Hello sweethearts, gather around because we are about to spill some serious anti-hero tea: Thunderbolts vs Suicide Squad. Marvel dropped Thunderbolts, DC’s got the Suicide Squad on speed dial, and both franchises are asking one major question:
Can the bad guys actually save the day, and look good doing it?
Now, I’m not talking about redemption arcs alone. I’m talking chemistry, costume coordination, emotional damage, and a whole lot of government manipulation. These two squads are giving us everything from moody team-ups to morally grey chaos, and I am so here for it.
But let’s not pretend this is a straight-up copy-paste job with different logos slapped on. No, honey, Thunderbolts and Suicide Squad might live in the same zip code of comic tropes, but they are not shopping from the same rack. One is grunge glamour with feelings. The other? Unhinged punk couture and explosive accessories.
So buckle up, my lovely geeks, because we’re going side-by-side, Marvel vs. DC, trench coats vs. neon leather, trauma bonding vs. ticking time bombs. Let’s find out which squad truly slays.
Warning: There are Spoilers!

As of May 2025, Marvel’s Thunderbolts has already pulled in over $278 million worldwide (the numbers), not too shabby for a gang of rebranded misfits. Meanwhile, Suicide Squad still holds court as the chaotic darling of DC’s anti-hero line-up, proving that audiences really do love a beautifully broken crew.
How They Get the Bad Guys: Motivation and Recruitment
Let’s start with the messy business of recruitment, sweethearts, or as I like to call it, “How to Convince Criminals to Play Nice Without Killing You.”
On the DC side, we have Amanda Waller, who is the literal embodiment of a designer heel that stabs. Her vibe? Sharp, ruthless, and absolutely no chill. If you mess up on her watch? Boom. Neck goes pop. The Suicide Squad isn’t volunteering out of the goodness of their hearts, they’re doing it because Waller has her finger on the detonator and a folder full of dirt on every one of them. Motivation? Fear, baby. And the hope of shaving a few years off their sentence if they survive.
Now slide on over to Marvel’s Thunderbolts, and the vibe shifts. This crew? It’s less “join or die” and more “trauma bonding in matching tactical wear.” Valentina Allegra de Fontaine plays her cards closer to the vest; she’s not dropping bombs in necks, she’s dropping offers that hit where it hurts: guilt, regret, lost purpose. Yelena’s haunted. Bucky’s exhausted. U.S. Agent wants to matter again. She taps into all of that, using whispers and soft leashes instead of explosives.
It’s coercion, yes, but with nuance. Like a poisoned cocktail served in a crystal flute.
So while Suicide Squad is forced compliance through high-stakes brutality, Thunderbolts gives us emotionally manipulated consent wrapped in government-grade gaslighting. Honestly? Both are terrifying. But also? Fascinating.

Team Chemistry, or Lack Thereof: Dynamics and Cohesion
Alright, let’s talk vibes.
If you throw a bunch of criminals into a room, give them weapons, and dangle death over their heads, you get the Suicide Squad. Team cohesion? Please. It’s chaos with a splash of mayhem and a pinch of “I will absolutely betray you if it gets me out alive.” Waller rules with fear, so trust is… let’s just say off the menu. Sure, you get sparks of connection, a bonding moment here, a sacrifice there, but it’s all stitched together with duct tape and daddy issues.
Thunderbolts, on the other hand? It’s a dysfunctional family with better lighting.
You’ve got existing relationships, Yelena and Red Guardian bringing the messy-but-lovable father-daughter energy, Bucky trying not to murder anyone before coffee, and U.S. Agent pretending he’s not constantly two seconds from a breakdown. These people aren’t besties, but there’s groundwork. Shared trauma, second chances, and a glimmer of actual teamwork bubbling under the surface.
Think of Suicide Squad as a group project where everyone hates each other but still wants the A. Thunderbolts? They’re more like reluctant roommates trying to rebuild their lives with a pile of emotional baggage and maybe one group therapy session too many.
