Manager... What'll... happen to me...
TW: Mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation.
In a lot of PMMM "discourse", even pre-Rebellion, there existed the idea that Homura's wish was fundamentally selfish, while Madoka's was fundamentally selfless.
This idea is often based off of the wording of Homura's wish. After all, Homura could have altered hers to simply make Madoka come back to life! Why couldn't she just have said, "I want Madoka Kaname to come back as a human girl"?
However, this "argument" of Homura's wish being "selfish" due to Homura wanting to basically protect Madoka instead of of "just" saving her hands-off is flawed from the start. Namely, because Madoka's wish has a similar catch:
Both of these wishes have a catch that can be considered selfish, but only Homura's is seemingly ever argued to be "bad". However, the same arguments that people use to call Homura selfish can be used with Madoka's wish here. After all, she could have just wished to erase any and all witches. But, instead, she wishes to do it with her own hands. Similar to how Homura didn't just want to protect Madoka, she wanted to be the one doing the protecting.
I'd like to bring up here that Homura is the only magical girl that, pre-Rebellion, is shown to not actually get her wish fully granted.
Everyone else gets their wish, even if it's twisted/not as they intended. But with Homura, the whole second part is cut out. She never becomes strong enough to protect Madoka, pre-Rebellion. Ever.
She loses the fight against Walpurgis. It's not even a close fight. Even in the anime timeline, when she's shown shooting it with guns/bombs/grenades/a train(?), the witch is nearly entirely undamaged. It is literally impossible for Homura to win. Not winning = Madoka not protected. Madoka not protected = the "I want to become strong enough to protect her" part of Homura's wish is not granted. Not in the slightest.
And this isn't like Homura just needs to keep trying, and she'll eventually be strong enough. The creator said by the anime, Homura has looped nearly a hundred times. One hundred attempts to protect Madoka, and she isn't able to do it even once.
And then, when Madoka becomes a God, she literally ceases to exist and cannot physically be protected at all, meaning Homura's wish then becomes literally impossible to fulfill.
Madoka (and Kyubey) tell Homura that Madoka's wish essentially erases her from existance. Any physical memory or evidence of her ever being a person is entirely wiped out. But Homura remembers her — how?
I'd like to argue that it's entirely possible that Madoka wanted Homura to remember her. After all, she gives Homura her ribbons, with a vague "But maybe you'll still be able to remember me."
The only people shown to remember her in any capacity are Homura herself, Madoka's toddler brother who is implied to only remember due to his age (and that he might forget when older), and her mother — who only says the name is nostalgic and comments on Madoka's/Homura's ribbons. Kyoko doesn't remember her. Mami doesn't remember her. Her father isn't shown to remember her. Mami/Kyoko show blatant confusion when Homura cries over Madoka, because they can't even recognize her name.
But how is Madoka wanting to be remembered possibly a bad thing?
It's not bad. But it does, again, touch on the idea that Homura = Selfish, Madoka = Selfless.
See, a main issue a lot of people have with Rebellion is that Homura's new world is bad because it is unstable.
Madoka is constantly seemingly on the cusp of remembering being the Law of Cycles (LoC). Sayaka seems to remember her as well before her memories are altered. This re-written universe she's made isn't stable. And, thus, people think it's "bad".
But Madoka's wasn't stable, either.
Madoka let Homura remember her existence. And, yes, I am saying "let her". Madoka gave Homura the ribbons as a token of rememberance. She has everyone forget her existance, all except for Homura.
She could have also altered/wiped Homura's memories. But she didn't.
Madoka letting Homura remember literally led to the events of Rebellion.
Homura remembers Madoka -> Homura tells Kyubey about Madoka/the previous universe -> Kyubey plots to trap Madoka/the LoC -> Homura begins to turn into a witch -> Homura feels the need to seperate the LoC from Madoka both to prevent Kyubey from harming/trapping her, and to follow what she believes to be Madoka's true desires (to not be the LoC) -> Homura creates a new universe that's, arguably, just as unstable as Madoka's.
