Parables of the Shepherd Boy

Robert Mapplethorpe Roleplay Blog (18+)

[horrifiied]

the photography of robert mapplethorpe

[bestiolin]

grimm's fairy tales for adults (1969)

[hissingfaunathedestroyer]

JEAN-MICHEL BASQUIAT BY ANDY WARHOL, 1985.

[reno-muse]

Robert Mapplethorpe sketch!

[takearideonthe-wildside]

Tommy looks at the bloodied tooth between his fingers, thinking to himself that he was grateful it’d been one from the back lest he end up missing a front tooth and looking like he should belong somewhere in the deep south with a cousin for a wife. The thought makes him giggle to himself although that was probably more so brought on by the slowly creeping effects of said mystery pill, an empty stomach and a cocktail of drugs meant the codeine laced treat was going to hit him like a ton of bricks quickly.

Now heavy-lidded eyes turn to Robert when he speaks up, smirking again when he requests the tooth. He wasn’t surprised, the other already had a collection of strange artifacts and trinkets that decorated the studios every corner - why would his own tooth be any different. Tommy teases Robert, lifting his arm higher when he reaches for it and staying silent as Robert explains his revenge plans, his words both sweet and sinister.

“There was a lot of them and there’s only two of us,” The boy states, smirk still ever firm upon his lips. “Honestly, it’s fine Robert, it isn’t the first and won’t be the last time I get into a fight over some stupid bullshit. I just, uh, bit off a bit more than I could chew this time so the odds were against me.” He looses a little shrug, not wanting to delve too much into why the fight started in the first place. Finally he moves to make his unusual trade by handing over the crimson tinted tooth and taking the bottle he is offered.

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you trying to finish the job yourself?!” Tommy laughs after almost choking upon the liquid hitting his throat, having been blissfully unaware of how strong the liquor actually was. At least it’d sterilise the wound.

[sublime-satyr]

“It’s New York’s finest bottom- shelf moonshine,” he croons, though his full attention is on the tooth, heart a flutter now that it’s in his possession, twisting it between his fingertips as the evening sun ricochets off its crevices, “if I wanted to finish the job, I could come up with more imaginative ways than that- maybe once I harvest a few more body parts. And for that, I’ll need you alive a little bit longer.”

His gaze flashes menacingly onto Tommy as he leans into him momentarily, bringing his teeth to playfully bite along his shoulder towards his nape, the molar still clutched tightly in his fist.  He rips away from him just as fast as if suddenly alit by flames, tearing away from the couch with urgency as he pockets his trophy to start rifling through some cabinets and drawers. 

“I know you say don’t bother but I can’t in good conscience let these deviants off the hook,” he explains, emerging with a box of chalk and an armful of candles, a few white cylinders spilling to the floor, “I want their spines to crumble under the weight of spiteful demons and their heels to bleed from the jaws of Hell Hounds. Trust me. I cursed this one trick who stole a fifty from me and I heard he got syphilis a few weeks later. It might not work right away but sometimes karma is a slow death…”

Robert gets on his hands and knees, arching his unsteady and jittery form over blood-streaked floorboards, grabbing a fallen piece of chalk to shakily start sketching a pentagram. His wrist flicks furiously as he outlines it again and again like a man possessed, fixated on the irony of fighting evil with evil.

[389]

by Marco Gehlhar

[70sgroovy]

polaroids by andy warhol

[takearideonthe-wildside]

The boys head tilts back up in curiosity when Robert insists he needn’t bother with the clean up ritual, sore eyes watching as the other manoeuvres himself to slide the lighter back into his pocket - smirking to himself, finding it funny that despite the pain his mind can still find a second for primal urges to swirl themselves around his brain. Maybe it was the masochistic tendencies inside him, something he’d only recently delved into.

“I was thinking just the same y’know.” Piss art, he’d forgotten about that, then again he hadn’t been involved in that venture but he remembers the stories. Again hazel eyes flick to whatever the other removed from his pocket, soon realising just what Robert had procured whilst he was still prodding his back teeth.

“Brutal streets,” Tommy laughs repeating. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” Was it? Considering the adrenaline had already been mixed with half the hidden bag of coke tucked away in his pocket on the way home. Free hand delves into the pill box, following suit and slipping one of the mystery tablets under his tongue, fuck was he about to feel a whole lot better. Another drag of his cigarette was taken before the same hand now delved into his mouth, digits shifting something from side to side before a somewhat muffled-strangled noise escaped his chest and then a freshly plucked tooth is revealed.

There was certainly no lying about a ‘fall’ now, not that he thought Robert believed him anyway, he wasn’t stupid.

“Shit.”

