#Sting of Death

[finalproblem]

Sherlockian Wednesday Watchalongs: Oops, All Spoops!

The Elgin Hour: Sting of Death (1955 TV episode)

Boris Karloff stars as "Mr. Mycroft." He's just an old retired man helping solve bee-related crimes. Nothing else to it… right? 👀

We’ll watch and chat live at 8:30 pm US Eastern time (click for your local date/time).

Anyone is welcome to join us, even if you've randomly discovered this post. See you in The Giant Chat of Sumatra’s #giantchat Discord channel!

[thepopoptic]

Keep looking up.

[geekynerfherder]

Showcasing art from some of my favourite artists, and those that have attracted my attention, in the field of visual arts, including vintage; pulp; pop culture; books and comics; concert posters; fantastical and imaginative realism; classical; contemporary; new contemporary; pop surrealism; conceptual and illustration.

The art of Richard Amsel.

[evilherehotel]

ok heres my apology for fireafy movie posting. no more fireafy movie

freesmart is evil leafy’s #1 opp for the entire length of the competition. she tries to stay out of their drama (especially around bfdia 12-14 when the huge woah bunch/freesmart rivalry starts) but she cant help wanting to kill and murder them

theyre also just mean to her. they went from being scared of her to purposefully provoking/antagonizing her because it could keep her from becoming too close to people and even draw the ire of the viewers and get her out of the game.

the majority of her hatred is pointed at pencil, but she’s attacked book the most. her team has a tendency to leave her behind which makes her an easy target

at this point book is used to it.

[jerys]

thinking abt merlin through the ages contending with the fact that arthur is still so present in the land. in mythology in legend in fairytales told to children in books and films and countless other forms of memory. throughout the world he is remembered still, and yes it isn't really him they're remembering, it's the legend of him, the myth, the heroic fool's gold shimmer of his legacy. but he's still here.

[sleepyminty]

I think the entire young death mark/shibito casts will breakdown if yashiki ever pulls the ‘i’m not mad im just disappointed’ talk. Cuz if a kind man of both worlds started looking at me like a disappointed father i would evaporated

[kinokoshoujoart]

the coolest kids in forgotten valley!!☆

(…it seems there may have been a stretch of time where rock and lumina were the only kids in forgotten valley…🥲)

poseref

[greentea-and-honey]

starting 2025 off to a strong start with my dog of fifteen years dying 👍

[wiirocku]

1 Corinthians 15:55 (NKJV) - “O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory?”

[oobbbear]

Chapter 1 WIP ☎️

[lightningbig]

rambling continued from the tags on this post

thinking about a world where the kaminoans are able to bend death. well enough that the clones become effectively immortal. even when they die they don't, really. they will gasp awake again, always, a never ending cycle of life and breath and violence. they will bleed and they will fall apart but they will knit back together with enough time. they will not succumb to any wounds, not permanently.

this not even being questioned by the clones. its all they've ever known. its how they've been raised. brothers don't die, they sleep and come back. brothers don't die, they bleed and then they get better. brothers don't die, even when they're missing limbs, even when they change in irrevocable ways. the kaminoans have created an army that cannot be bested by mortality. they've created something infinite.

the first time they know death is when one of the trainers washes up, blue and bloated and half eaten by the marine life at the bottom of the sea. they'd been punishing brothers for increasingly mundane reasons in increasingly harsh ways, so they were given a taste of their own medicine. only, trainers don't come back. trainers don't get better. trainers don't live, despite it all.

the jedi, too, are mortal things. things that can die. things that get hurt and don't always heal. things that can benefit from exploiting brothers, from putting a clone in the way of a fatal shot any day.

some of them do. its whats expected. most of them don't. the clones don't understand. brothers dont die, don't they know?

[sacredwhores]

Kōhei Oguri - The Sting of Death (1990)

[sleepyfan-blog]

Incubation

Author’s note: Hello. The Typhus Botflies have never left. Here’s another chapter. Please, please mind the tags and ask me to tag something if it bothers you First. Previous. Next.

