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wmarximoff · 2 years

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𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 | 𝐰. 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

summary: to get what she wants Wanda will do anything - including hurting you.

warnings (18+): smut, strap-on sex (r receiving), non-con, a bit of dacryphilia, breeding kink, loss of virginity, forced pregnancy, toxic relationship, manipulation, heavy angst. MINORS DNI.

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 3k

masterlist|

(please, don't flag the work)

༺ᱬ༻

At dawn, gray and foggy, the bitter winter temperature would arduously exceed the limitations of common sense degrees demarcated by popular thermometers.

The vehement peak of the serene dawn, as placid and peaceful as it ever was to be, had been swallowed up by a broad blanket of white, chaste snow; blizzard which had interspersed, crossing from north to south along the entire longitudinal extent of the ten thousand hectares located near the tiny town of Westview, New Jersey. You weren't born in there and, in fact, you barely knew that place at all.

The whiteness of sprays of snow in flakes of polished ice continued to crumble through the openings of the dense clouds, and a pale veil of frost took more and more possession of the tiles above the roofs and the tops of the enormities of the hills around the town, inferring a white and crystalline color.

You retained your own private assumptions about the phenomenon, however, and attributed it to increasingly distressing global warming (come on now Tony Stark, you could very well reverse global warming if you really wanted to!). But maybe you still held such a mundane concern at your core just to keep a sober dose of normality within you, and not give in to the long chants of long lonely days, as maddening as they could be.

The days that had passed gradually slipped one over the other, consubstantiating, consolidating into a single amalgam, and you no longer knew what to do to ward off the acute boredom that was consuming your nerves little by little like an autoimmune disease – there was no book to read or movie to watch that would wriggle your soul out of the lonely corners of a world you'd been segregated into, walls slowly closing in around you one by one. You were alone. Utterly alone.

Through the dim glass of the wide window of your solitary room, you gazed, with your gaze watered by the apathy that is intrinsically sprinkled in your irises and sluggish limbs and heavy in your joints like lead, the occluded sky of dawn – the few gloomy trees raised in the neighborhood surroundings like fortresses of dark, thick foliage, swaying on their own axes as the constant wind dictated outside their painted plaster walls.

With a sliver of fresh skin on your right temple pressed against the cloudy glass, so cold to the touch, your dead eyes followed the willow tree of snow outside as if it were natural, as if it was common to snow at that time of year and as if she wasn't using the situation to her whim, wherever she was at that moment, as much as she was everywhere at the same time.

Right, screw global warming. You were living like a little snowman cloistered inside your own particular snow globe – free from your point of view, but trapped inside the dome.

The truth was that Westview was a huge board full of pieces all situated in their proper squares, the vast majority composed of pawns as maneuverable and disposable as they could be, endlessly, always ready to be used and discarded and then replaced – and you were the queen of them, the most important piece to be cherished, but like everyone else, at your core, you would be just another component part of the grand scheme that Wanda Maximoff ruled with an iron fist. One wrong step and you were out, checkmate.

In a time that then sounded remote, an echo of a dream derived from a memory already forgotten, perhaps seven or eight months ago (you only calculated the passage of time by the gradual expansion of your belly, which then encompassed a larger roundness than a basketball), you were free. You were young and you were free and the world was a little less terrible than it could be.

But Wanda had kidnapped so much of you, in fact, disfigured you into a bizarre parody, a grim reflection of who you once were – but of your own free will you gladdened to the end in an elan worthy of praise, in the greatest pose of a soldier who is willing to kill and die for the glory of your people, despite the notion that you were fighting a vain, lost battle.

At the end of the day you were still her possession to be used and abused however Wanda saw fit. She saw everything, and everything she controlled.

You were nothing but a poor college student, still so full of spirit, and your captor was an esoteric entity versed in superhuman capabilities, the wielder of celestial powers who, according to herself, was also a multidimensional traveler – whatever meaning it held, or at least what she meant by such an eccentric statement as that.

All you knew was the things she could do and undo with a simple, banal hand movement, and how it affected you.

The fact was that you were alone, isolated, confined to an unknown town where escape was infeasible and outside contact was nothing short of scarce, subject to the pleasures, daydreams, paranoia and whims of a woman deeply troubled by her own inner demons, that you supposedly hated, but couldn't get away from even if you wanted to. Not when she was growing on you like a parasite, literally and figuratively speaking.

It was clear as the snow outside – conceiving Wanda's offspring in your womb (albeit at odds with your own individual desires at first, but attempts to shed such a burden proved, at first, flatly flawed and highly unnerving to Wanda's exhausted mind, who wasn't used to being a very reasonable person), whom she held so dear, there would be no way to nurture a flame of hatred for that woman that would not be extinguished quickly; no matter how little you knew about her for as long as your pregnancy lasted, Wanda's humanity, so disparate from the morbid cruelty at the bottom of those abyssal green irises, resided in the bosom of motherhood for which she cherished so much.

In the intimate caresses exchanged between her gentle blackened fingertips and your swollen belly, there was a kind of love so subtle and genuine that it almost erased from your memory the fact that you didn't want to be there in the first place. Her contact with that embryo was covered by a lapse of vulnerability, and that's why that witch once proved to have been as human as you were.

At a certain point, goodness was already given for those intentions, when there was not a shadow in her very existence. Deep down you just knew she was good. But it was no use if kindness was eclipsed by a haze of cruelty.

The faint gleam of her smile was enchanting, and the jadish irises were drowned in waves of tears that pooled behind long, thick dark lashes, right at the waterline of the one who so affectionately gazed at your belly by her rotten right fingers. At some point, you knew, you just knew that Wanda had given as much love to the world as she had to the unwanted child in your womb. You wondered what it was that had stolen Wanda's innocence so voraciously that, in the end, she ended up stealing yours too.

“Twins,” in one night she came, and Wanda had smiled at the utterance of her own words, never breaking her gaze from the skin stretched just below your navel, “My boys.”

Her touch felt cold, plastered like a corpse's hand. Everything about Wanda was somewhat cadaverous, reminiscent of the dead – although a veil of purity always overshadowed her dying features (for that witch was indeed beautiful), the dark, sharp circles under her eyes and the deep fleshed cheeks made her a spectral creature, unreal, with the waxy pale skin that so accentuated those emerald eyes that squandered a nuance of intense feeling.

