#Vendetta (MF)

[radicalchad36]

Above is charlotte/vendetta pillow on how it started on January 25th looks new

Below is charlotte/vendetta pillow on how it’s going on august 1st it has a ripped bottom corner because insert/removed pillow case to wash but difficult to put it back in it’s still holds up very well within months

[stevefightmerogerss]

bucky barnes, for no reason at all: fuck steering wheels

[shit-taster-connoisseur]

Making fiends Nah Making Friends :)))

Swear to god this au has been bouncing around my head for so long. IDK how to have made Charlotte look evil-er, since MakingFriends isn't exactly a personality swap but like a dynamic swap from what ive seen.

Charlotte is just secretly terrifying:))))))))))

[lvrvenxs]

Me: I like Resident Evil: Vendetta for the plot!

The plot:

[six-eyed-samurai]

Mfs tryna convict me of shit I did apparently but won't tell me what my mfing crime is

[wherenymphsroam]

hello yes leon kennedy sir ur balls look heavy do you need a hand

[radicalchad36]

[alonsolobotomy]

thank you for being the one other person bar myself that calls V a Malewife, he was especially malewifey in the film

YESSIR HE WAS 🫵🫵 you're very welcome 😌

[wordsofwhimsy]

【Ｏｐｐｏｓｉｔｅｓ　

Ａｔｔｒａｃｔ】 - Part Nine

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice of life, some serious showboating, Mark's still geekin 'bout that damn dress

Word Count: 2,285

Chapter Synopsis: Jealous Mark being jealous and a little unhinged. We love him tho.

a/n: Kyle better watch his mf back, that’s all i’m finna say on it

Part Eight

He tried. Really he did. Tried his damnedest to relax, to be normal.

Mark sat in his bedroom with the blinds drawn, biting into a bag of discount pretzels with a bit too much ferocity. He’d even turned on a movie—something dumb and loud and full of explosions—but none of it was enough to keep him from picturing you. Picturing you in that dress. At a stadium. Surrounded by people. With Kyle.

He pictured the way you’d smiled. Smiled at him like you didn’t even realize what you were doing to him. Like you didn’t know that standing there looking like that, in front of him, might’ve actually been the end of Mark's already-fragile grip on sanity.

He so clearly pictured your boobs. Those soft, beautiful legs. You had no idea what kind of weapon-grade arsenal you were walking around with.

And now Kyle knew too.

Kyle, who didn’t even understand what he was dealing with. Who had no idea that this was your first real outing, that you’d never done something like this before, that you’d said yes because you were trying to be brave and open and—

God.

Mark groaned, head thudding back against the wall behind him. The drywall cracked a little.

You looked genuinely happy. That was the worst part. You were glowing in that stupid dress. Excited. Nervous. Glorious.

Mark dragged both hands through his hair, muttering a string of absolutely unhinged swears in a language that would’ve made most human ears bleed.

This was fine. Everything was fine. It wasn’t like he wanted to choke slam Kyle into the dugout or anything. It wasn’t like he wanted to fly straight to the stadium and insert himself into the date like some divine act of vengeance.

...Except that was exactly what he wanted.

The thought of you giggling at Kyle’s bad jokes, eating stadium nachos, maybe leaning over the railing to see the field better while Kyle stood behind you?

Absolutely not.

He stood up too fast, moving back and forth across his room. Mark wasn’t pacing. Pacing would imply restlessness. A lack of direction. No, he was strategizing—moving with purpose. And tension. And a very specific, deeply personal vendetta against pastel-colored clothing.

He needed a plan.

He turned abruptly toward the window, peeking through the blinds as he scanned the skyline. There had to be something going on near the stadium. A mission. A security issue. A minor alien invasion. Anything.

He yanked his communicator from his pocket. “Cecil.”

“Mark,” came the voice, dry and staticky. “What did you break now?”

“Nothing. Yet.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. “What’s the situation around the city? Any, I dunno… threats?”

“You’re calling in for patrol voluntarily?” Cecil asked, incredulous. “Who are you and what have you done with my least cooperative agent?”