Yet, despite this error, Madoka is still never called selfish for essentially causing a chain reaction.
You might see this post and go, "Oh, samble is trying to call Madoka selfish and evil!", but that's not it.
A major, major thing anyone who has issues with Homura (or any of the cast) forgets is that the characters are little girls. 13-15 year old middle schoolers. They are not grown adults. They are not mature people who make 100% rational, level-headed decisions (nobody does all the time, anyways). They are all deeply traumatized children manipulated by a force beyond their control.
Madoka is not a selfish character. She has low self worth, low self confidence, and can even be argued to be depressed. Her wish to defeat all witches "with her own hands"...
Is likely a side effect of this, in a way — in that she wants to do good. She wants to be "useful" and help people. She wants to have a purpose.
Homura in Timeline One has more similar characterization. Remember, Homura then wasn't this mysterious, edgy girl. She was physically disabled. Very shy and socially stunted. Behind on her education, bullied, etc. She also had self worth issues, and in canon was suicidal, or, at least, depressed enough to be influenced by a witch into becoming suicidal.
So why does she wish to protect Madoka instead of just wishing her back to life? Because Homura is Selfish and Evil™ and wants some sort of spotlight on her? No.
Homura is like Madoka, at this point. She doesn't feel like she can do anything worthwhile. She thinks she has no use, that she's unable to do anything right or good or helpful. But what she can try to do is save Madoka. Like what Madoka does is try to defeat all witches. Because it gives purpose. Because it let's them feel like, look, I feel worthless, but by doing this I must be doing something good. It's not because a traumatized thirteen year old is selfish. It's because she's canonically shown to feel like she's worthless.
Not even touching on the fact that Madoka's wish "erasing her from existance" when she canonically has these issues can read an awful lot like a cosmic suicide, and that Homura is canonically suicidal and self-hating in every movie she is in.
Taii: Women want me, fish fear me. The Piscine Mermaid is uncertain how to feel about me.
Catt: Women and fish fear me. The Piscine Mermaid desires me carnally.
Rose: The feelings of fish and women towards me are too varied and complex to be accurately described.
Hello, I am Heba Al-Anqar, 21 years old, a university student. My university was suspended due to the war. I am writing about my family: my father Bakr (54 years old), my mother Alaa (46 years old), and my sisters Aya (18 years old), Amal (15 years old), Muhammad (13 years old), and Maryam (8 years old). We have faced many challenges in this war, from the destruction of our home to the famine we continue to suffer in northern Gaza.
My father suffers from heart problems. He had open-heart surgery when he was 36 years old. He also suffers from cartilage problems. He had his pelvic joint replaced about two years ago, in addition to other health problems. He cannot work due to his health condition.
My mother also suffers from asthma and shortness of breath, in addition to the difficulty of obtaining treatment due to the conditions and the war.
This is our house, which was destroyed by war
We have become homeless in places of refuge, in addition to the difficulty of obtaining medicine, food, and daily expenses
I created this account to request your help in this difficult ordeal by donating to meet the necessary needs, as we were relying on social assistance before the war.
My goal is to help my family live in safety and provide the necessary necessities for living, as there is a high cost of living and difficulty in obtaining necessities. We ask for your help in leaving the Gaza Strip to save my family’s life. The cost of travel is $5,000 per adult and $2,500 per child, in addition to travel and accommodation expenses of $500 per month.
Together, we can support Heba and her family through this ordeal. Your donation, no matter how big, can make a difference in my family's life to get life and start a new life
If you are looking to support Heba and her family, please consider providing assistance directly or through relevant charitable organizations.
december (a mask shattered, a mask you can't bring back)
My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.
The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.
Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.
I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.
Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.
I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.
Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.
Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.
Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.
hii! can I request the nxx boys with a reader who used to be in an abusive relationship (now an ex) and an example situation when one of the boys raises a hand the reader thinks their going to git them so they flinch or when the boys cook the reader a table full of food the reader starts to sob because they're not used to eating in big amounts (ik I have that problem) all separate pls c:
srry if it's a bit too much u don't have to accept the request!
Hi friend! Sorry for the wait! This type of request is not a problem for me, but I will put it under a "read more" to be safe!
TW abuse mention; implied abuse; PTSD
❤️ Artem ❤️
Your first instinct upon seeing all the delicious dishes that Artem placed on the table was for your mouth to start watering.
Your second instinct was to consciously shut down that response before Artem could notice, and you managed to cut it off before even a drop of saliva could escape your lips.
You'd trained yourself how to do that in your last relationship, a long time ago.
When Artem finally sat down to join you, you didn't make eye contact with him. You just dipped your head politely and began to eat from the plate he had placed in front of you. If you avoided looking at the other dishes he'd placed on the table, from colorful grilled vegetables to aromatic jasmine rice, then you wouldn't crave them as much.
Artem needed more food than you anyway. He was larger, smarter, busier. He needed the energy, and you should be grateful he whipped up a plate for you at all.
That was what you had learned a long time ago. To be grateful for what you had and not to beg for what you didn't deserve.
Perhaps you ate too quickly, however, because your plate was empty within minutes. You sat quietly, waiting to see if Artem would stir up conversation. (He wasn't a highly talkative person, so you were equally content with sipping from your water glass in silence.)
Finally he spoke, and nothing could have prepared you for the concerned murmur of, "If you're still hungry, you can take more. Everything here is for us to share."
"... Huh?"
Now you couldn't help yourself from gawking at him, wide-eyed and perplexed. "N-no, I'm fine. You already made me a plate!"
Artem pensively prodded at a pepper. "Only to start you off," he explained. "I wasn't sure what your favorite foods are, or what you would enjoy most, so I gave you a little bit of everything and decided to put the rest here in their original dishes so you could decide on your own what you wanted to eat." His brow knitted in consternation as he added, the worry in his tone subtle but unmistakable, "Did you think that was all I would let you eat?"
The worry on his face dramatically increased in mere seconds. He nearly jumped out of his seat as he leaned over with a napkin to dab at your eyes. "You're crying. Are you crying?"
Clearly he hadn't expected this reaction from you, and honestly, you hadn't expected to react this way either. The only person more confused than him right now was you. All of this? For you to eat as you please? Any dish, any amount?
"I... You... You're so kind, Artem," was all you could manage to mumble out between your tears.
"I'm nothing special," he insisted, his deep ocean gaze gentle but firm. "I care about you. A lot. So please... eat up and take care of yourself, alright?"
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
💛 Luke 💛
"Luke, we're going to be late!"
Running on the same wavelength as the brunet sometimes did more harm than good. You had both arrived way too early for the escape room that you planned to do today with some friends, so you had camped out underneath a shady tree and watched ducks floating by on the lake.
Who knew counting ducks could make you fall asleep just like sheep?
"It's like a 5 minute walk! The building is right there!" Luke protested, but even his amused grin couldn't hide the hint of concern in his voice. "That's nothing for me!"
"Okay, then you will be on time, but I don't follow the Luke Pearce cardio regimen!" you whined. "And if you leave me in the dust, I'll never forgive you!"
You knew he wouldn't run off without you, so your "threat" was mostly in jest, but the fear that flickered across his eyes almost made you feel guilty.
Almost, but not guilty enough to stop you from sprinting ahead.
"Wait, wait!" Luke cried out suddenly as you began to dart off without him.
His words stopped you in your tracks, and you spun around as fast as you could to turn back towards him.
The heat coursing through your adrenaline-pumped veins immediately froze as a large hand came flying towards your face.
No. No! I messed up! I'm sorry!
With a shriek, you dropped to the ground, arms raised defensively above your head.