You were never quite sure how to pinpoint what was going on inside her mind, although she always expressed that there was something there to look for.

“How,” you muttered with your eyes focused on anything but her, your shirt pulled up to expose your swollen stomach, not a smile found on your lips' commission to reflect that woman's.

The situation in which everything of the last few months had culminated in your stomach was in knots – the idea that it was done, and now you had nowhere to run from her.

“How can you be so sure, Wanda? Twin boys... that's a pretty... specific guess, I think. It could just be a boy, it could be a girl,” in the room lit by the orange flames of a fireplace that turned Wanda's hair as red as blood, you blinked, “It could be anything.”

“I just know,” lisped the woman who owned the long auburn locks that fell below her breasts, sketching a ghost of a vaguely nostalgic smile on her well-shaped lips, like someone wistfully remembering something that is gone and will never come back.

“I… just know it's them. My… our boys.”

There was a brief pause interspersed by the crackling fire in the dry wood, a breath held within bristling lungs.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

Your eyes finally turned to Wanda, who was crouched in front of you. She looked at you in gleaming green like she did the first time she made you bleed, when she emptied herself inside you, condemning you to that sick moment of intimacy with her.

“I know you don't understand this right now, not this version of you at least, but,” her jaw moved slightly, speaking at length in her speech, as if she were speaking like a child, seeking to express clarity. As if she had to plan her words carefully.

“I love you, детка . Everything I've done so far is because I love you, Y/n. You and our boys, our family. Everything I did was for you. I hope one day you can understand that and forgive me for what I did.”

Your eyes stung and sickly bile rose to the surface of your tongue at that controversial statement of hers. She knew it was wrong, she was fully aware of it. You could never imagine that whatever resulted from that one-sided relationship between the two of you could fall under the nominations commonly associated with the definition of “a family” .

You already had a family to call your own and belong to, a father and mother and siblings too, and from them you were usurped by her. That couldn't be a family, not that relationship structure, not you and her. Not when you weren't even twenty and barely even aware of what, say, Wanda's last name would be.

That night you cried yourself to sleep. And, like every night before that, Wanda listened until you fell into the softness of your own sleep clouded by layers of thick, salty tears.

But the warm, abstruse sweetness behind Wanda's hideous facade made her as seductive as the apple would have been to Eve, and the fragility that rarely saw the light of day made her seem so small compared to the times you feared for your life as she chained her hands behind your back and sternly brought her hips to meet yours over and over again.

You've also heard her cry before going to sleep. It just so happens that she was the one making you suffer, while you just had to put up with her external suffering.

Wanda was a complex puzzle to understand, so fluctuating, fascinating and unpleasant at the same time, like a new flavor to try, bad at first, but then becoming dangerously charming to the palate. And you didn't know whether you wanted to put those pieces together into one uniform image, or throw them in the trash and close the lid.

In fact, if traced back to the beginnings of your gloomy model of relationship (at least in the most primitive sense of the word, summarized only to the exchange of physical touches between two controversial animals, to, moreover, the imposition of physical contact from one part to the other), it was as if Wanda saw what she solemnly did to you as an artifice, a mechanism, a forced method to an end you never chose to have. It was as if she was just performing a necessary sacrifice that justified the means she chose to use.

She apologized again and again because that inside of you stung and hurt when she ripped something inside you, and she worked hard to make you like it too, even though you barely knew her at the time, and in fact just waking up from the stillness of your sleep to the uncomfortable feeling of a foreign body on top of you, with your legs spread wide and streams of fresh crimson blood dishonoring the sheets down your thighs, ripping you in half like no one before her had ever done.

“Shh, it's okay Y/n, it's okay. It's okay, you’re okay детка.”

She lisped that night with the palm of her right hand screwed to your lips, stuffing your protests behind your teeth (scorched-tipped fingers sweeping strands of your hair behind the shell of your ear, Wanda in a red tiara looking like would cry as much as you already did). The first time you saw her, that strange woman invading your room and also you, she seemed as uncomfortable with what she was doing as you felt with her tucked inside your innocence.

“I know it hurts, baby, I know, I…” Green eyes then pulled away from your face contorted in sharp pain, as if, for half a second, she couldn't even look at you in that state. As if, in your room, she would burst into tears with you.

“I'm very sorry. I'm really, really sorry детка , but I have to do this. It’ll pass, alright? Will pass. It’ll fit, we'll make it fit, okay? Just take a deep breath. This will be quick, I promise. I,” Wanda choked on her own words, “I'm so sorry, Y/n.”

And it went on for quite a few sluggish minutes – the headboard hitting the wall rhythmically, hard and slow behind your head, your white cotton underwear crumpled and discarded at the foot of your bed, your eyes focused on how much the sharp points of that scarlet tiara that seemed to protrude from the top of her skull resembled two demonic horns as they rose and fell in the dark of your room, above you.

When your conscience woke up, the very next morning and in a room you were not at all familiar with, the wet pain between your legs was the final sentence given that you were already her property. And you tried to run away, wander the streets of Westview, cry out for help from your new assigned neighbors, but they were smiling like machines, nothing was wrong. Nothing was ever wrong.

And the visits continued, scheduled for sunset; the fall of the veil of night was the apogee of your fate – in that house with dismal walls, dark shadows lightened by the tongues of fire that burned in the hearth, Wanda came in the form of that crimson specter to do what she had to do. And time had washed the regrets from her soul, when did the pleasures of the flesh begin to burn hotter on her skin.

“Dерьмо,” Wanda anathematized one night in a sigh under her breath, moaning in a thick accent in the roof of her mouth as she stood behind you, blackened fingers digging deep into the skin of your hips as hers pierced into yours.

“Dетка, you feel so good, s-so good, Y/n...” she gasped, your white-knuckled fingers screwed to the sheets moving beneath you both, “Fuck, I missed you so bad...”

“I-it hurts,” you squealed beneath her, your right cheek rubbing against your pillowcase, your teeth clenched, your jaw set, “W-Wanda, Wanda wait– go slow, you're– you're hurting me, Wanda, please slow down–”

“I'm going to come,” she suddenly announced, indifferent to your protests, “Fuck, I'm going to come inside you, Y/n.”