Mark’s eye twitched. “Just answer the question.”

Cecil hummed, clearly suspicious. “Well… now that you mention it, there’s been some unusual energy signatures downtown. Not urgent, but weird enough to keep an eye on.”

Mark’s jaw set. Downtown. Close enough.

“Cool,” he said, already moving to gear up. “I’ll take it.”

“You sure you’re not stalking someone?”

Mark ended the call and zipped into his suit like he was going to war.

Because he was. Emotionally. Spiritually. Possibly physically, if Kyle so much as looked at you too long.

With his boots on and communicator clipped in his ear, he lifted his window and took one single breath.

He took to the sky fast, slicing through the clouds like he had a deadline for destruction. It wasn’t like he knew exactly where you were sitting—he wasn’t that unhinged. Probably. But the stadium was easy enough to find. Loud. Flashy. Crowded. Filled with people in cheap jerseys and overpriced hats.

He hated it already.

Mark landed on a nearby rooftop, crouched low beside an old vent, and surveyed the scene like a total lunatic. His communicator buzzed softly in his ear as Cecil chimed in again.

“Update: the energy spike moved closer to the stadium. You seeing anything?”

Mark narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd like a sniper. “Just civilians. Screaming. Eating corn dogs.”

“Sounds like your natural habitat.” Mark just grimaced.

Below, the crowds roared. Some guy in a mascot costume was doing cartwheels. People were chanting. A wave rippled through one section and died halfway around. None of it mattered. Not when he finally spotted you.

Mark’s jaw locked.

There you were. On the edge of a lower deck, drink in hand, laughing at something Kyle said like it was the funniest thing in the universe. And that dress? It was still on. Which meant your legs were still out. Your collarbones were still out. Your boobs were still out.

Mark was going to die. Not metaphorically. Literally.

He squinted his eyes as if it’d help him see better. He didn’t have a scope, but if he did it would’ve been locked on Kyle’s stupid, boyish face.

Mark muttered under his breath, “Say one more word, Kyle. One more fucking thing I swear to God...”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, fingers flexing at his sides. Control. Focus. This is about surveillance. That’s it. This isn’t about her laugh. Or the way she keeps brushing her hair behind her ear. Or the way Kyle just offered her his hoodie like he wasn’t a certified level-seven threat to national security—

His spiraling thoughts were snapped back into reality as he noticed Kyle make a catch.

A damn fly ball.

It was nothing. No real skill. No flashy move. Just some basic baseball shit. But you—you—reacted like he’d just pulled off a grand slam. Eyes wide, mouth open, practically glowing with excitement, cheering him on like he was some kind of god.

Mark’s blood turned to fire. Seriously? That was what had you so impressed? A fly ball?

His jaw clenched so tight it nearly hurt. He leaned against the edge of the roof, fists white-knuckling the metal as he stared down at you. The thought of Kyle getting that look from you made him want to snap something in half. It didn’t even make sense.

You had no idea what you were doing to him. None.

You were just happy. And that was fine. Great, even. But this? Kyle? No way.

Mark slammed his fist into the side of the building, leaving a small crater. He exhaled sharply, staring at you across the distance, and he suddenly felt like a switch had been flipped.

His muscles tensed, the urge to do something, anything, scratching at the back of his skull. And then, just like that, he was in motion. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the sheer jealousy pumping through his veins, but something told him he had to make his presence known.

He blasted into the sky without a second thought.

Mark didn’t bother to think it through. He didn’t need to. It was instinct. Something primal. He shot over the rooftops as the stadium grew closer, his eyes scanning the crowd for the one person that mattered. You.

And there you were—again, smiling at Kyle, your whole face lit up like you had stars in your eyes. That was it.

He was done.

With a speed that left the world behind, he swooped down to the field, landing with a deafening crash on the pitcher’s mound. The ground trembled beneath his feet, the air buzzing with electricity from the impact.

The crowd went dead silent.