Both teams are volatile. But while Suicide Squad is a powder keg waiting for someone to light the match, Thunderbolts is a slow burn, emotionally unstable, morally grey, and weirdly endearing.
One’s chaos. The other’s complicated. And both? Iconic in their own messed-up way.
Who’s Really in Charge? The Nature of Government Control
Okay sweethearts, let’s pull back the curtain and see who’s holding the strings, because these teams may be full of anti-heroes, but make no mistake, somebody is calling the shots. And that somebody? Whew. Let’s just say it’s giving big “fashion house creative director who may also be a supervillain” energy.
In DC’s corner, we’ve got Amanda Waller. Queen of control. CEO of threats. The human equivalent of a military-grade stiletto. Her leadership style is simple: fear. You step out of line? You die. You question her authority? You still die. She’s not running a team, she’s running a hostage situation in matching uniforms.
And honestly? It works. Terrifyingly well.
Marvel’s got Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. She’s not nearly as loud about it, but don’t let the sleek power blazer fool you, she’s just as manipulative, only with style. Where Waller kicks down the door, Val whispers through the keyhole. Her control is all about soft power: whispered promises, strategic guilt-tripping, a little existential manipulation served with a smirk. She’s that boss who compliments your outfit right before throwing you under the bus.
Waller is a hammer. Val is a scalpel. But both are carving these teams into the shape they want, not for the good of the world, but to serve their vision of control, order, and a little political leverage on the side.
So who’s really in charge? Not the teams, sweetie. Never the teams.
Setting the Mood: Tone and Style on Screen
Alright my stylish geeks, let’s talk vibe check. Because tone? Tone is everything. It’s the difference between haute couture and fast fashion, between a slow-burn noir and an explosive midnight rave. And these two franchises? They’re working very different runways.
Let’s start with the Suicide Squad. Whether it’s David Ayer’s gritty angst-fest or James Gunn’s chaotic gore party, the tone is loud, proud, and unbothered by your emotional stability. It’s edgy. It’s violent. It’s throwing glitter bombs and body parts with equal enthusiasm. The humor is dark. The pacing is reckless. And the message? “We’re all broken, and sometimes, that’s hilarious.”
It’s messy, self-aware, and sometimes shockingly sincere, like a punk rock concert that pauses mid-song for a therapy session. You don’t watch Suicide Squad. You survive it.
Now, enter Marvel’s Thunderbolts. And honey, it’s brooding. The jokes? Sharper. The color palette? Muted. The energy? Trauma-core. This isn’t your usual MCU quip-fest, it’s more like a support group accidentally got assigned a covert mission. The action is there, sure, but it’s soaked in emotional baggage, unresolved guilt, and a whole lot of “Are we the baddies?”
The real twist? Thunderbolts doesn’t run from the darkness, it walks right into it in slow motion with a melancholy soundtrack playing in the background. It leans into mental health themes, lets characters be messy and confused, and gives them space to break down without fixing everything in 20 minutes.
So yeah, while Suicide Squad is chaotic neutral with explosions, Thunderbolts is a sad-boy Pinterest board in military fatigues. Both are stylish in their own way. But the energy? Could not be more different.
More Than Just Villains? Character Alignment and Backstories
Alright sweethearts, let’s get to the emotional core of these chaotic teams. Because while both squads look like they just walked off the cover of “Ragtag Killers Monthly,” there’s a difference between being bad and being complicated.
And trust me, that distinction matters.
The Suicide Squad? Oh honey, they’re villains. Full stop. This is your collection of assassins, psychopaths, and career criminals who happen to be just useful enough to be weaponized. Harley Quinn is delightful, sure, but she’s also not above a little casual mayhem before brunch. These folks aren’t trying to redeem themselves. They’re trying to stay alive, get paid, and maybe stab someone who deserves it, or doesn’t. It’s all very accidental redemption arc meets unmedicated chaos.
Now, Marvel’s Thunderbolts? Whew. It’s layered like a fall fashion drop.
