#shared heritage

[howdoesone]

How does one start a club called "Kids of Donor 1234" without making it sound like a secret society?

In the age of modern reproductive technology, many children are born through sperm donation. As these children grow up and seek connection with others who share their unique origins, the idea of forming a club like “Kids of Donor 1234” can be both appealing and daunting. The challenge lies in creating a group that fosters a sense of community and support without it feeling exclusive or…

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

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A post shared by Kastellan Charlottenburg (@schloss_charlottenburg)

German and English (second text)

👑 Zum bevorstehenden Thronwechsel in Dänemark: Margrethe II. – eine direkte Nachfahrin Königin Luises von Preußen

Übermorgen, am 14. Januar, zweiundfünfzig Jahre nach ihrer Thronbesteigung, wird Königin Margrethe II. von Dänemark nun abdanken und ihrem Sohn, der ihr als König Friedrich X. folgen wird, die Regierung übergeben.

Aus diesem Anlass lohnt es sich, einen Blick auf die Verwandtschaft zu werfen, die Königin Margrethe II. mit dem einstigen preußischen Herrscherhaus verbindet: Gleich von mehreren Seiten ist die Monarchin nämlich die vierfache Urenkelin der preußischen Königin Luise.

In unserem aktuellen Beitrag auf unserer 👑Facebookseite Schloss Charlottenburg👑 erfahren Sie mehr über die Verwandtschaft Margrethes II. zu Königin Luise. Wir wünschen Ihnen anregende Unterhaltung.

👑In Berlins größtem Konigsschloss können Sie von Dienstag bis Sonntag zwischen 10 und 16.30 Uhr auf den Spuren der Königin Luise wandeln. Im Neuen Flügel erwarten Sie das elegante Appartement Luises sowie die Wohnräume ihres Mannes König Friedrich Wilhelms III. Wir freuen uns auf Ihren Besuch.

Fotos © Det danske kongehus; Thomas Weiberg (Büste der Königin Luise in der Sommerwohnung Friedrich Wilhelms II. im Schloss Charlottenburg.)

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👑 On the upcoming change of throne in Denmark: Margrethe II - a direct descendant of Queen Luise of Prussia

The day after tomorrow, on 14 January, fifty-two years after her accession to the throne, Queen Margrethe II of Denmark will abdicate and hand over the reign to her son, who will succeed her as King Frederick X.

To mark the occasion, it is worth taking a look at the family ties that link Queen Margrethe II to the former Prussian dynasty: On several sides, the monarch is in fact the fourfold great-granddaughter of Prussian Queen Luise.

In our current article on our 👑Facebook page Charlottenburg Palace👑 you can find out more about Margrethe II's relationship to Queen Luise. We wish you stimulating entertainment.

👑In Berlin's largest royal palace, you can follow in the footsteps of Queen Luise from Tuesday to Sunday between 10 am and 4.30 pm. Luise's elegant flat and the living quarters of her husband King Friedrich Wilhelm III await you in the New Wing. We look forward to your visit.

Photos © Det danske kongehus; Thomas Weiberg (Bust of Queen Louise in the summer flat of Frederick William II in Charlottenburg Palace).

[pat-lechem]

If you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas

מִי שֶׁהוֹלֵךְ לִישֹׁן עִם כְּלָבִים צָפוּי לְהִתְעוֹרֵר עִם פַּרְעוֹשִׁים

[longliveblackness]

The Black American Heritage Flag was designed in 1967 by Melvin Charles and Gleason T. Jackson.

According to the designers, the blunted sword represents pride, while the gold wreath represents peace, prosperity and everlasting life.

Red is for the blood that has been shed by the community for freedom, justice and human dignity, and black represents the pride in their skin color and the black community.

•••

La bandera de la herencia afroamericana fue diseñada en 1967 por Melvin Charles y Gleason T. Jackson.

Según los diseñadores, la espada desafilada representa el orgullo, mientras que la corona de oro representa la paz, la prosperidad y la vida eterna.