Mark stood tall, eyes locked on you immediately. Your eyes widened when you saw him, your jaw dropping. There was no way you could’ve expected this.

The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, cutting through the stunned silence of the crowd.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe it, folks! Invincible is here to watch the game! I think he wants to throw out a pitch!”

Mark smirked, his gaze still locked on you, but the moment the announcer’s words echoed through the stadium, he knew it was time to step it up. He didn’t need an excuse. He didn’t need any permission. He was already in control of this situation.

A nervous-looking ball runner, probably no older than sixteen, jogged out toward him, holding a baseball in both hands like it was a fragile piece of glass. His eyes were wide, mouth opening and closing like he was going to say something, but nothing came out.

Mark looked at him for a beat, barely suppressing a grin. “Thanks, kid,” he said, taking the ball with a casual flick of his wrist.

The kid nodded, wide-eyed, clearly starstruck. Mark couldn't help but relish it, feeling that familiar rush of power. The kid was impressed—and that was exactly the kind of fuel Mark needed right now. His chest tightened with a sense of superiority, and all his frustration and raw need to one-up everyone around him funneled into that one, cocky throw.

He didn’t even look down at the kid anymore—he was beyond that. He rose up into the air, the stadium below him shrinking away with every foot he gained, until he was hovering just above the roofline. He could feel the eyes on him, the sharp intake of breath from the crowd.

Perfect.

With a flick of his wrist, Mark flung the ball forward like it was a pebble. The motion was so fluid, so natural, it was like he was simply tossing it to a friend across the street—but the speed? The force?

The ball shot off with a bang that could’ve made the sky crack open. It vanished into the distance, disappearing in an instant, so fast and hard that it seemed impossible. The stadium went dead quiet for a split second. Then, as the shockwave from the throw hit, the crowd’s collective gasp filled the air.

Not a single person had time to process what had just happened.

They were too busy watching the empty sky.

Then, as the seconds ticked by and people started whispering among themselves, Mark stayed still, face blank, eyes focused on the horizon. And then, just like that, he moved again—his head tilting slightly to the side, as if hearing a distant sound.

The ball—the one that had just orbited the entire planet—suddenly reappeared, coming right at him at Mach force speeds.

The crowd collectively froze.

Mark barely even looked at it. He raised his hand up, palm open, and without breaking his stance, plucked the ball right out of the air, as though it had simply returned to him like it was nothing more than a boomerang.

The stadium fell into complete silence, like the universe had stopped.

Mark casually tossed the ball in his hand, twirling it around his fingers as he lowered himself down a bit so he was in direct eyeline of the audience. He looked at the crowd, his smirk wide. His eyes locked on you—wide-eyed, mouth open in disbelief—and he winked.

The crowd erupted. Screams. Applause. Whistles. The entire stadium shook with the raw, collective energy of people who had just witnessed something impossible.

Then, without waiting for another reaction, Mark raised his hand in a half-wave and shot back up into the sky.

The stadium didn’t know whether to cheer or faint.

Reader’s POV

Kyle was still wide-eyed, his voice breaking through the noise of the crowd. “Holy shit! I can’t believe Invincible was just here! That was insane!”

You could barely focus on him. The entire stadium still felt like it was vibrating from Mark’s impossibly fast throw, and you were left staring at the spot where he'd disappeared into the sky. Your heart was racing, caught somewhere between awe and confusion. What the hell had just happened? Why had he done that? Was that just a random act of—what, showboating?

You shook your head slightly, trying to shake off the daze. Focus, you’re with Kyle, you reminded yourself. Don’t be weird.

“Yeah, I know right?” You tried to sound excited, jumping in with the hype. “That was... that was totally insane! I mean, who does that?” You laughed, even though your mind kept replaying Mark’s performance, his cocky grin, the way he just owned the entire stadium in seconds. And maybe you were crazy but you could’ve swore that he winked directly at you.

Kyle didn’t notice you drifting off into your own thoughts, still hyped on the high of witnessing something unbelievable. He kept talking about how cool it was, how insane it was to be in the same stadium as a superhero, and you nodded along. But something in the back of your mind was pulling at you. Something felt... off. Why had Mark done that?