These are broken people who either used to be heroes or could’ve been if life didn’t punch them in the emotional gut. Yelena? Still haunted by a life she didn’t choose. Bucky? Trying to outrun decades of brainwashing and regret. Walker? A man begging for relevance and a shot at something better, preferably without a PR disaster this time.
They’re not saints. But they’re not straight-up villains either. It’s more “I made some terrible choices, but I’m in therapy now and trying to do better.” It’s that messy, mid-recovery energy that feels painfully real, and honestly? Beautiful.
Suicide Squad gives you villains pretending to be good. Thunderbolts gives you good people pretending they’re not broken. And that, my lovely geeks, is where the storytelling gets juicy.
Quick comic couture flashback: The Suicide Squad strutted onto the scene in Legends #3 (1987), while Marvel’s Thunderbolts made their shock-twist debut in Incredible Hulk #449 (1997). That first reveal? Total gasp-worthy drama. Imagine thinking you’re watching heroes… then realizing it’s a villain runway the whole time. Iconic.
Facing the Problem: Nature of the Threat
How these teams face danger says a lot about what kind of chaos they’re built for.
The Suicide Squad? They tend to go big. Think magical witch ladies, kaiju-sized starfish, and existential threats that look like they were dreamed up during a very weird acid trip. The enemies are loud, weird, and external. It’s like, “Hey, here’s a giant cosmic threat that nobody else wants to touch, let’s throw the criminals at it and see who survives.” The goal? Blow it up, save the world, don’t die (maybe).
It’s action blockbuster energy turned up to eleven, and honestly, kind of fabulous in its own unhinged way.
Now, Thunderbolts? Oh honey, it goes inward. Yes, they’ve got their share of big baddies, but the real threat? Trauma. Guilt. That gnawing voice in your head whispering, “You’ll never be more than what they made you.” The Sentry and the Void aren’t just comic-book monsters; they’re metaphors wrapped in muscle and emotional torment. It’s less “save the world,” more “can you survive yourself?”
This team isn’t just battling villains, they’re battling the mirror. The stakes are personal. The danger is internal. And the pain? Oh, it’s couture-level layered.
So while the Suicide Squad gets the Godzilla-sized threats, the Thunderbolts are fighting monsters made of memory, regret, and mental health spirals. Different energy, same high stakes, but the emotional resonance? Thunderbolts is serving drama with a side of existential dread.
Also? Rumor on the geek grapevine says we might be seeing more of Sentry’s darker side in upcoming MCU Phase 6 storylines, and if they handle The Void right? Sweethearts, we are in for a psychological thriller wrapped in spandex.
Thunderbolts vs Suicide Squad: A Different Kind of Bad Guys
So where does that leave us, sweethearts?
Both teams play in the same sandbox, criminals, killers, broken toys tossed into the fire and told to save the world. But the way they play? Oh, it’s night and day. Or more accurately, it’s combat boots vs. designer combat trauma.
The Suicide Squad is chaos incarnate. They’re explosive, hilarious, completely unfiltered, and not to be trusted. But that’s what makes them fun. They’re the walking disaster movie with a heart, a tiny, messy heart, beating somewhere under the bloodstains and sarcasm.
The Thunderbolts, meanwhile, are cut from a different fabric. Frayed edges. Military silhouettes. Emotions stitched into every panel. Their chaos isn’t loud, it’s quietly unraveling in the background while someone tries not to cry in tactical gear. And honestly? That kind of storytelling hits different.
You’re not choosing which team would win in a fight. You’re choosing a flavor of dysfunction.
Are you into stylish destruction with emotional whiplash (Thunderbolts)? Or do you crave full-throttle mayhem with a punchline and body count (Suicide Squad)?
For me? I’m riding with the Thunderbolts. Because sometimes, what slays the hardest… is the team that’s still learning how to live with their scars.
Stay stylish, and may your team-ups always be gloriously unhinged.
Kat ✨
So, what do you think about Thunderbolts vs Suicide Squad?