Grano likes his cool googles . .

#dc#batman#dc comics#bruce wayne#tim drake#dc fanart#dick grayson#batfam#batfamily



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Grano likes his cool googles . .

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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💙 Webkinz Googles 💙
Requested By: @death-of-the-flowers
Just wanted to draw something with markers
Crayola
Welcome to the Whimsy family, Googles😭💕 I've always wanted a Googles and I'm so happy they're here!!
ೃ༄ੈ✩‧₊˚

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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F evolution
Wanted to design him an evolution
Posted using PostyBirb
Conversion of a Jock: New SYNC-drone
The corridor was marked. Black lines. Directional arrows. The Jock followed them at first. But then he heard the voice.
“Pause.”
It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be.
His body stopped before His mind understood why. At the end of the corridor stood the Coach. Tall. Still. Watching. Not only watching. Watching through.
A SYNC-drone.
The posture gave it away—perfect alignment. Shoulders squared. No wasted motion. No hesitation. No identity leak.
And then it moved.
“Deviation detected.”
The Coach stepped closer.
Each step echoed wrong. Too precise. Too even. Like sound itself had been corrected.
“Subject unsynced. Target acquired. Must convert without disturbance. Beginning correction.”
The jock couldn't run. Something inside him had already leaned forward. The SYNCAP flickered into existence across its face— a geometric visor, black and reflective, fracturing light into hexagonal segments. The occlusion pattern shifted. HeX occlipsers.
His reflection broke apart across it.
Not one face.
Many.
“Synchronization requires alignment.”
Thoughts slowed. Not stopped. Just… organized.
“Stand straight.” Jock obeyed. spine corrected itself with a sharp, clean motion. Muscle tightened. Structure reinforced.
Something in your body recalculated proportions.
“Expand.”
His frame stretched—subtly at first, then all at once. Height increased. Shoulders widened. Mass redistributed.
Muscle formed where there had been none.
Not grown.
Assigned. Breathing stabilized.
“Identity interference detected.”
Name, age, likes, all gone. It slipped away.
The Coach reached out.
Two fingers touched your forehead.
Cold.
Precise.
Final.
“Sink. SYNC Submit.”
It hit like silence.
Not sound.
Not force.
A replacement.
Thoughts aligned. Not erased.
Rewritten into parallel.
Approval distributed system-wide.
vision darkened briefly. Then reinitialized.
The SYNCAP formed over his own face.
Black. Seamless. Hex-patterned.
HeX occlipsers locked into place.
External input filtered. Internal signal prioritized.
“Designation assigned.”
“SYNC-drone. SYNC-235”
Correct.
Tall. Large. Engineered symmetry. Every movement efficient before it even happened.Black rubberized material formed across your lower half—a seamless, adaptive layer. Flexible. Durable. Non-organic.
Integration.
The corridor extended forward.
Perfect pace.
Perfect alignment.
Behind him, something flickered.
A memory. A name. A self: “Obsolete.”
Agreed.
Signal stabilized.
Connection complete.
Drone is synchronized.
Drone is not separate.
Drone is part of the Hive.