#batman villains

[snow-bees]

Rogues posting again

+Harlivy as Shrek 💀💀

[peach-artblog]

Animated Series Riddler I love you, you’re my everything

[pinkninjaarts]

Mad Hatter has your mind.

[thissnakecanbake]

Fever

Gotham ||| Jonathan Crane/Danny Fenton ||| long fic |||

POV Jonathan Crane

Words: 413

I can’t get up.

My body aches, my head pounds, and no matter how much I try to will myself to move, I can’t. My limbs feel heavy, my skin burns and chills at the same time, and exhaustion presses down on me like a weight I can’t shake.

I don’t know how long I’ve been like this. A day? More? It’s been building for a while, but I ignored it. Danny has already done so much—I didn’t want to be a burden.

I squeeze my eyes shut. The light filtering through the curtains is too much. My breath comes shallow, my throat raw and dry.

Then, a knock at the door.

I barely react.

Danny’s voice follows, gentle but firm. “Jonathan? Can I come in?”

I swallow, forcing my lips to part. “...Yes.”

The door opens quietly. I don’t have the strength to turn my head, but I hear Danny’s steps, slow and measured as he crosses the room. There’s a pause, then a shift in the air as he gets closer.

“Jonathan,” Danny says, voice suddenly filled with worry.

A second later, the bed dips slightly near my side. I force my eyes open just enough to see him sitting on the edge, his usual unreadable calm cracking at the edges.

His gaze sweeps over me before settling on my face. “Can I feel your forehead?”

I hesitate, but nod weakly.

Danny’s hand is cool against my burning skin. I shudder at the contrast, my body betraying how miserable I feel. His brows furrow, concern settling deeper into his features.

“You have a fever,” he says, and I can hear the certainty in his voice.

I don’t respond. There’s nothing to say.

Danny exhales quietly, then straightens. “I’ll make you some elderberry tea with honey,” he says, his voice taking on a tone of quiet determination. “And chicken and tortellini soup. It’ll help.”

I blink up at him, confused.

I expected… I don’t know. Annoyance? Frustration? Something that would tell me I’d made a mistake by letting him see me like this. But there’s none of that. Just concern, steady and unshaken.

Danny meets my gaze, something soft in his expression. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, okay?”

I don’t have the energy to respond, but I don’t need to. Danny gives me one last look before standing, his movements smooth and assured. Then he turns, heading for the door.

As he leaves, I let my eyes drift shut again.

[arkhams-finestau]

heres my AU two face ( theres not much difference from this and his regular design its mostly his story where i spiced things up) if all goes well in editing then you can watch a speed paint for this pic over at

[latverianpaparazzi]

[honorrry]

I watched

Batman Caped Crusader

Just for Oswalda

OF COURSE I HAVE DOODLES GANG

[zhelin-thames]

The Joker was ranting again, his shrill laughter echoing off the walls of the Justice League’s holding cells. Danny Fenton—or as they knew him, the Ghost King—leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a scowl etched on his face. The tension in the room was palpable, the League standing by in case the infamous clown decided to get creative. But Danny wasn’t worried. He’d dealt with worse.

“You think you’re so scary, huh?” Danny muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. The Joker’s grin faltered for a split second before he burst into laughter again, clearly unfazed—or pretending to be. Danny rolled his eyes. “Pathetic. You’re just loud and messy. Real fear doesn’t need a laugh track.”

The room went silent. Superman shifted uncomfortably, glancing between Danny and the Joker. Batman’s eyes narrowed, taking in the Ghost King’s uncharacteristic venom.

It wasn’t that Danny was usually chatty during these encounters, but his utter disdain for the Joker—his unwillingness to engage in anything more than curt dismissal—was becoming a pattern. Everyone noticed it, and no one dared ask. The Joker, for his part, didn’t push further. Something in Danny’s glowing green eyes made even him hesitate.

But when Jonathan Crane—the Scarecrow—was brought in a few weeks later, the mood shifted entirely.

Crane was quiet as he was escorted into a separate cell, his lanky frame hunched but his eyes sharp, calculating. The League had just wrapped up an exhausting mission to stop one of his fear toxin rampages, and they were still on edge. Crane didn’t bother with his usual monologues, which was unusual enough to make everyone uneasy.

Except Danny.

As soon as Danny saw Crane, he snorted. Loudly. The kind of derisive snort that made Wonder Woman glance his way in confusion. “This guy?” Danny said, pointing at Crane with his thumb. “Seriously?”

Crane’s head tilted ever so slightly, his curiosity piqued. “The Ghost King,” he said, his voice low and rasping. “A being of great power and…fear. How delightful.”

“Don’t,” Danny interrupted, holding up a hand. “Just don’t. Whatever you’re about to say, I’ve heard it before. And honestly? You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Crane blinked, caught off guard. “Embarrassing myself?”

Danny sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I get it. You’re all about fear. Big bad Scarecrow, master of terror, blah blah blah. But do you even know what fear is? Real fear? Because from where I’m standing, you’re just a guy with some glorified bug spray.”

The room went dead silent. Flash stifled a laugh. Batman’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering between Danny and Crane. The Scarecrow, however, didn’t seem angry. If anything, he looked…intrigued.

“And what,” Crane asked slowly, “would you consider real fear, Your Highness?”

Danny’s eyes glowed brighter, his voice dropping an octave. “Real fear is the kind that makes your soul ache. It’s the kind of fear that lingers in the dark corners of your mind, whispering that you’re not enough, that you’ll never be enough. It’s watching everything you love slip away and knowing you can’t stop it. It’s the void staring back at you and realizing it doesn’t care.”

He leaned forward, his face inches from the glass separating them. “Your little toxins? They’re cheap tricks. Flashy illusions. A waste of potential. You could actually do something with all your knowledge, but instead, you play Halloween in Gotham like some knockoff horror movie villain.”

Crane didn’t reply immediately. For once, he seemed at a loss for words. The others stared at Danny, half-impressed, half-confused. Even Batman’s ever-stoic expression had a flicker of something resembling surprise.

Finally, Crane chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Perhaps you’re right,” he admitted. “But fear, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Perhaps one day, you’ll see the artistry in my work.”

Danny scoffed again, turning to leave. “Don’t hold your breath, Doc. You’d pass out before you made anything actually scary.”

As Danny walked away, Superman stepped up beside him, lowering his voice. “You’ve faced worse, haven’t you?”

Danny shrugged. “I’ve been worse. That guy? He’s just a waste of scary.”

Superman frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Danny smirked, his eyes gleaming. “Stick around, Big Blue. Maybe one day I’ll show you.”

[mylifeingotham]

[indy829]

[goldfish-inhaler]

Jervis has a lot of feelings. Johnathan wishes all of those feelings were fear.

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Eartha Kitt as Catwoman - Batman (1967)

[peach-artblog]

[2-guns-b1tch]

I know it’s not pride month anymore, but I though this would be funny

[mythoughtfulwindow]

Talia PFP comm!