The cognition of such a sentence haunted the nerves of your spine. At that point, you already had basic knowledge accumulated about her – she was called Wanda Maximoff, she was from another universe and, as a factor of greater relevance to emphasize, she was capable of performing and handling magic, something that for you, until that moment at the time, was nothing more than a fictitious topic. And, if she was qualified to run an entire city on her own, she might well be able to turn something as frivolous as coming inside you with a fake phallus into a permanent action and one fraught with the most undesirable consequences.

“No-!” you immediately chafed then, trying to crawl your body away from hers on the bed sheets, “Wanda, don't– don't do that– Wanda–!”

But with a pull and a jerk she held you steady, your hips up, ribbons of scarlet energy restraining your wrists bound to the bed, just to the side of both your temples. And the notion that you couldn't even move caused warm tears to pool in the waterline of your eyes, clouding your view of the raised wall to the left of the double bed located in the heart of that partially lit room by the dull bulb of a bedside lamp.

“Hold still, детка, I-I'm almost,” she growled, her hips hammering against yours in essentially violent movements, “Almost there–!”

“No, pull out,” you whimpered, “Wanda, pull out, don't do that, don't do that, Wanda– Wanda, please–!”

“I need to do this Y/n, I fucking need to–!”

“Wanda, please–!”

She didn't pull out. She never pulled out – the point was not to pull out, it was that she emptied herself inside you, painted your insides with that magical secretion that only a few weeks later proved to be appropriate for the purpose Wanda had in mind. And she didn't touch you anymore, not that way, when her goal was achieved – with the plan completed, all she had to do was wait for your organism to do what it had to do. And so the months passed, snow fell on that simulated dome. Her visits weren't as frequent anymore.

“Why me?” you asked her once, as she stroked your belly through your thick crimson wool sweater.

Crouched down in front of the couch, Wanda raised her eyes to you like she always did when she was trying to communicate with the child she had shoved inside you.

“Because I love you,” was her answer, of course. A wave of ominous disgust twisted your insides at that oblivious response, as if Wanda were genuinely alienated from the reality of where she was your captor and aggressor.

“You barely know me, Wanda,” you spat, “And I barely know you. This isn't love, you're using me like a fucking incubator. You’re sick and you fucking know it.”

She lowered her head in front of your prickly speech, a lock of reddish hair piercing an emerald iris of hers, while Wanda's left fingers, dark as pitch, kept stroking your belly through a layer of clothing. She compressed her lips into a long line, and you held your breath. From your point of view, Wanda, stripped of that crimson armor she always wore and then tucked into casual clothes, sweatpants and a sweater as thick as your own, looked small and confused like a child, a little girl.

“You used to know me,” she muttered quietly, “Where I come from, you used to know me. We were married. We had our boys. You... for as long as it took in Westview after I had you back again, you were my world after I lost everything.”

You blinked once.

“Westview?”

She looked at you again.

“Yes, Y/n. Westview. They took you from me, more than once. But the second time they took our boys too. So I,” there was a pause in her speech, “I had to look for you in another reality. In a reality where nothing could ever get out of my control again.”

And for half a second you looked back at her.

“Wanda,” the palm of your right hand slowly snuggled against her left cheek, which approached your touch in an almost pathetic neediness, when was it that you looked into her eyes, “You’ll never have control over me, no matter how hard you try.”

She closed her eyes as a tear trickled down her cheek.

“I know.”

When the twins were born, you didn't want to hold them. And, begrudgingly, Wanda understood. She understood that she could never have you, not after what she had done to you, but to her consolation at least there were those boys left for her.

And she had been benevolent in letting you go, as if she had released a bird from its caged captivity, erasing from your memory any and all discernment of what your relationship had been like for ten months or so, abstracting from the confines of your mind the idea of how much she had harmed you by excluding herself from your memory. You went back to your old life, and she started a new one.

Time has come and gone. You had no sense of the past, and no one in your social circle even seemed to notice your absence for nearly a full year – it was like a dream, a memory, a lie. A kind of collective amnesia. You moved out of your parents' home after graduation and obtained a steady job in your field of work. And, after a while, you decided that it might be good to share your life with a second person – soon enough, a relationship blossomed between you and a dark-haired woman you met during a snowy winter day in a coffee shop.

Your girlfriend was a few years older than you and a single mom, but it turns out you got along great with her kids, and she was the best partner anyone could ask for. And when, on a warm summer day in the city park, Wanda offered you a strawberry ice cream cone right after presenting Billy and Tommy with their respective favorite flavors each, you genuinely smiled at her.

“Thanks, baby,” and then, you kissed her on the cheek. Billy asked Tommy to play tag, and the older twin accepted.

Wanda smiled at you. She smiled at you as if she didn't know how much she had already hurt you. “You’re welcome, детка.”

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homunculus-argument · 8 months

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Ok I’ll bite,

What in the goddam world do Sofie and an Ork have in common?

Reality warps itself around to match their ideas of what should be possible and what should exist. For Sophie Hatter, who is a highly intelligent and self-critical young woman, this becomes a sort of a magical autoimmune disease - she remains cursed long after the original curse should have been gone because she believes that she ought to be cursed. It doesn't occur to her that she is a powerful wizard in her own right becuase she doesn't believe in herself.

Warhammer 40K orks have the same mechanism, but in reverse. The only reason why they are capable of building functional guns, rockets and spaceships is because they believe that whatever nonsense they cobble together should work. The reason why they succeed in these feats is because they are simply too damn stupid to understand that they are too stupid to build spaceships.

Respectively, these two are also illustrations of my mentality towards life as a 20-year-old, and as a 30-year-old. Turns out I can just ignore the fact that I'm too stupid to make art for a living and do it anyway.