El rojo es por la sangre derramada de la comunidad por la libertad, la justicia y la dignidad humana, y el negro representa el orgullo por el color de su piel y la comunidad negra.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

species medley ft. gorgug and riz

[dragonageheritageposts]

More Palestinians who have reached out to me to spread their fundraisers. If you can't donate, sharing a few of these can help a lot!

@mohammed2lana - link - €257 raised of €20,000 goal (only 9 donations)

link - kr7,420NOK raised of kr350,000 goal

@farahmohamed2005 - link - €277 raised of €8,000 goal

@abdelmutei - link - €13,380 raised of €25,000 goal

@saveomarfamily - link - $1,575 raised of $35,000 goal

@majedalgherbawi - link - $6,020 raised of $70,000 goal

@ahmed79ss - link - $12,797CAD raised of $50,000 goal

@omar-omars-posts - link - €2,335 raised of €50,000 goal

@nouraissue4 - link - €403 raised of €50,000 goal

@ibrahimhuss - link - $46,153 raised of $100,000 goal

@karemandohan1999 - link - $8,843 raised of $50,000 goal

[nonbinary-vents]

Argh I was looking at my eyes in the mirror and started thinking about how Jewish they look. And then I just started crying because like. I’ve seen my eyes in so many Jews, in so many eras. The same eye shape, the same heavier lids and under eyes and dark brown irises and slight slope and intensity and just. So many times and places and histories of our people, and I can see my eyes. And they are so, so beautiful

[omgthatdress]

[brothermoth]

Me taking a modern Latin America (1800-1980s) class specifically so I can relate everything to the sociopolitical climate of the Red dead redemption series (RE: doing research so I can write historically informed pornography)

[pinkcreamypeach]

"Please don't let me be alone...”

(TW: Panic attacks, mentions of kidnappings, and Burn injury.

Sorry to all the Bowser lovers, but this is just for my AU. My princess peach has a very bad relationship with him. Oh, and I'm writing Peach with trauma for this story, so sorry, Peach lovers. (I’m a Peach lover myself.) Anyways, it’s heavy on the angst but has a happy ending.

In a realm bathed in eternal sunshine, Princess Peach lay on a soft, golden blanket, her hand reaching towards the brilliant blue sky. The clouds above her lazily shifted into whimsical shapes playful creatures, a Yoshi surrounded by eggs that made her laugh with pure joy. Around her, the land was filled with life, and her beloved toads played happily, weaving crowns of vibrant flowers. Their laughter was like music, echoing through the meadows.Toadette, her cheeks flushed with excitement, bounded over to Peach, holding up a flower crown for her. The little toad’s eyes sparkled with joy. Peach smiled, giggling as she lowered her head to let the tiny one crown her.

“What a beautiful crown... Thank you, my little sweet,” Peach said, pressing a soft kiss to Toadette’s forehead. The toad beamed, her blush deepening as she scampered off to join the others in their playful game. Peach’s heart swelled with happiness, her smile brighter than the sun above.

But suddenly, a flash of red caught her eye. A familiar red cap Mario’s cap. She reached out to touch it, her fingers brushing the soft fabric. She could smell the sweet scent of mango on it, a scent she had come to associate with him. A soft blush spread across her cheeks as she held it close, feeling the warmth of his presence. Her fingers traced the stitching of the M, and for a moment, she allowed herself to close her eyes, feeling the soft fabric against her chest, a sense of peace settling in her heart.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Mario walking away, his figure disappearing into the depths of Mushroom Forest. The path ahead was obscured by towering tree mushrooms, their thick trunks rising like giants.

“Mario! Mario!” Peach called, holding his cap tightly in one hand, the other lifting her ballgown as she hurried after him. With each step, she got closer, but he always seemed to move farther away. The soft, green grass beneath her heels gave way to a growing sense of unease. The air around her shifted, a strange, acrid smell starting to fill her nose. As she ran, the sky above her darkened, the once cheerful blue now streaked with deep reds and oranges. Smoke began to swirl around her, and the world seemed to tilt, spinning into something unfamiliar.