I took it too far. I wasn't funny. He's mad. He's mad he's mad he's mad and I deserve this. I deserve this.
Cowering on the ground with your eyes squeezed tightly shut, you braced yourself for impact. Maybe it'd be a smack, maybe a slap, maybe a punch. You weren't sure, but you knew it was coming.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
... why wasn't it coming?
Hesitantly you opened one eye, expecting to see rage ablaze in Luke's passionate coral eyes.
But instead you saw pure fear on his face, as his skin had gone white as a sheet and his hands pulled in close to his chest, shaking.
"Did I... scare you?" he asked carefully, his voice hoarse.
Why was he afraid? Wasn't he mad? Wasn't he...
Maybe your gut reaction was... wrong?
"I'm sorry," you whispered, and you slowly lowered your arms.
Luke looked as though he wanted to step forward, but he held himself back so as to avoid startling you. "You had a leaf in your hair," was all he said. "I wanted to get it out."
"I'm sorry," you repeated. You felt like a broken record, but as shaken as you still were, what else could you say?
Luke lowered himself onto one knee and tentatively reached a hand towards you, like he were coaxing a small animal. He seemed relieved as you inched a little closer to him.
When you finally got close enough for him to remove the leaf, he instead pulled you into his arms.
"Who do I need to kill, [Y/N]?"
"Luke, no."
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
💜 Marius 💜
You tried to keep your eyes off the clock, but the more time that passed, the more difficult that became.
While you had no doubt that Marius von Hagen, of all people, could easily get another reservation at a high-end restaurant, you knew he had been looking forward to taking you to this particular spot for weeks now. But luck had not been on his side this week, as Pax was swamped from left to right with deals to close and disputes to settle. Marius had been sleeping even less than usual; he wouldn't admit it to you, but even if he covered the bags under his eyes with makeup and chugged coffees, you could see the fatigue in the way his eyes had lost a lot of sparkle.
You loved the mischievous gleams and artistic sparks in his eyes, and if this date was only going to cause him more stress...
"Hey, Mar--"
"You will see me at 2:00 tomorrow, or you will find another buyer! Capice?"
Everything else in the room melted away all at once. The clock. Vincent's apologetic face. The Pax sign behind the desk. The huge windows revealing the sunset. All of it, all of it faded into oblivion as soon as that deep, loud, angry voice hit your ears.
Like a thunderstorm had let loose a ferocious flash of lightning and deafening clap of thunder just above your head, all your senses kicked into high gear to focus on one thing:
Stay alive. Stay alive. Get low, get quiet, stay alive.
You weren't sure when Marius hung up the phone. You weren't sure when Marius walked over to you. You weren't even sure where you were.
Perhaps it was for the best that you couldn't see what Marius saw right now: the person he loved most in the world, crouching behind a couch with hands clapped over their ears, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and murmuring quietly and rapidly in an effort to stay grounded.
Marius von Hagen had money, power, and influence beyond what most people could dream, but even he couldn't stop a trauma response in its tracks.
You flinched as you felt a large weight drop on top of your head, but slowly you unclenched your jaw as you realized it was a large but gentle hand, stroking your hair rhythmically.
You dared to open your eyes, slowly fluttering your eyelids open until Marius' concerned, exhausted face came into clear view.
"I'm sorry I yelled," he murmured.
You shook your head, and as you pulled your hands away from your ears, you tried to reach out and pat him on the shoulder. But your hands were still shaking, and you cursed yourself silently as you realized you wouldn't be able to comfort him like this. "You've been under a lot of stress."
Marius let out a low, self-deprecating chuckle. "That's no excuse. I can't fulfill my very important role if I lose my cool like that."
"The President of Pax isn't allowed to get upset?"
Marius snorted. "Not that role. Nobody cares about me as president, anyway. I mean as your lover."
Before you could even fully process his words and tell him how touching and sincere they were, Marius gently flicked your forehead.