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mindblowingscience · 1 year

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A recent randomized, double-blind clinical trial on the medication has shown such promising results, the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has just approved its use for patients 12 years and older. Alopecia is marked by hair loss on the scalp, face, or body. It occurs when the immune system begins attacking a person's own hair follicles, and while most patients are otherwise healthy, patchy or complete losses of hair can have serious mental and emotional impacts. Some patients with severe forms of the disease lose all of their scalp hair, eyelashes, eyebrows, and all the rest of their body hair as well, a condition known as alopecia universalis. Such severe cases tend to be especially resistant to available treatments, but a new drug called ritlecitinib could help change that. In stage two and three clinical trials, the oral medicine reversed up to 80 percent of hair loss on the scalp for close to a quarter of all patients, and so far appears to be one of the only treatments for severe alopecia that is both effective and well-tolerated by a significant number of people. Its approval also makes it the only treatment available for children.

#science #stem #medicine #health #alopecia #hair loss

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crestofshame · 2 years

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During my routinely Wikipedia spiraling I have discovered that Edelgard and Lysithea’s disease is based on a real phenomenon called Canities Subita. It is a condition in which someone’s hair turns completely white overnight due to abnormally high amounts of stress and trauma, and that the over-production of cortisol in the body causes stem cells to fail to produce pigment in hair. It is oftentimes paired with autoimmune problems.

Unsurprisingly, this is a rather infrequent phenomenon, only happening a few times documented throughout history, but it’s apparently used as a tool in fiction to illustrate the intensity of trauma, typically in the religious sense. It is also implied that almost every piece of fiction that incorporates this idea often allows for the existence of the reverse effect if the stress is reduced.

THUS, our universal headcanon of original hair color being restored upon finding a cure is quite likely the case

#lysithea von ordelia #edelgard von hresvelg

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hedwig-dordt · 1 year

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Today, autoimmune diseases are generally treated with drugs that broadly shut down the immune system. “These treatments can be very effective, but you’re also blocking the immune responses necessary to fight off infections and so there are a lot of side effects,” said Hubbell. “If we could treat patients with an inverse vaccine instead, it could be much more specific and lead to fewer side effects.” More work is needed to study Hubbell’s pGal compounds in humans, but initial phase I safety trials have already been carried out in people with celiac disease, an autoimmune disease that is associated with eating wheat, barley, and rye, and phase I safety trials are underway in multiple sclerosis.

Apparently it's Yay Science! Day over here. I´m trying really hard not to want this tomorrow, since I love various people who deal with the autoimmune diseases. But this sounds amazing.

(@realcleverscience this seems your wheelhouse too)

#chronic illness #science #yay science

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sidewalkchemistry · 1 year

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A lot of people will focus on what they want right now, instead of on what they want most. Right now, you might want pizza, but if what you want most is to walk through Venice pain-free, instead of being in pain all the time, you've got to focus on Venice and see the pizza as the enemy that will keep you from Venice. We have to change the way we look at foods that hurt us. If something is making you sicker, it's not a treat. It is a toxin. When you can change your mindset and focus on that big "why" of what you want most in this world, rather than what you want in this moment to get high or deal with an emotional issue you're having, that's when you live on a greater level.

I just did some big coaching in my group with someone who posted that she ate off-plan. She ate buttered toast because she had a fight with her husband, and she needed comfort. And I said, 'That was not comfort.' Comfort helps you heal the wound. If you were comforted, like with therapy, time with friends, exercise, the wound contracts and you start getting better. But, when you eat buttered toast, you are making yourself sicker. If you had wine or did cocaine, it's the same thing. You're hiding from the feeling temporarily. But when that rush, that high, goes away, underneath it is the same wound that was there before. But now it's even bigger because you have to add your guilt and shame on top of it for having eaten something that you had said you weren't going to eat.

So, again, you want to on that big why of what you're creating for yourself and you want to discover real comfort. I call it self-care, real comfort that actually makes you feel emotionally nourished.

- Dr. Brooke Goldner in How to Reverse Autoimmune Disease, or Almost Any Chronic Disease with Supermarket Foods

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rmlpathology · 2 months

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Understanding Different Types of Diabetes and Their Impact on the Body

Diabetes is a chronic condition that affects millions of people worldwide. It disrupts the body's ability to regulate blood sugar (glucose) levels, leading to serious health complications if not managed properly. There are several types of diabetes, each with unique characteristics and impacts on the body. This article will explore the different types of diabetes, how they affect the body, and the tests provided by RML Pathology to diagnose and manage this condition.

1. Type 1 Diabetes

Description:

Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease where the immune system mistakenly attacks and destroys insulin-producing beta cells in the pancreas. This results in little to no insulin production, which is essential for regulating blood sugar levels.

Impact on the Body:

Requires lifelong insulin therapy.

Increases the risk of complications such as diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA), a potentially life-threatening condition.

Long-term complications include cardiovascular disease, kidney damage (nephropathy), nerve damage (neuropathy), and vision problems (retinopathy).

Can cause frequent urination, excessive thirst, extreme hunger, weight loss, fatigue, and irritability.

2. Type 2 Diabetes

Description:

Type 2 diabetes is the most common form of diabetes. It occurs when the body becomes resistant to insulin or when the pancreas does not produce enough insulin. Lifestyle factors such as obesity, poor diet, and lack of exercise significantly contribute to its development.

Impact on the Body:

Often managed with lifestyle changes, oral medications, and sometimes insulin.

Can lead to complications like heart disease, stroke, kidney disease, eye problems, and nerve damage.

Symptoms include increased thirst, frequent urination, increased hunger, fatigue, blurred vision, slow-healing sores, and frequent infections.

3. Gestational Diabetes

Description:

Gestational diabetes occurs during pregnancy when the body cannot produce enough insulin to meet the increased needs. It usually resolves after childbirth but increases the risk of developing type 2 diabetes later in life.

Impact on the Body:

Can cause high blood pressure during pregnancy (preeclampsia).

Increases the risk of having a large baby, leading to complications during delivery.

May result in low blood sugar levels in the newborn and a higher risk of obesity and type 2 diabetes in the child later in life.

4. Prediabetes

Description:

Prediabetes is a condition where blood sugar levels are higher than normal but not high enough to be classified as type 2 diabetes. It is a critical stage for intervention to prevent the progression to type 2 diabetes.

Impact on the Body:

Often reversible with lifestyle changes such as diet and exercise.

Increases the risk of developing type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and stroke.

Symptoms are often absent or mild, making regular screening important.