Peach’s breath quickened, her heart racing as she tried to catch up. The air turned thick and choking, the smoke blinding her, and the sweet scent of the forest gave way to a burning sting in her lungs. Panic gripped her chest. She stumbled over a root, falling hard to the ground. Her ankle was ensnared by a thick vine, her hair tangled with grass and petals. The flower crown she had been so proud of, was now wilting, the flowers decaying in her hair.

Her breath was ragged, her body trembling as distant screams reached her ears. She lifted her head and saw the impossible a nightmarish vision unfolding before her eyes. Her kingdom, once peaceful and serene, was now engulfed in flames. The toads, her people, were trapped in cages, their cries of fear and anguish cutting through the air. The sky had turned a fiery red, the clouds now swirling in ominous, black masses.

Her heart ached. No... not her people! Not her kingdom!

She rushed forward, her dress flying behind her, her hands reaching for the cages. She grasped the cold metal bars with all her might, her voice breaking as she cried out, “NO! Let them go! Let them go!”

But her hands burned as the metal grew unbearably hot, the flames of destruction licking at her skin. She could feel the heat searing through her palms, her flesh blistering, but still, she gripped the bars, unwilling to let go. Toadette’s tear-streaked face pressed against her hand, desperately begging for her to save them. Peach’s vision blurred with tears, her heart thundering in her chest as she held on, enduring the pain, unable to stop the inevitable.

The cage began to rise, pulling the toads higher and higher, and Peach’s strength began to fail her. Her grip loosened, her hands shaking violently. The pain was unbearable, her nerves fried by the heat. With a final, heart-wrenching scream, she fell backward, her body crashing to the ground. The wind howled as Mario’s cap was tossed from her grasp, tumbling away just beyond her reach. Desperation clawed at her heart. She tried to run, to reach for it, but her hands burned, useless could not obey. Her body betrayed her as she stumbled and fell into a cage of her own, the bars slamming shut with a deafening clang.

Tears streamed down her face as she lay on the cold floor of the cage, her body broken and her spirit shattered. She lifted her head, her hair falling around her face like a veil, and looked down at her hands. The burns had faded, but now, there were white gloves on her hands, and the familiar feeling of her wedding dress, white as snow, clung to her. A white veil hung loosely from her head, the fabric rippling in the still, smoky air. She was no longer the carefree princess in the fields. She was a prisoner of a nightmare.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she gazed into the darkness around her. There, standing in the shadow, was Bowser. His eyes glowed like burning embers, his jagged teeth gleaming as he stepped closer. His monstrous size loomed over her, a terrifying presence that made her feel small and insignificant.

“You’re finally mine… my Koopa Queen,” Bowser’s voice rumbled, a cruel grin twisting his face.

Peach recoiled, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She shook her head, the words stuck in her throat. She wanted to scream for Mario, for help, but no sound came.

“Mario... H-he…” she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Bowser’s laugh echoed in the air, and he spat out the charred remains of Mario’s cap, the tattered fabric, and the blackened bones of her love landing before her. Peach’s eyes widened in horror as she looked at the remains. Her body trembled as she reached for them, cradling the bones against her chest. Tears fell from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks, mingling with the ashes and soot. Her fingers brushed the cold, brittle bones, and her heart shattered.

The world around her seemed to close in, suffocating her. Bowser’s laughter echoed in her ears, cruel and mocking, as her own sobs drowned out any hope of escape. Her body was on fire with grief, her soul consumed by the crushing weight of loss.

“No... No… NOOO! MARIO!!” She screamed.

━━━━━━◇❖◇━━━━━━━━━━◇❖◇━━━━━━━

Peach jerked awake, her heart racing as if it had been ripped from her chest. She sat up violently, gasping for air, her body slick with sweat. Her disheveled hair clung to her face, and her eyes were swollen and teary, her skin flushed from the panic that gripped her. Her breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, and her chest felt tight like it was caving in on itself. The sound of her breathing echoed in her ears, growing louder and harder to ignore. Each breath felt as though it could be her last, and the rawness of her voice barely broke through her shaky sobs.