You glanced at Kyle, who was still distracted by the crowd’s reactions, and quickly pulled out your phone. You hesitated for just a second, but then typed out three question marks, simple, unassuming, but clearly conveying your sentiment.

You:

???

You hit send, barely holding your breath. A moment later, your phone buzzed with his reply.

Mark: What?

You stared at the message incredulously – what?

You:

What was that?!

Mark: Just a little something to keep the crowd entertained.

You couldn’t help but to grin at his response as you quickly typed back a response.

You: Definitely think you’re a crowd favorite now!

Mark:Always have been.

———————

Part Ten

———————

Taglist! @maddyb-rapps | @sweet-3-whispers | @moradogreen | @rayaaa4444 | @luvvcharxo | @byteme05 | @rivalriotrenegade | @1abi | @onlybatsyy | @heiankyonoeiyuukun | @dillybuggg | @am-3-thyst | @mikevi

[countcait]

I've noticed that I disagree with much of the fandom on something...

(All gifs are by arcanegifs)

I don't think that revenge was ever the true motivator for Caitlyn in season 2. I don't doubt that she was experiencing rage and hatred toward Jinx, but I think that the driving force behind every decision she made in acts 1 and 2 was something else: fear.

During that period, the psychotic and wholly unpredictable terrorist that killed Caitlyn's mother was AT LARGE. She was liable to kill any number of other people, and Caitlyn knew that it would be her fault if she was unable to prevent it. Imagine the dread and the guilt and the overwhelming urgency she would have felt.

My own mom passed away from cancer when I was five, something that I was not remotely at fault for, yet I still suffered from crippling irrational guilt for years afterward.

If my mother had been murdered...

If I'd had the chance to prevent her murder, and the murder of several others, but I'd hesitated because someone I trusted begged me not to pull the trigger...

If every second after the fact was a potential second that the murderer could kill again...

If I'd suddenly found myself filling my mother's shoes and leading a city full of shifty oligarchs trying to manipulate me for their own gain...

If I was made into the face of justice for the murder victims... If the whole city was tapping their watches waiting for me to take the killer down...

I think I would liquify. My skeleton would give up and I'd be a jelly pile.

Incredibly, Cait was able to hide her panic behind a veneer of cool authority save for a few intense outbursts.

I think that Cait's emotionally repressed nature is part of why some people in the fandom so badly misinterpret her character. Maybe on a surface level, it's easy to read S2 Cait as a brooding vengeful bounty hunter archetype. A lot of people refer to Caitlyn's persuit of Jinx as being a "personal vendetta" and argue that Caitlyn's military presence in Zaun was done for purely selfish reasons.

But to me it's clear that Caitlyn was always trying to act in the interest of minimizing harm and avoiding casualties, even if some of her choices were misguided. Her strike team wasn't a way to personalize the takedown of the chem barons, it was conceived as an alternative to the deadly ground invasion that the council was planning.

Caitlyn was always scared that more people would die due to her inaction, that includes Piltovans and Zaunites.

If vengance had been Caitlyn's motivator, then she would have killed Jinx the moment that she surrendered at the commune. Instead, she was willing to entertain the idea that Jinx might no longer be a threat.

Caitlyn wasn't interested in killing a non-violent person. If Jinx was no longer dangerous, then her manhunt was done. Revenge was never her goal.

The last two times that Vi begged for Caitlyn to spare Jinx, all hell broke loose. Yet Caitlyn decided to respond to that one-two-punch PTSD trigger with a profound show of love. She was willing to let Vi free her mother's murderer, knowing that she'd likely never see either of them again. She thought it was worth it if it gave Vi the potential for happiness.

This is to say, Caitlyn's emotional intelligence is fucking legendary. She understandably harbored vengeful feelings toward Jinx, but she never let those emotions take control, and she was willing to give up her own chance at closure for the sake of someone else.