Tests Provided by RML Pathology

RML Pathology offers a comprehensive range of tests to diagnose and manage diabetes effectively. These include:

Fasting Blood Glucose Test:

Measures blood sugar levels after fasting for at least 8 hours.

Helps diagnose diabetes and prediabetes.

HbA1c Test:

Provides an average blood sugar level over the past 2-3 months.

Used to diagnose diabetes and monitor long-term glucose control.

Oral Glucose Tolerance Test (OGTT):

Measures the body's response to a glucose solution.

Commonly used to diagnose gestational diabetes.

Random Blood Sugar Test:

Measures blood sugar levels at any time of the day.

Useful for diagnosing diabetes when symptoms are present.

Gestational Diabetes Test:

Specifically designed for pregnant women to detect gestational diabetes.

Conclusion

Understanding the different types of diabetes and their impact on the body is crucial for effective management and prevention. Regular testing and early detection play a vital role in managing diabetes and preventing complications. RML Pathology provides a wide range of diagnostic tests to help you monitor and manage your diabetes effectively. If you have any symptoms or risk factors for diabetes, consider visiting RML Pathology for a comprehensive evaluation.

Contact RML Pathology Today:

📞 7991602001, 7991602002 📞 0522-4034100 🌐 www.rmlpathology.com

Experience the best in diagnostics with RML Pathology – where your health is our priority.

#diabetes #type 1 diabetes #type 2 diabetes #gestational diabetes #prediabetes #diabetes management #blood sugar #glucose levels #RML Pathology #diabetes tests #HbA1c #fasting blood glucose #oral glucose tolerance test #random blood sugar test #health #healthcare #diabetes diagnosis

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bruh-anator3000 · 1 year

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Special shout out to bae @thehistoriangirl for getting the kettle ready, we got a long story ahead of us. I actually wrote out an entire story but then realized most people dont want that, so let me break it down to the best of my ability. I hope you enjoy, and thank you to the 5 people who showed interest, I love you, like for real.

Warnings: severely unedited, Drug/substance abuse, inhumane product testing, death, probably bad writing at diseases (im working on it), child abuse/neglectance, daddy issues, crime, that should be all

Anisa Hardy was born with albinism and an autoimmune disease

Her premature birth gave both her and her mother serious issues, one that her father, a renowned surgeon and geneticist tried to undo

He tested his genetic reversal on Anisa when she was 7, trying to find the perfect formula to save his wife

He had a prophetic dream that he should splice their dna with the creature told to have 9 lives, so that if his wife did die, she could be reincarnated again

The splicing worked on Anisa but her mother died during the genetic sewing

Walter Hardy blames Anisa for lying to him that it worked

Her older sister ran away from home when Anisa was 16, leaving her the advice 'trust no one but yourself.'

Anisa stayed in school for the one reason of being better than her father

As her father went insane from losing his true love, he created a drug ring, and sold his company as he grew to become Nueva York's largest crime lord, under the alias of 'The Black Mask.'

Given her increased stealth, agility and strength thanks to the spliced cat dna, Anisa was forced to work as his number 1 robber, stealing things for him under the name of 'the Child of the Mask' (father's idea, not hers)

Got noticed by Alchemax as she entered college - the company Walter *used* to own

Met Miguel O'Hara when she interned with the lab cooperation

The typical trope of they couldn't express their care in any other way besides picking on each other

Anisa would bring Miguel his exact coffee order every morning though

He caught onto the fact she never had any real food to eat, and when he asked, she just snarked 'unless you bring me somethin else, I'll stick to my chips."

So he brought her homemade empanadas the next day

He was rewarded with one of the less noticeable stolen jewels her father made her take. Leaving it on O'Hara's desk without a word. This back and forth continued for a while

While in the labs, Anisa created a drug called 'Nine Lives.' A purple substance so strong, it could bring her back to life. It could only be used 9 times since it would slowly take over the blood stream 10% each dose.

However, Anisa made 10. Knowing full well her body would rupture if she ever took this drug ten times. She planned on it, in case one her last leg, she wouldn't be able to survive again

Miguel never really noticed, too caught up in his own research to care

The two never got to address their growing romantic feelings even after 2 years

And when Anisa thought she was ready to commit to the asshole of a coworker and finally ask him on a proper date, her father had the crazy idea that a spider's dna could bring his love back to life.

She was instructed to get Miguel alone and locked in the labs so that his men could take him out for testing. Because clearly, a healthy and strong young man's reaction to this would definitely be the same as a dead woman's

Anisa was inches away from the door when she broke down, running over to Miguel and begging him to leave. To trust her, and to walk out the lab doors and never come back

Obviously, he thought it was some stupid prank, an attempt to get him out so she could copy his work

That was until the glass behind them broke and a posion dart shot Anisa in the back of the neck, having her fall near dead asleep in Miguel's hold

Smoke filled the room, and as he tried to haul himself and Anisa out, three more darts landed on his back, knocking them both out clean

Anisa gained her vision, unable to move anything else as she helplessly watched her father's men drag Miguel away

She never returned to the labs

The next few nights, she paced, trying to figure out a way to get Miguel out of this mess

Thats when she adapted the 'Black Cat.'

She made her own suit, far different from the crappy skin tight shit her father threw at her, a mask that was inspired by Miguel's nanotechnology he tampered with, and broke into her father's labs

She found Miguel motionless, still dead asleep as a computer read how close his dna was to completing it's splicing

She ripped all her father's work apart, finally getting the revenge she's wanted for years and dragged Miguel's limp body out of the building

It was tough but she managed to get them back into the labs, where she set to work on making a neutralizer, similar to the one she had to take to contain the more... feral parts of her split blood

She created it, basing it off of her own but with spider calming elements instead and wrote it down for him. She injected him with it, watched as he sat up screaming, and disappeared, unable to face him

Guilt heavy as she wondered day and night; maybe if she tried harder, Miguel wouldn't have to live like her. Maybe if she was better, she could've saved him... and her mother

News of the black cat caught on, especially since she would steal for her father under his given alias, then take it all back a week or so later under her more fitting identity

She never talked to Miguel again, ignoring his calls, too ashamed with herself to even think of him

It wasn't until she was robbing one of the more secure banks of the city (technically un-robbing it by putting jewels *back*) that she met another vigilante, Spider-Man 2099

A ridiculous name, she taunted, her mask giving her words more confidence.