Her hands shook uncontrollably as they gripped the sheets, her pink nightgown sticking to her damp skin. She could feel the tears running down her face, but there was nothing she could do to stop them. Her nose was stuffy, clogged from her panicked sobs, and the air seemed to grow heavier by the second. Her entire body was a tense, shuddering mess, struggling to hold it together. Her bangs hung in front of her eyes, a veil that only intensified her feeling of disorientation.

Her breaths became more frantic, her chest rising and falling with each strained inhale, the air too thick to breathe in fully. She curled into herself, wrapping her trembling body in the blankets, trying to find comfort, though her heart still pounded against her ribcage like a drum. She couldn't make the sobs stop each one a broken plea for help, a sound that felt so foreign in her own throat.

Her eyes turned toward the balcony as the curtains fluttered softly in the breeze, the moonlight spilling in like a cool, distant reminder that the world was still spinning, even if her own had stopped. The rhythmic flow of the curtains was the only thing that seemed steady in the chaos of her mind. She shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to calm down. She just needed to breathe, to hold herself together, to make it through the night.

Please, not right now, she begged silently. Please, just let it stop...

Suddenly, a soft, familiar voice broke through the noise in her mind.

“Principessa...?”

Her heart nearly stopped at the sound. Her body went stiff, the sobs catching in her throat as her gaze snapped toward the source of the voice. Mario. It was Mario.

Her breath hitched, and she coughed violently, swallowing back the bile rising in her throat. She was trembling so badly now, but somehow, hearing his voice was both the worst and the best thing she could have hoped for. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to push down the wave of nausea that followed. Slowly, she lifted her head from the covers, still struggling to find her bearings.

“M... Mario… is that… you?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, cracking as she tried to wipe away the remnants of her tears with the sleeve of her nightgown. She sniffled, her voice hoarse, and her chest tight with the weight of everything that had just happened.

Mario immediately recognized the unease in her behavior how her body was still shaking, how she was trying to pull herself together but struggling. His heart clenched with concern as he took a step closer, his gaze softening as he saw the tears still staining her cheeks, her nose red and stuffy. He could feel her discomfort, the distance between them, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. So, he paused, standing a few steps away, letting her take the lead when she was ready.

“Principessa, are you okay?” His voice was gentle, and careful, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile calm. He gave her the space she needed, not wanting to make things worse. Instead, he went to work, preparing a warm cup of chamomile tea and grabbing a box of tissues. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could think of to help.

For what felt like an eternity, Peach sat there, trying to calm her breathing, to bring herself back from the edge. Her heart still beat erratically in her chest, but she focused on the simple task of breathing in and out, slow and steady, as the minutes passed. After what seemed like ages, she finally looked at him, her eyes red-rimmed, her cheeks streaked with the remnants of her tears. The tightness in her chest had lessened, and her breaths had become less desperate, though the exhaustion was still heavy in her bones.

She didn’t have to say anything; Mario could see the relief in her eyes, even as they remained soft with lingering pain. He handed her the warm tea and a tissue, his presence a calm that began to steady the storm inside her.

Peach took the tea from him with trembling hands, offering him a weak but grateful smile. She sipped slowly, the warmth of the drink soothing her raw throat, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a faint sense of peace settle over her. She wasn’t alone. Mario was here. And for now, that was enough.

“...Having the same nightmares again?”

Mario’s voice was gentle, as he settled into his seat, allowing Peach the space she needed. He watched as she quietly blew on her tea before taking a small sip, the warmth grounding her. It always took a while, minutes of silence, deep breaths, the occasional fidgeting but eventually, the fear would fade just enough for her to speak.

She finally looked at him.Her tired, baggy eyes told him everything before she even opened her mouth. Her thick lashes, damp from earlier tears, trembled as she blinked. The exhaustion, the lingering remnants of a panic attack iit was all there, written on her delicate features.

“...Yes,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I know I should be over it. You always save me… I shouldn’t still be having these… stupid nightmares.”

Her grip on the teacup tightened, her fingers trembling slightly. She frowned, scrunching up her nose in frustration at herself.