[sublime-satyr]

Robert remains dutifully curled beside Tommy in utter fixation of his plight, irises cannibalizing pupils as he looks on dreamily, swearing to God he can hear the mangled roots of that tooth separate from its bloody gum bed like snapping violin strings. He beholds the ivory trinket Tommy clutches between his fingertips, coveting the ensanguined morsel immediately, his cheek pressing into the side of the couch as he witnesses the scene unfolding before him in all of its gruesome magnificence. 

“Haha– shit, “ he repeats under his breath, his arm extending to reach for the tooth, fingertips grazing Tommy’s with vulturous intent, “can I see it? It’ll be perfect to use for the hex we’re going to put on whoever’s done this.  And if that doesn’t work, I’ll crawl through the city to find them myself and gut them like the pigs they are.” 

His stare is alight with madness and whether the threats are idle is yet to be determined but he feels the thrill of spinning revenge plots in his blood, his wasted veins being brought to a rapid boil at the thought of menacing the neighborhood with his switchblade as he seeks justice.  Or maybe making the tooth into an earring would suffice- the evening was still premature with their fates left up to the roulette game in their systems.

“Tommy, I swear to you, we’ll get them back,” he hisses with deluded devotion, the arm not beseeching possession of the tooth swinging sideways to snatch a bottle of Everclear, taking a dramatic swig before bringing it to his companion’s lips imitating the sanctimony of a priest giving sacrament. 

[sublime-satyr]

@takearideonthe-wildside [ x ]

“Leave it,” Robert almost insists, his hips bucking upward in a grotesque thrust to sheathe his lighter, the sight of the crimson marring previously debauched floors somehow setting his universe back into some kind of order. 

He turns on his side to study him again, his starved frame jigsawing against Tommy’s, convinced he can hear his screaming nerves and spotting like a vulture the telltale tonguing of a loose tooth. The other’s pain is almost visceral as he fights against the sedatives in his blood in favor of this new, more interesting, venture- a literal writhing canvas of agony.

“It’ll complement all the piss art,” he adds, his eyes rolling slowly away to a front pocket from which he fishes a pill box, its top bedazzled with tiny baubles that wreathe around an ivory depiction of Cerberus. He flicks it open to reveal a menagerie of opioids he’s collected from visiting friends at hospitals, once regarded by Patti as the world’s smallest but most potent medicine cabinet. 

“Let’s commiserate together as we contemplate how we’ll get revenge on those brutal…streets,” he says with a seductive hiss, haphazardly slotting one of the mystery tablets under his tongue as a chaser to whatever he’s taken earlier, the box’s lid still open like some kind of grand romantic gesture.

[takearideonthe-wildside]

@sublime-satyr | [x]

The boys eyes roll at the others comments, a small smirk playing on his lips however. He knew he wouldn’t be able to lie for all that much longer, he could already practically feel the purple hues forming around one of his eyes as he rubbed it. The blood had been accidentally spat across the floor when he coughed, fairly certain one of his back teeth had dislodged - that or the tender flesh of his inner cheek had been caught in the crossfire.

Tommy had been on his way to the studio, only having been pulled from racing thoughts by a slur being shouted in his direction. Despite his well-acted confidence he struggled almost daily with his own mind in regards to his sexuality, the way he acted, how he dressed, nevermind somebody else daring to question it. The boy had seen red in those giggling faces, marching over and retaliating in spat words and a threat only to be met with multiple men stepping from the shadows who were more than happy to jump in on a fight. He fought well but not well enough, and now he was here.

“There’s no need for a visit there,” He murmurs, hiding the wince as he stretches out, fingers delving into leather and retrieving a cigarette. “I just tripped, fell, y'know how it is in heels.” Head tilting to look at the now blood stained Cubans that adorned his feet.

“I’m fine.”

[sublime-satyr]

Robert would suddenly pivot towards the door and bolt it shut, a flimsy but tactical effort in his mind to thwart whatever demon that had descended upon Tommy from finishing the job, at least temporarily. Then he meanders towards the couch, dread ebbing under the illusion of control, slinking beside Tommy as a skeptical sigh escapes him. He's momentarily distracted as he watches the leather of Tommy's jacket fornicate with the mirroring dunes of his couch, mesmerized by the obsidian folds collapsing into eachother.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," He'd muse, his gaze stalking the halo of pain materializing around Tommy's eye and then to the splatter levitating in contrast on the floorboards below, "..." He trails off instead, a rare act of benevolence staves off a cruel jab at the boy's blatant deception. Or perhaps he's just more keen on other, more drawn out, methods of extraction.