Tagged: @ms--lobotomy @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan 

Warnings: forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, body horror, manipulation, forced geneseed pregnancy, smut, poison, stinging insect mention

Summary: You wakeup in Typhus’ bed, on his flagship. You are miserable and he is happy to have his Little Isha by his side.

You awaken, once again, in a fetid, stinking, dimly lit room with a large pair of arms wrapped possessively around your body. Cold armored hands resting lightly against your distended belly. The deep, rumbling purr of your captor, his head resting on top of yours as he sleeps. 

Yet again, the dream that once was your life of freedom and power as a rogue trader fades from your mind. Bitterness and longing vie for dominance in your heart as you slowly wriggle your way out of Typhus’ grasp, as you urgently need to use the bathroom. The stench in here is far worse, and it takes all of your will not to throw up as you quickly do your business.

You catch sight of yourself in the grimy, filth-covered mirror and wince. Your skin is several shades paler, the bags under your eyes are deep, and there is a miserable and defeated look on your face that you hate. The geneseed that Typhus had implanted inside of you weeks ago has swollen in size, making it very difficult for you to walk.

Not for the first time, you are tempted to use your psyker abilities to rid yourself of the foul things growing within your womb… But your captor was frustratingly attuned to any miniscule warp-use that you attempted and would be at your side within moments, cooing a mixture of threats and flirtations in your ear as he loomed large over you, holding you close. You heave a sigh, rubbing your eyes as you open the door, unsurprised to find Typhus awake and less than an inch from the bathroom door.

At first his habit of doing this had startled you terribly. But you'd grown used to his many strange and unsettling habits. “Hello Typhus. I'm going back to sleep.” You grumble at him, starting to move around him.

He scooped you up, grinning down at him with the half of his face he had left, some of the destroyer bees crawling out of his empty eye socket and into the hole in one of his cheeks. They buzzed and hummed along with him as he spoke “Aww, but the day has begun, my little wife, and you are already up.”

You bite back a scathing comment, not wanting to rouse his anger this early in the morning. “But… I am tired. I did not sleep well last night. The -” abominations “Geneseeds have grown to the point where I need to pee every hour and finding a spot to sleep where I'm not in pain, or have difficulty breathing or both is hard. When am I going to be free of these bowling balls inside of me?” 

Typhus listened to your ranting, an indulgent smile on his face as he did so. Once you finished, huffing and scowling up at him he leaned down and kissed you on the lips, tasting of overripe fruit and silly sweet honey. “The geneseeds will incubate for another week at most. I am curious as to how they will be, given that both of us are powerful psykers. Grandfather has asked me to bring another Imperial World into his loving embrace, which is where we are headed.” He brings you up and kisses you on the lips again, walking back to the bed.

“I hope you don't expect me to help if I’ve got Geneseed inside me at the time. I can barely waddle my way over to the bathroom and back before needing to take a break, much less fight.” You grumble. Though… if Typhus does, you are sure you can arrange to be in an unfortunate spot at the wrong time and get killed. You’re pretty sure that would kill the geneseeds inside of you, although you don't know for sure.

Especially since Typhus, the herald of a dead of rot and stagnant decay had shoved them inside of you.

“I would not risk you in such an encounter, my Isha.” Typhus rumbles, pressing nipping kisses down one side of your neck and along your shoulder. One of his large hands comes up to cup one of your breasts - which had swelled somewhat during this… pseudo company, becoming much more sensitive. 

You shudder and try to suppress a moan, though you can't help but lean into your touch. Your libido has been ridiculously high since you started intubating the geneseed. Something that Typhus had been more than happy to take advantage of, the hands, thorny bastard. “Hey… I'm hungry… and not for cock… Right now.” You grouse, leaning away a little from his touch.

Typhus grinned down at you, gently squeezing your breasts again, using his thumbs to rub teasing circles into your highly sensitive nipples. “Are you sure, my flower? Your body responds quite eagerly, and I can smell your sweet nectar.” 