"Besides, I'll be less stressed now that I called off the deal with that old curmudgeon. Ready for dinner, babe?"
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
💚 Vyn 💚
Stealth. Stealth. You were the embodiment of stealth.
Phase 1 had been easy. Since you were staying in Vyn's guest room tonight as he had to get up early (or at least attempt to) tomorrow, he hadn't noticed you tip-toeing out at midnight. That room was around the corner from his own bedroom, after all, and his closed door meant he couldn't see you sneak over to the stairs.
Phase 2 had been a little more challenging: the stairs themselves. In order to avoid any creaking that could give you away, you had decided to crawl along the side and test each step to figure out where the sturdiest part was. (You had also made a mental note to inform Vyn that the third step from the bottom definitely needed to be repaired, because it squeaked like a rusty hinge.)
Phase 3 was almost complete and going off without a hitch. You had just turned the corner into his kitchen, and now the refrigerator door was in plain sight. The hardwood was a bit of a pain compared to sneaking around on carpet, but your socks should be sufficiently muffled on the kitchen tile. You inhaled deeply and gave your stomach a reassuring pat.
'Soon. Soon we will be appeased.'
Gingerly you stepped across the tile, gently you opened the door, and with a victorious smile, you inspected the glowing contents of Vyn's refrigerator.
Jackpot!
As you debated whether to grab yogurt, cheese, or some celery to scoop up peanut butter, a low voice sounded behind you.
"If you want a midnight snack, might I recommend something low sugar so that you can fall asleep shortly after?"
You nearly screeched as you slammed the door shut and whirled around with your back pressed against its cold metal surface. Suppressing a whimper, you raised your arms defensively in front of your abdomen and face as you looked up to an amused pair of glimmering golden eyes.
"I... I'll go back to bed. I'm sorry. I didn't..."
Excuses swarmed your head like a mess of bees, but you doubted any of them would spare you from your inevitable fate.
They had never saved you in the past, after all.
"Please don't be mad...."
You regretted the words as soon as they came out of your mouth. That would just make Vyn angrier! You couldn't bear to look at him, so you turned your head away and held your breath as you waited for his response.
"Why would I be mad?"
Surprised by these words and how genuine they sounded, you dared to take a peek at Vyn. He didn't even look sleepy as he gazed at you with knitted brow and a fretful frown on his pale face. "If anything, I'm... disappointed." He sighed softly and extended a hand to you. "Let me help you up, darling."
You weren't sure your quivering legs would support you even with Vyn's help, so you kept one hand on the refrigerator door as Vyn helped you to your feet. "Disappointed?" you echoed, unable to quash your curiosity.
"Of course. I am, after all, an excellent pastry chef, if I do say so myself." His gaze softened as he guided you slowly to one of the seats behind the kitchen counter. "The thought that you'd rather snack on cheese instead of a fresh tiramisu, matcha tart, or mille-feuille... well, that is quite the blow to my self-esteem."
Was he... trying to lighten the mood? You couldn't be sure if he was serious or joking. "I... shouldn't be hungry. You gave me plenty to eat."
Vyn didn't seem bothered by that. "No 'should' or 'shouldn't' applies here. You are hungry, and I simply cannot allow that." He chuckled and opened the refrigerator, tutting softly as he reviewed its contents. "I'll have to regretfully inform you I am low on eggs, but perhaps next time I can make you a crème brulée."
As relief flooded over you, you allowed yourself to smile. "... I don't think I trust you with a torch at this hour, anyway."
Vyn drummed his fingers against the counter. "Harsh, but understandable." He sighed. "Now then, please select a dessert, unless you want me to psychoanalyze everything that happened just now instead."
"Strawberry shortcake, please!"
Please help us arrange the costs of food, water and medicine for the children and their sick grandmother.
Please help us leave the Gaza Strip to a safer country to start a new and better life
Cliff, he/him 🏳️⚧️ give a clown caffeine and you'll create a one-man circus
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