His long fingertips deftly pluck out a corroded lighter from the cramped bowels of an impossibly tight pocket, the flame emitting a low growl as it swells between them in offering. And it's not only Robert's eyes that accost Tommy with morbid curiosty, but also the vacuous sockets from the bleached skulls of ritual damned creatures perched atop his mantle.

[irreparableinnocence]

Orgasm denial. Orgasm anger. Orgasm bargaining. Orgasm depression and orgasm acceptance.

[mysharona1987]

To be fair, Andy Warhol would have appreciated Sister Wendy, esteemed art critic nun, coming savagely for him on BBC TV.

[tomorrowillbeyou]

Whatever *sticks my dick in the gap between who you are and who you portray yourself as*

[sublime-satyr]

" It's not that bad, really... "

"Then where's the blood coming from?! It's like Carravagio came on my floor" his remarks are punctuated by incredulous laughter but panic is welling up though atmopsheres of inebriation "if you show me, we can avoid the ER". A desperate prayer as paranoia strikes like a match to flint.

[memepocalypse]

Hidden Injuries

"Wait - you're bleeding."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Okay, I have you, I have you -"

"Don't you dare pass out on me."

"You good? You look a little pale."

"Your shirt... is that blood?"

"Oh, my god, are you serious? I think it's broken!"

"Why would you hide this from us?!"

"Okay - okay, breathe. We're going to help you."

"You idiot! You could have died!"

"I'm - I'm calling an ambulance -"

"Why are you breathing so shallowly?"

"You can barely stand."

"Sit down. Right now."

"I'm going to fix you up, but you have to sit still."

"I've had worse."

"It's not that bad, really..."

"I'm just a little... light headed...."

"It's barely bleeding at all."

"Aw, man, I liked this shirt."

"Oh, yeah that's... huh. That's a lot of blood."

"I'm just gonna sit right here... for a minute..."

"My chest really... hurts..."

"I can't really breathe -"

"Ow. It's fine. Ow."

"I can handle it myself."

"Oh, that? Yeah it's just... it's just a little blood..."

"Barely touched me."

"Why are there two of you?"

"I'll be fine. I'm great. I'm - I'm fantastic. Don't worry about me! I'm just gonna go... into this really nice... warm light..."

[mischon]

Peter Hujar - Orgasmic Man (1969)

[devilsrph-deactivated20250803]

†  𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙵𝙵  /  𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚆𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽  sentence  starters  . . .  featuring  a bunch of  sentence  starters  packed  with  a  bit  of  a  deadly  gunslinger  punch.  please  use  as  purposed,  do  not  replicate  or  alter  for  any  reason.  enjoy!

“ you make me pull, i'll put you down. ” “ you and me. right here, right now. ” “ last chance to walk away, friend. ” “ i'd think real hard about what comes next if i were you. ” “ been waiting a long time for this moment. ” “ it only takes one bullet. ” “ you look like someone who don't plan on leavin' here upright. ” “ clock's tickin'. make your move. ” “ we both know how this ends. ” “ i was just startin' to like you. ” “ you came all this way just to die in the dust. ” “ it's a damn shame, really. ” “ you've got five seconds to reconsider, before they'll be scrapin' pieces of you off the street. ” “ you drew first. ” “ you can lower you gun, and we can walk away. ” “ they'll write songs of today. ” “ you don't look ready to die. ” “ ain't no shame in backin' down. ” “ go on, then. ” “ you really think you'll leave here alive? ” “ that iron ain't just for show, is it? ” “ sun's gettin' low, partner. ” “ you. me. at noon. ” “ you sure you got the guts for this? ” “ last time someone stood where you are, they left in a pine box. ” “ i hope you said your prayers. ” “ bet you're rethinking your choices right about now. ” “ you got one shot, best make it count. ” “ want me dead? you're gonna have to earn it. ” “ knew this day would come. ” “ you look nervous. i don't blame you. ” “ been a long time coming, hasn't it? ” “ reckon we'll find out who the better shot is. ” “ i don't miss. ” “ any last words? ” “ i don't want to kill you, but i will. ” “ you wouldn't shoot an unarmed man, would you? ” “ go on, make me regret this. ” “ hot lead... that's how this ends? ” “ we settle this now, or we don't settle it at all. ” “ the difference between you 'n i? i ain't afraid to pull the trigger. ” “ funny, i always figured i'd be the one burying you. ” “ revenge don't taste as sweet as you think. ” “ your move, partner. ” “ ain't a soul here who will mourn you. ” “ shoot me. ” “ you were always too slow. ” “ you've already got the blood on your hands. what's a little more? ” “ if you're gonna shoot, then shoot. ” “ can't say i'll miss you. ” “ let's see if you can back up all that talk. ” “ we don't have to end it this way. ” “ one step closer, and i'll shoot you. ”