As they fought, and he told a smidge of his story, she caught on quick

She knew he was Miguel from the very beginning

I mean, who else has spider dna?

Suddenly, she didn't know what to do and nearly got herself kicked off a building and into the road

As time went on, Black cat was the only mask Anisa wore, stealing the artifacts or secret chemicals from their establishments before her father could get to them

All Walter knew was that his horrible daughter finally went missing - unaware his own creation beat him at his game nearly every heist

Spider-Man was the real issue. Choosing to fight Anisa instead of listening to her side

It was the labs all over again. Arguing without even caring who was actually right, just caring that it meant the spent more time together

Miguel would catch Black Cat just 'strolling' along rooftops where he was patrolling

He found himself sitting with his nemesis, splitting street food as they watched the city bustle beneath them

He didn't find out about her identity until he almost got her killed

Use one of nine for her concoction of 'Nine Lives.'

Miguel had found Black Mask's house of operation, and ignored the pleading of Black Cat

He refused to give up on this mission, needing to ensure Black Mask couldn't harm the world again

A failed fight later, the only way to stop Miguel from being shot dead was Anisa ripping off her mask to calm her father

But being seperated from him for so long, she forgot the rage that would boil over him everytime he saw his daughter's face - too similar to her mother, too similar to the wife she killed

He shot her 5 times in the chest without blinking, walking away as Miguel crawled over

He truly thought he lost another one to Black Mask. First, his uncle, the only one in his family who cared about him - and now the girl he ever considered close. Dare he say, a friend - maybe more.

On the brink of death, Anisa brought his hand down to her belt, revealing a purple vial with two needles at the end. Like fangs, with a shot mechanism

Rolling her head to the side, a silent invitation to inject her with this vial, right into her major pulse point

Miguel almost didn't do it. Terrified it would make things worse, but he had to take a chance

And after watching her bullet wounds heal over with fake purple skin, Anisa shot up, gasping

They grew closer then, after Miguel snappes at her for her criminal activities, and almost dying

The Black Cat and Spider-Man, working together?! Was on every headline for a few months

Then, Miguel disappeared

Completely gone, like he had fallen off the face of the earth, and Anisa couldn't do anything

She tried every resource, every gang, every possible thing, unwilling to loose someone like that again

But she couldn't find anything. Miguel was gone

It wasn't until three months later when one of her sources notified her of his pressence back in Nueva York

She immediately ran to a museum, stealing the largest Tomb there and waited anxiously for Miguel to come after her

He did, and she nearly tackled him with excitement

She quipped on and on, teasing him for leaving, but Miguel didn't respond to a single taunt, not even a grunt

When she lowered her guard, and her mask to sincerely ask what happened, a red web caught on her midsection

Slamming her face first into the concrete of the roof, breaking her nose immediately

He grabbed her chin, unfazed by the blood streaming down her face and yelled

But he didn't exactly yell, his voice just so angry, it was cold against her ear as he told her that hes seen things she could never comprehend

That there were worlds, far greater and far less than theirs, that they meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, that Anisa meant nothing. She never did.

And that if she kept trying to steal and be a criminal, he would no longer be the one to save her from her doom. That he wasn't going to spend his life chasing a lowlife like her. That shes already wasted so much of his time, that nothing she did mattered. It never did

And then, he left

Miguel left Anisa on the roof with a broken nose, the words of her sister ringing like a bell in her head

'Trust no one but yourself.'

For a while, Anisa let it be. Angrier than ever, upset that she let herself get hurt again, she went to work with her father again

Receiving tasks under a fake identity - Walter Hardy still believed he finally killed his daughter

But she grew bored, her anger needing closure or else she was going to bash everyone's head in Nueva York against the very asphalt they walked on

Like any normal not really ex - she stalked Miguel

It was hard finding a lead at first, but what she found was astonishing. Miguel had created an entire society

A society of spider people, from apl different dimensions

Naturally, she mapped out the entire building and filled all the air systems with a sleeping gas that knocked all the spiders out, expect for Miguel

His vents filled with paralyzing smoke, leaving him unable to move, but to witness the woman he never thought to see again walk through his complex building like she owned the place

Barging into his lair, she pressed on his wrist until a red web shot out

Grabbing it, she wrapped Miguel in his own webbing, and threw him into his chair before pressing a knife to his neck

"Anisa," he gulped out, "good to see you,"

"Ohhhhh," Anisa's head whipped around. Finding other spider with a five o'clock shadow slumped over. "You know her? Veryyyy cool." Peter B chuckled, slobbering running down his face as the paralysis kept his muscles still

They eventually work it out after he has Lyla do her explainy fhingy while hes limp and tied to a chair (lyla took photos) and Anisa would eventually get over it and understand

She would later go on to finally stop her father with the help of Miguel

Later, she would take over as Nueva York's largest crime lord - pissing Miguel off until he realized that crime actually went down since her rein began

She only took over because she knew if she didn't, someone worse would, and she uses her status as a way to demand criminals to get therapy and better jobs

She would also be granted max security for the spider society, and be allowed in whenever she wanted - always to meet up with Miguel, sometimes to help him, other times to just lay around and be a silent menace

Okay! Now with her story out of the way, i get to share the smaller details!