You squeeze your legs together, a blush warming your face. He wasn't wrong, as the bastard's teasing had gotten you wet, your cunt starting to ache a little. You open your mouth to respond when your stomach gurgles loudly, the sounds echoing out of your mouth. You close your mouth again, wordless as you hide your face in his grimy armored skin, flustered.

“Mm, you are hungry, my love.” Typhus teased, a laugh shaking his shoulders and lilting his voice. “What would you like to eat?”

Many things. Few to none of which Typhus would ever give you. You sigh and grumble “Rations that aren't at least half-rotted or taste of cardboard. They upset my stomach.”

The herald of Nurgle hummed, a small grin appearing on his face. He closed his eye, several of his destroyer bees flying off. “I have something for you, something that I think you'll like.”

Oh no. What was he plotting now? You knew that any gift he gave you came with strings attached. “Oh?” You answer, trying for casually curious.

Two nurglings came scampering into Typhus's quarters, following the destroyer bees that he had sent off. Both of them were carrying tarnished silver plates, covered by equally tarnished silver clothes. “Here you are, big brother!” One of the nurglings chirps happily, setting the plate down on the bed next to you.

The other stares at you for several uncomfortably long seconds before setting down the plate in its hand and scurrying off. 

Typhus pulled off the clothes with a flourish “For you, my beloved. Enjoy~”

On the first plate, nearly arranged by color, were several different kinds of dried fruit, arranged into the shape of a flower, surrounding a shallow and small bowl of honey. A very familiar kind of honey, from its smell and color. The second plate had a selection of dried meats (hopefully none of them came from sentient beings) and mushrooms. 

You sighed internally and reached for the plate of fruit first, nibbling on a vibrant orange fruit warily. It had a bright and tangy flavor… You could feel Typhus staring at you, so you dipped the piece of fruit in his honey before taking another bite.

… the thick, sickly sweet flavor of his destroyer honey did make the fruit taste better, throne damn it. You swiftly devoured the rest of the first plate, a warm flush spreading across your nude body. You took a cautious bite of one of the pieces of meat and shook your head. The flavors were too intense for you and you offered them up to Typhus, pressing it to his half-dessicated lips “The meat is not to my taste, but perhaps it will be to yours, my lord?”

Typhus smiles indulgently down at you, and eats from your hand. “I had hoped these would be mild enough for your stomach. I still think a sip or two of one of the Soups would help with your nausea…”

You shake your head back and forth “No the… Flavors would be too complex for me right now. Even smelling the stews turns my stomach.” You also did not want to know what would happen if you drank one of those foul concoctions made to venerate Typhus’ dread Patron.

Typhus hummed, pressing a kiss to your cheek, pulling you up into his lap "Very well. I wouldn't want to upset your delicate stomach, my beautiful flower." One of his hands came to rest on your distended belly, squeezing gently for a couple of moments before sliding lower, squeezing your upper thigh.

The light blush on your face deepens a little, and you go back to eating, trying to ignore the rising desire that Typhus' damn honey provokes inside of you.

Not that your lack of outward reaction stops the Herald of Nurgle as his fingers slowly slide up your inner thighs, gently teasing your lower lips before one of his fingers slowly slides inside of you. "I find myself hungry for something else, my flower. If you would indulge me~?"

"Ah… hah… Maybe… Hng! Maybe after I finish bre--breakfast?" You manage out as his evil, awful finger plunges deep inside of you, curling a little before sliding out, leaving you achingly empty for several seconds too long before plunging deep inside of you again.

"Are you certain? Your nectar coats my fingers thickly, and the way you clench up around me says otherwise, my love." He purrs, grinning down at you, increasing the pace at which his fingers tease your wet and aching cunt.

"Only… Only because of your.. Ngh… Honey! I'd be… hah… Fine otherwise!" You protest, pouting up at him, in the hopes he doesn't take offense at the slip of your tongue.

