ever so slightly to the left, to the direction the Winter Soldier’s hand came from, the last thing he was aware of. He remembers being saved, and realizes the implications as he takes in the hospital room he lies in.

Which brings me to the end of the movie and, incidentally, my last point.

image

This scene marks the end of Steve’s personal arc during this movie. He turns down the offer of an external purpose – we’ve been data-mining HYDRA files, looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship – because he instead chooses his internal purpose – there’s something I’ve gotta do first. He no longer needs anyone to give him a purpose, because he’s found one himself.

At the start of this movie Steve was an isolated island, but now he’s found a bridge. It’s small and rickety and dangerous as all hell, but it leads to Bucky, and that makes it worth every risk. He’s also made friends that he feels he can trust, further anchoring him in this new world. It goes slowly, but he’s starting to build a new life here in this century. But most important of all, he feels he has a reason to live again.

Steve has a reason to live again, because it sure as hell isn’t going to be Captain America who rescues Bucky. It’s going to be that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight.

‘Cause I’m with you til the end of the line.

(gif sources: 1 piney49 & 2 brigantes & 3 kirknspock & 4 yourcannibalneighbour & 5-6 wintersoldir & 7-8 hiddlesy & 9 thenightshalllastforever & 10-13 brigantes & 14-15 maria-sokoli* & 16 yourcannibalneighbour)

*turns out they’re a plagiarism blog – please tell me if you know the original source!

msbeeinmybonnet:

(The title is the only facetious thing about this meta. You have been warned.)

WARNING: explicit discussion of suicidal behaviour and all that entails

Disclaimer: I have never been suicidal, so I might not the best person to write this meta; all I can draw from are my own experiences. For two years when I was a child I was steadily getting sicker in a mystery illness until it got to the point where I was expecting to die and stopped caring about it (but was upset that I wasn’t upset) – it was milk allergy, by the way, and I am obviously fine now. Then a few years later I had such a depressive period that while I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to live either. So I am using these and the stories I’ve heard and read about to extrapolate. If anything rings false, however, please message me and tell me so, because the last thing I want is to be hurtful on this subject.

(I’m breaking up this meta in two parts because it’s monster-sized and I don’t know how it got that way.)

I just want to start off with saying that I don’t believe that Steve is actively trying to kill himself during the course of The Winter Soldier, but rather doesn’t care if he survives or not. He is a self-destructive mess; there is an important distinction to be made there.

To go back a little in time, The Avengers pretty clearly established that Steve is suffering from PTSD and survivor’s guilt; even more so if you count the deleted scenes. After the adorably cute introduction scene in TWS we’re tempted to think that Steve has started to heal from the trauma, but I think the opposite is the case. The Steve we see chatting with Sam is just as much a shield as the vibranium one. Steve doesn’t want to be a bother, doesn’t want to burden anyone, so he puts on a brave face and smiles. I’m willing to bet money that he did exactly the same thing when he was younger and ill. Always seeing the positive side of things, no matter the situation.

The fact that Steve is not okay becomes painfully clear when he speaks to Sam after the VA meeting. First we have the fact that Steve completely understands where the vet who dodged for a plastic bag came from, but the thing that makes all the alarm bells go off is this part:

image   image

That little smile, combined with those flat eyes, are among the most tragic things I have ever seen. This is Steve confessing that he doesn’t see anything worth living for. But, in true Steve fashion, he says it with a smile.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Long before that scene at the VA meeting, we have the one at the Quinjet. Ho boy. We have Steve complaining about being Fury’s janitor, taking on the most dangerous job, cracking a very dark joke and jumping out of the ‘jet… without a parachute.

Now, the distribution of duty can be explained as Steve being his usual selfless self; he is after all the one most likely to survive taking out an entire deck of hostiles. But the bitterness, even when said with that sweet little smile of his, is worrisome and alarming. Steve has a very dry sense of humour, a not-immediately-obvious one that is amazing, but he isn’t bitter. Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so no, not really is not a typical Steve joke.

And then we have the fact that he jumps without a parachute. Don’t tell me he did it for practical reasons. He used a parachute back in ‘43, while the plane was being shot at, and he deliberately refrained from using one this time. That was a high-risk gamble; it payed off in the end, but the risk was Steve breaking an awful lot of bones or even dying on impact. That kind of behaviour is completely reckless.