Anisa was born a second generation immigrant on her mother's side, from what was once known as Iran

Due to her albinism, she has silver hair and purple eyes, and she's smaller than a lot of people from being born prematurely

After the dna spilce, she gained some melanin back, and was given the opportunity to be a more average height/weight from it

She had to curate her own stabilizing serum since her father gave up on it, working closely with one of his scientists who helped her understand what was going on

The cat dna improved flexibility, agility, endurance, stealth, speed, heightened senses, and oddly, her chances of luck

Has claws and fangs very similar to Miguel, on both her fingers and toes. Her pupils also gained the ability to shrink and expand like a cat's, giving her an odd slit pupil look regularly

Bc of that, and her albinism, she's very very sensitive to light, often wearing some sort of eye wear to keep her safe

Her hair grew thicker too, excessive hair growth that was darker than her normal silver. It's odd trying to explain why near her temples/roots, its darker than the rest of her hair - explaining your mad scientist father spliced your genetic code with a black cat isn't easy

Makes biscuits whens shes deep in thought, and her claws get stuck on fabric and she cant pull away unless she grabs her wrist to manually detach her claws

Her tongue is textured too, and she came to that realization after licking ice cream and it left a really concerning pattern

She has to be very careful with what she wears, anything could tick her off with her hypersensitivity

I actually can't decide if I want her to grow ears and a tail yet so its in my mind as concept design still lmao

Really close to her sister, Emelia, and Anisa listens to her voicemail of her whenever she gets sad

Grew up used to people bullying her for her different appearance, so even if she wanted friends, no one dared be near her

Ironically enough, she's actually deadly allergic to seafood, so though her feline insticts go off when she smells fish, she cannot risk eating it

Her father signed her up for any extra curricular she wanted, Martial arts, sword fighting, gymnastics, anything to keep her away from him

Got in a lot of trouble with the law as a juvenile, an act of rebellion towards her father

Ordinarily, Alchemax wouldn't have hired the daughter of the insane scientist, but Anisa forged documents and changed her last name to her mother's

People tell her that she does have a very similar appearance to her father, and it makes her go crazy, wanting to rip out every part of her

Her skin is very sensitive, even more so bc of the heightened senses, so it scars really easily - it doesn't help she's picked up picking at scabs as a habit

Was lowkey in love at first sight with Miguel until he finally opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong with her formulas

They were apart of a group of roughly 10 other interns, but the rest requested a transfer not long after Anisa and Miguel started fighting over everything

The one thing that kept Anisa's interest piqued was that whenever someone made a diss about her appearance, calling her unnatural or a genetic mistake, Miguel would get on them in an instant

He backed another intern named Mark into the cart of petri dishes, breaking them all - Anisa would've started a fight on it if Miguel hadn't used it to his advantage to get the guy fired

Miguel was also quick to notice the bruises she'd come in with (being your father's main robber, only to then rob him to unrob the banks wasn't easy)

He only knew how to argue with her but he didn't want to make her feel bad about the scars or bruises, so that's when he brought up nutrition

And he didn't hesitate to make her lunch from then on. He didn't even explain why or let Anisa question him. He would simply silently hand her a paper bag as she handed him his morning coffee

After the whole testing incident and stuff, he planned on coming back to work and to ask Anisa what she knew about it, but was devastated to find her gone

As Spider-Man, after their maybe 6th run in, Anisa stopped what she was doing to teach him how to control his claws and fangs, tired of being smacked with a handful of talons

It was awkward as she would dig her fingers into his hands and above his lip, helping him feel the motion of retracting them, but it worked

She also tried to teach him about the sixth sense, the spidery sense bc she had a cat sense

Only to find out that she could lob foam blades at him all day and he wouldn't be able to sense it

Literally could not stop laughing as she made him stand there, eyes closed, and threw fake weapons at him, and he couldn't sense where they were, grumbling

Anisa progressively got more flirty as time went on, her hidden identity making her way bolder than normal - even though she's never actually done the deed

(She didn't trust anyone enough to, especially not with how incredibly sensitive she was. Claws come out when unchecked, just saying)

While on patrol, he found Black Cat just sitting and joined her, unknowingly starting a habit of them both grabbing street junk food and watching the city together

During these times, she would joke how she knew his identity, but never had the courage to actually say it, so she would compare him to old movie stars just to see him get offended

He found out Anisa was Black Cat - or at least really started to suspect it when she responded the same to his question of eating better - "unless you make me," in the same almost forgotten tone

Their relationship did progress into a grey area of romance, both of them knowing they couldn't reveal their identities so being together outside of their little game of cat and mouse

She never did more than aggressively makeout with Miguel on the rooftops, refusing to. Miguel understood but he was always perplexed how someone could flirt so heavily then not be hot and bothered like him

Anisa is obviously very smart, and was able to copy Miguel's digital watch, the hologram aspect of it at least

Also copied his nanotech designs, obviously, and would often try messing with his to understand how it all worked

Was shocked to find out it wasn't nanotech, but a bunch of unstable atoms to create a hologram

1000% stops mid battle to follow stray cats, often making Miguel come with

Does the cat kicking litter move on him when hes late to their chase, often mocking him by asking how he was gonna let pigs beat a spider

After her whole shot in the chest and died thingy, Miguel asked about her 'Nine Lives' substance and she walked him through the process of making it and how it reacts to her blood only while laying in a web hammock he made

She explained that because she was the only one in charge of keeping her genetics human - besides the one other scientist - she was constantly trying to improve her serum, which led to the creation of Nine Lives

Teased her once with a fish cake, and nearly had a heart attack when she gurgled out how deadly allergic she was to it before trying ti claw it out of his grasp

He threw it in a randomw alley and had to web her to a wall to get her to stop trying to eat it

Once he caught on to the way Anisa's eyes slitted in focus whenever his webbing would first shoot out, he would use the string to mess with her until she gave into the feline urge to chase it

Same with lasers, its very embarrassing for her but Miguel loves it

His 3 month disappearance was when he switched places with his alter self, going to take care of Gabriela before her world collapsed

Which is why he was super angry when he came back, furious Anisa could be making jokes at a time like this (she didn't know what time it was, just that her super hot not really boyfriend came back)

Given her abilities to copycat most structures or devices, Anisa spent an entire month mapping out the spider society, just so she could send them all to sleep

And it worked, spider senses or not, no one could escape the sleeping smoke when it came from every vent

Peter B was very thrilled to find out Anisa was Miguel's Black Cat, unbothered by the fact he was in the lime of fire, falling to the same paralysis Miguel did

Lyla absolutely ate that shit up, barely keeping herself together as Anisa wheeled Miguel around in his chair so he could explain things better

When she finally forgave him, he took her on a tour of the society

Something awoke in Anisa everytime Miguel would get slightly harsh in tone, telling any spider that approached them that she was *his* Black Cat

Made her feel very special

When she became crime lord, Miguel didn't talk to her for weeks, feeling betrayed without even listening to why