Blessedly, Typhus only chuckles and kisses you again, nipping on your lower lip before answering "My honey may have helped you along a little, my lovely flower. But you've woken me up more than once this week with those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock as deep as you can take me without gagging, or you straddling me and bouncing up and down on my cock, seeking pleasure. Not that I mind in the least~!"

You try to growl, managing out a pathetically needy mewl instead as a third finger slides inside of you "I… Hah… Can't help it! Fucking… Geneseed drives me nuts!" That and his stupid evil bees sting you hard whenever you tried to get yourself off as he slept beside you. They either couldn't or wouldn't kill you while you carried the tainted geneseed of the Death Guard, but their poison hurt like little else could come close and left you weak-limbed and trembling, gasping for breath as awful nightmares swum in and out of your consciousness.

You can hear the devious smirk on Typhus' face as he purrs down at you "So you say, my lovely wife. I suspect that you merely haven't been satisfied with whoever your past partner or partners may have been and can't get enough of me fucking and filling you over and over again in all the ways you like most."

Indignant, impotent fury battles for the heady lust pulsing through your body at the tempo of the rat-bastard's fingers pumping in and out of you, making it near impossible for you to think of something to say that isn't really fucking stupid, or would make him even more smug.

Before you could come up with something, there was a quick and loud knock on the door to Typhus' quarters, and you jumped a little in his arms.

Typhus frowned a little, his grip on you tightening a little as he called out "Yes, Maleficus, what is it? I told you that I was not to be disturbed this morning until I left my quarters unless something urgent came up."

"And something has, sir. Several of the Thousand Sons' ships have surrounded ours, and Ahriman himself is demanding to speak to you about something. He says that he will take our ship by force and drag you out of your quarters by your ankles if he has to." Maleficus reported, his rusted armor creaking a little.

A low, frustrated growl rumbled from deep within Typhus' chest. He bit your shoulder, hard enough to bleed, sucking a dark hickey around the spot before lapping up the blood. He rumbled to you quietly "Wait for me, my flower. I will see what the idiot sorcerer wants and will return to pollinate you, my precious." He slid his fingers out of your pussy, licking them clean of your juices before sliding you off of his lap and getting up. He spoke louder and said "Tell Ahriman I will be on the bridge in five minutes."

"Your will be done, Herald!" The younger Death Guard responds, before turning and clanking off.

"Mm, duty calls, my precious. but I will be back soon enough. In the mean time… One final taste before I deal with a fool who obliterated most of his own brothers on a fools' errand." Typhus rumbled, pulling your legs apart easily and kneeling down. He licked at your pussy and clit, thrusting his tongue in and out of your cunt several times, enough to get you moaning and writhing in pleasure at his teasing before abruptly legging go of your legs and turning away. "That is all the time I have for you at the moment. Rest assured that I will be back to finish what I started." With that he left his quarters, leaving you alone to try and recover from his cheeky teasing.

You cover your face with a hand and groan, flopping back against his grimy, fetid sheet covers. You're briefly tempted to psychically contact this Ahriman - who is a potent psyker from the way his presence burns in the warp. But he is also very Tzeenchian, and… Well. You'd rather not have to deal with the constant back-stabbing and machinations of Tzeenchian followers. The slow, inexorable rot of Nurgle wasn't pleasant, but it was, at least, predictable. You sigh, and try to fall asleep, your cunt aching from his teasing ministrations as the honey slowly worked its' way out of your system.

[ciderjacks]

being native rn feels insane. Like at some point shit just becomes really funny. White americans are so insanely INSANELY deluded all you can do is laugh at them, because if you dont laugh your head will explode into flames and you’ll go out into the streets indiscriminately stabbing white people like your life depends on it.

[iinryer]

BEE!!!!! HOW WE FEELIN ABOUT BEES

���the average human cannot survive 500 bee stings” fuck off. what about me, tumblr user iinryer, who couldn’t survive two to three bee stings. four on a good day. so much for diversity in the workplace 🙄

[dimsilver]

and I looked, and behold there was a pale horse, and he who sat on him was just some guy