#command. | meme

hang a character-shaming sign on my muse. || accepting.

send me a heart for my muse’s reaction to yours giving them a kiss… || accepting.

💜 …because they are horny

It was new to the RK900 to have so much emotion - he’d had to learn to push thought and feeling away, to repress them, in order to survive. Feelings burned within him like an acid, eating away at the cold, calm facade he kept up even now.

He’d been programmed, coded to keep his wants and desires to himself - the mission had always mattered more than anything. Now, he could think for himself. So many people had told him that. He was free to do what he wanted, to follow his own orders; his days of obedience were over.

Desires. He could have them now, and have them he did - they were so new and he felt them so deeply, so passionately, the thirium in his synthetic veins almost burned. Pure animalistic urges. Perhaps he wasn’t free of his bloodhound programming.

The attraction between himself and Simon was unspoken, almost as if he was hesitant to put voice to his feelings. Caleb was a being of actions, not words - he valued physicality over vocal affirmation, although both meant something to him. So when the other kissed him out of desire, of need he could do nothing but melt into it and he didn’t hesitate. A hand gripped the back of the other’s head, fingers gripping his hair, hold gentle but firm to keep him in place - to keep him from leaving. His other hand was connected with Simon’s, synthetic skin melted into porcelain white, a faint blue glow as the two connected.

rough touch. || accepting.

23. your muse roughly kisses mine.

Deviants were impulsive creatures. Idiotically heroic, martyred. The two were alone, sparring - fighting, cornered, in a back alley of Detroit. One stopping at nothing to eradicate a disease, the other fighting to live. Ruthless protocol met a pathetic act of desperation.

The other suddenly latched onto his shirt collar, pushing him against the wall, his vice-like grip meaning the taller android couldn’t break free despite struggle. His instinct was to reach for his gun; but he was thrown off suddenly - ice cold eyes widened as the deviant pulled him closer and synthetic lips locked in a rough, passionate, desperate kiss. Was this a part of a plan?

nonsexual acts of intimacy. || accepting.

♡ : accidentally falling asleep together.

Life was tiring. Being on edge constantly, the anxiety took its toll. All Caleb wanted was peace and freedom.

Androids didn’t need sleep, least of all himself - but he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t welcome it. He’d finally got a chance to relax, and he found himself...drowsy. Resting his head on the other android’s shoulder as they sat together in calm silence, without realising he had drifted off...

LED flashed briefly red. He’d let his guard down. Eyes snapping awake after a brief pause, he turned his attention to the other - who was peacefully asleep, slumped against him.