The fact that the weight of fear and responsibility deformed her for a period is no surprise. Desperation and urgency will drive a person to do all kinds of things, and Cait had a mountain of guilt and grief on top of that.

P.S. sorry for getting uncomfortably personal on a fandom sideblog, but my mom's on my mind given what day it is. I never would have thought that the league of legends cartoon would have me catching dead mother catharsis, but that's what uncommonly good TV writing does to a mf.

[talkingtothevoid67]

Why tf this dog literally hate me 😭

Damn, you should post something funny rn

[break-the-glass-block]

Philza is basically Odysseus cause like:

misses his wife

wants to go home

but this god has a petty vendetta against him

thankfully he is friends with this goddess

(said goddess is rivals with the god)

just a man

amazing archer

loves his wife

will do anything for his family

leads a crew of fools who like to piss off god

they fought a cyclops who hasnt forgotten them

known for his endurance

he just wants to go home

has either the worst or the best luck

likes clever cheaty ways but will just brute force

hospitable except for this large group of mfs

stuck on an island and cant leave

confused by the plot

he just wants to go home, man.

[doodler16]

"the hazbin hotel pilot is soft canon because the events of it set up the lore!" and then viv fucks it up by having katie killjoy meet charlie in s2.. instead of in the pilot.. which is the entire reason alastor comes to the hotel and brings husk and nifty to begin with.. because he saw charlie fist fight a reporter on TV..

it's even worse because it's so damn obvious that entire episode in s2 based on what little of the leaks we see is just gonna be: an episode projecting how people are mean to viv online and have a lot of allegations against her but secretly all the people doing it work for someone else who has a vendetta against her. she retconed the ENTIRE REASON THE SHOW STARTED TO BEGIN WITH just to make an episode about her feefees being hurt by a long list of people who have nothing to gain by publicly saying her name when making these allegations and arguably more to lose, like being blacklisted from the industry at worst, or at best, being qrted by 70 mfs named "stolas's stinky cloaca" going, "um i think you should shut the fuck up sweetie 🥰 and also mama viv would never hurt anyone ever which is why i'm going to work for her (oblivious)"

like this is why im so glad that s2 leaked (and hope it leaks more) because everytime there's some kind of stupid shitty writing decision in her shows, it sounds like the kind of thing i'd make up just to make her sound worse. like her having taxidermy peacocks or being a disney adult while her american teacher employee who's made TONS of show accurate merch and prints e-begs on twitter. if viv is so nice, why isn't erin hunter getting the 1000 dollar a week pay raise when she clearly needs it the most?

During Alastor’s advertisement in episode 1, Charlie briefly on screen on attempts to pitch her hotel to Katie which obviously went nowhere. As for that season 2 leak regarding Charlie doing the interview to get the truth out there, in retrospect I kind of respect her for at least addressing the “allegations.” Meanwhile, Vivziepop vague posts and when she doesn’t do that it’s her stans acting like a defense lawyer and PR agent.

[dandelionjack]

like i said on twitter, an italian 26 year old ivy league bisexual gym bro comp sci nerd-jock pokémon fan with bizarre radical-centrist beliefs a six pack vague incel/doomer energy despite being good looking and a personal vendetta against the healthcare system is pretty much the archetypal male new yorker i think. this mf could be spiderman

[wherenymphsroam]

I REALLY DO!! You have good skills I can't wait to see more!!!!

May I ask who are your favourite RE characters?

okay SOOOO obv leon got me into RE like,, earlier this year, but I didn’t rlly Get It until I saw I think ID Leon LMAO 😭

but since I’ve taken a dive into RE, I’ve found I just love the story line altogether, and the characters often if not always have great development and world building. Overall, I’d say I love love love Sherry, Chris, Claire, Sheva, Ada, Jill, Helena (god I’m so gay for that woman), Mia + Rosemary, and Piers !

[radicalchad36]

Another making fiends fanmade dvd cover made this one a year ago but this time it’s season 3

A dvd cover shown as charlotte riding a enlarged buttons 2 chasing vendetta after she mistakenly grew buttons 2 larger than an average bird