Then he noticed he wasn't called on his Earth for missions anymore, able to focus on the multiverse a lot better

Thanks to Anisa

Who spent all her time handling actual villains for him, and helped the ones who felt they had no other option get stable jobs

I.E kicked the shit out of Green Goblin (Miguel's brother, whoops) and helped his minions find secure jobs that would financially keep them stable

The spider people love her for her ability to calm Miguel down (they have a separate training room that they use to tear into each other after 24 hours of no stabilizing serum)

She gets really heartbroken when she hears the other canon Black Cat events, and takes her time to notice them so she can discreetly derail them from happening, a silent attempt of keeping Miguel in her life

And that's all, so far! I'm sure theres plenty I forgot, I really tried to cut as much as I could so it wouldn't be a long read but... I'm a writer at heart, I couldn't help it. Please, please, please ask questions! I would love to tell more about her! Thank you to those who read it all, I hope your leftovers are heated evenly and your pillow is cold on both sides <3

#Anisa Hardy #black cat oc #black cat #Miguel o'hara #miguel x oc #spidersona #bruh oc #bruh writes #spiderverse oc #spiderverse

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thekristen999 · 1 year

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This seems promising.

@mellaithwen

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rissi-chan · 8 months

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Patreon Launch!

Hey, fellow fanatics!

I decided to finally take the plunge and launch a Patreon for my art (fanart and original) and writing (fanfic and original). Both becaue it will motivate me to draw and write more often, and because of my current life situation (which will be explained as best I can under the cut, for those that care to read).

There will be NSFW content in certain pledges, so MDNI with the subscription levels that include that stuff!

Fanart will mostly be BG3 as that is my most recent and current hyperfixation, but other fandoms I am likely to produce content from include:

Dungeons and Dragons, Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Touchstarved

AND potentially the occasional/rare otome/dating sim fandoms, Fire Emblem, and various anime and/or manga.

Along with original content and characters that live in my head rent free!

I will also most likely periodically do commissions—but I will have to set up a pricing breakdown/separate web page for that, probably.

Here is the link to my freshly launched page!:

Now, the life ramble that explains my current situation:

So, life is hard.

I've been lucky. I don't pay rent (I still live with my mother). I only have to help pay for groceries on occasion. I have a job (barely, but we'll get into that) with probably the most freedom/flexibility on could possibly imagine. I have free time—loads.

So what's the problem?

The job I mentioned is hard to really call a job. I'm all but officially unemployed. My parents (when my dad was still alive) bought the local newspaper that my mom has worked at for nearly as long as I've been alive. We live in a small, SMALL town. The run of each weekly issue is maybe in the 2,000-4,000 range. We make most of our money selling ads (which is gross, but the newspaper industry is failing in general, and we are a just a local, rural print and many choose other, more advanced forms of advertisement which reach a broader audience). We've been in the red for the past 2 years, my mother often skipping her own pay check to ensure that she can pay the 2 other elderly employees that are on staff. I make less than $400 a month. Much less.

That's the price you pay for freedom. Little pay, LOTS of time. The reverse is also true, which is something I'm sure a vast majority of people can relate to.

Capitalism is so much fun, isn't it?

Those that are out of college and live with a parent may also be able to relate to what comes next.

The relationship between my mother and I has always had its strained moments, to put it mildly. We are very different people. We have different life experiences, we cope with stress differently. There is a running joke on social media that living with your parents after college/as an adult has the financial advantages, but at the cost of your mental health—and that is very much the reality of our situation.

My biggest insecurity in recent years—since the sudden passing of my father in 2018—has been the feeling of being a burden.

I've never been a healthy person. We always joke that I got all the sickly genetics and my brother got all the cosmic bad luck. I'm autistic. I have anxiety and depression. I have an autoimmune disease. I inherited the genetic heart condition that killed my father. I had a blood clot 2 years ago. I no longer have health insurance. None of this is uncommon, certainly. But I avoid healthcare entirely unless it's an absolute necessity (like the blood clot).

I limit my eating, so we don't have to buy groceries as often.

But my mother has always had a temper, especially when she's stressed. And with the business so up-in-the-air and the constant worry of having to close our doors and find new jobs in a VERY small town + in a society with very limited options, spam job listings, and bogus opportunities, she is almost ALWAYS stressed these days.

She takes it out on me. I'm the only one here.

My feelings of being a burden are all but confirmed for me in those moments. She knows just what to say to hurt me most (whether she realizes it or not, she uses my insecurities against me), and my mental and emotional health worsen, as does the relationship between my mother and I.

I play games or draw or write to feel happy. To have some reprieve from reality.

But "it doesn't make money" and therefore it's a waste of time.

And that brings me to where I am now.

I may make next-to-nothing by launching a Patreon, but it will still be more than the next-to-nothing I make now as well as the LITERAL nothing I will be making if the business is forced to close.

I continue to job hunt on a daily basis, mostly for remote work given my middle-of-nowhere location (if anyone knows of any legit positions I could look into PLEASE let me know—send me a PM, reply to this post, anything). But this will both motivate me to keep doing the things that make me happy and also provide a tiny bit of support to our financial situation.

I have also been in a long distance relationship going on 9 years now. Long distance as in nearly 9,000 miles and an entire ocean away. I try to visit every year, but obviously during Covid that was not an option (totally and completely understandable), and with our finances so precarious, it gets more and more difficult to see my now (as of my visit last year) fiance.

If I can manage to get the money together, we plan to elope during my visit this year. But our future is undeniably going to be difficult without money. Moving isn't cheap. Immigrating isn't easy.

But that's all on the back-burner for now, while we address the more immediate concerns.

I am motivated to do what I can to make ANY extra money while looking for a legitimate job to provide a more stable situation.

Any support—a reblog, a share, a pledge/subscription, a job listing suggestion, ANYTHING will be MASSIVELY appreciated.

I know life is difficult for pretty much everyone on the planet right now. If we could all help each other easily, we would. But I understand that that's not an easy ask for most people at this point in time. I hate having to resort to monetizing my passions, and asking people for support (not pressuring, but even asking is hard in the current state of the world).

But I see few other options.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my rant and please reblog/share <3

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