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But let’s talk about the fight with Baltroc. When Baltroc taunts him about I thought you were more than a shield, Steve calmly puts it away and takes off his helmet. At first glance, this is another unnecessary risk Steve takes for no understandable reason. While I agree with that it’s definitely another alarm bell, I also think it goes deeper. There is an excellent meta by verysharpteeth that goes into the differences between Steve’s and the Winter Soldier’s masks, and points out that Steve’s helmet is removable whenever he chooses. And that’s what he does here; he chooses to remove Captain America and become Steve Rogers again. I suspect this is because he feels he is loosing grip of Steve; in this century, no-one knows Steve Rogers. No-one knows that sickly little kid who got beat up in alleyways because he had more honour than sense. No-one knows the artist who dreamt of living off his drawings even during the Depression because it was his passion. No-one knows the young man who was orphaned before turning 20 and watched his mother waste away in TB. No-one knows that behind the serum-enhanced body, it’s exactly the same kid there.

In this century, the only one people know is Captain America.

So I think that while the fight with Baltroc definitely has shades of Steve being passively self-destructive, I also think it’s about Steve clinging to his own identity, to Steve Rogers, the man behind the mask.

This continues in the scene at the Smithsonian. As Steve walks around the exhibit, he only skims past the entries about about himself, sometimes even ignoring them. The ones he linger at are of his friends; the Howling Commandos, Peggy, Bucky. Especially Bucky, who he – in Steve’s own mind – failed.

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I want to stop here for a moment. Another fabulous meta by philcoulson brings up how Steve has always been reckless with himself and how it probably is partly due to feeling like he logically should have died years ago and is thus desperate for his life to mean something. Taking this into account, one can hardly start to imagine the survivor’s guilt Steve must be feeling, particularly in regards to Bucky. Because unlike the other Howlers and Peggy, Bucky didn’t get to live a full life; he didn’t get to return home from war, he didn’t get to make a family, he didn’t get to grow old and bounce grandchildren on his knee. Bucky died in the line of duty, under Steve’s command, protecting Steve and Steve has still not forgiven himself for it and probably never will. Bucky was always a survivor; it should have been Steve who died on the train that day. That is what should have happened if the world was logical.

Instead Bucky died, leaving Steve alone and with enough rage and grief to turn from just wanting to fight bullies to actively avenging Bucky’s death. After Bucky’s death Steve goes off the rails in TFA, and he was skirting the line to start with.

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Something I won’t linger on, however, is how Steve runs after the Winter Soldier after Fury is shot, for the simple reason that it’s perfectly in-character for him. Stunts like that is what Steve does. He doesn’t like windows but does like jumping off things, this is a well-known fact.

No, the pivotal event in this scene is something else entirely. It’s the purpose Fury gives Steve. TWS is an amazing movie when it comes to thematic contrasts and mirrors, and here is another one I strangely haven’t seen a lot of talk about. Just like the Winter Soldier lives for his missions, so does Steve in this century. When Fury hands Steve that flashdrive, Steve gets a purpose in his life again. He has a world to protect, people to save, he has responsiblity and his actions matter again.

Unanchored by the absence of family and friends and a purpose in life, Steve is just as lost as the Winter Soldier is between missions. They are both men out of time, living in isolation. They are men that are actually islands.

But. This starts to change, however temporarily, when Steve gets this new purpose. He sets out to save the world once again, because it’s what he does. He investigates, he gets in trouble, he regroups. But let’s pause here for a moment.

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This scene always makes me bite my lip. On one hand, Steve is amazing and in his element, fighting-wise, and it’s a joy to watch. On the other hand, taking into account his previous behaviour, it’s also worrying. I am referring especially to his leap of faith from the lift.

The logistics of that jump has already been pointed out by ellidfics and scifigrl47 but it still stuns me. I understand that Steve was very much between a rock and a hard place – jump out or face an armed elite squad – but it was still another insane gamble with high stakes. Like I’ve said before, Steve is incredibly reckless with himself in this movie. That is not to say his strategic mind isn’t brilliant or that he is in any way stupid, just that self-preservation seems to be even lower on his priority list than before.

I think I will cut here and direct you to part two of his (way too long) meta, which will feature Steve’s fight against the Winter Soldier, the entire helicarrier scene and a surprisingly positive look at the ending of TWS. No, really, I’m serious.

Part II

(gif sources: 1 commandersass & 2 msfili & 3 tochi-tanis & 4 yourcannibalneighbour & 5-6 thenightshalllastforever & 7-8 msfili X & 9-10 tochi-tanis & 11 karyn-filmfanatic & 12-13 thxwintersoldier)