Mario reached out, his warm hand rubbing gentle circles on her shoulder. The touch startled her out of her self-loathing, grounding her in the present. His brown eyes, filled with concern, shimmered under the soft light.

“These nightmares aren’t stupid,” He reassured her, his voice steady, certain. “You suffered, Peach. Just because you weren’t physically hurt doesn’t mean what you went through wasn’t real. Trauma doesn’t have to leave scars to be painful… Bowser hurt you.”

His voice darkened slightly at the mention of that name. There was no mistaking the quiet resentment there.

Peach bit her lip.

“But he hurt you and Luigi worse than me…” Her voice wavered, heavy with emotion. “All I do is get kidnapped. You have to fight your way to me. You get burned, frozen, drowned you go through so much… all because of me.”

The weight of guilt pressed into her chest, making her curl into herself, hugging the empty teacup like it could somehow protect her from the shame clawing at her heart.

And then, warmth.

Mario wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his chin resting against her shoulder. Peach sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden contact, but then she melted into him. She clung to him, burying her face in his hair, the scent of mango wrapping around her like a lullaby.

Mario made everything feel lighter.He made everything feel safer.They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, until a soft growl broke the silence.

Peach blinked, realizing it was her own stomach that had betrayed her. Mario pulled back slightly, a knowing smile playing at his lips. But as soon as he moved, she instinctively tightened her arms around him, reluctant to let go.

He chuckled, cheeks dusting pink, but he didn’t pull away.

“I should make you something to eat,” He murmured.

“Please don't leave me alone…”

It was barely audible, but the way she gripped his hands so tight, as if he might disappear made his heart ache. Her blue eyes shimmered with unspoken fear, the fear of waking up alone, of being taken away, of losing him.Mario squeezed her hands gently, a quiet promise in the way his fingers brushed over hers.

“I would never… Mio caro.”His voice was warm, like the first rays of sunrise after a storm.

Peach’s lips trembled, but this time, it wasn’t from sadness it was from the small, delicate smile that began to form. Mario held her hand with such care, as if she were something precious, something irreplaceable. Slowly, he began to walk backward, still holding onto her, their eyes locked. Peach found herself smiling more and more, her heart fluttering in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

Then—THUD!

Mario bumped into the door.Peach giggled, and Mario, a little flustered, laughed with her. The sound was soft, sweet, and full of something unspoken yet deeply felt.

And at that moment, Peach knew.

No matter how many nightmares came, no matter how heavy the past weighed on her, she would always have this

HIM ❤️

And that made everything feel just a little bit lighter.

@keylovesstuff @bberetd @peaches2217 @silenzahra

[trailmixtime]

idk. i just think it's kind of shitty to make fun of celtic languages or try to project english rules onto them. just because a language has a latin alphabet doesn't mean it follows english spelling rules and celtic spelling rules actually make sense when you actually learn the rules. and just because a word may sound like a rude or adult word in english doesn't mean it's ok to make fun of it. it's as beautiful as any other word in the language and shouldn't be made fun of i think.

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

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Deutsch/English (second text!)

👑 Ein preußisches Diadem im Besitz Königin Margrethes II. von Dänemark Das häufig von Margrethe II. getragene sehr repräsentative Diadem mit zahlreichen Diamanten und großen Tropfenperlen war zusammen mit anderen Juwelen ein Hochzeitsgeschenk König Friedrich Wilhelms III. von Preußen für seine jüngste Tochter Luise (1808-1870). Prinzessin Luise heiratete im Mai 1825 ihren Cousin Prinz Wilhelm Friedrich der Niederlande (1797-1881). Das Prinzenpaar lebte in den Niederlanden in einem ›Huize De Paauw‹ genannten klassizistischen Palais in Wassenaar sowie auf seinen preußischen Besitzungen Schloss Muskau in der Oberlausitz und im schlesischen Schloss Schildau, das König Friedrich Wilhelm III. 1839 seiner Tochter schenkte. Unter den Linden in Berlin stand dem Paar das sogenannte Niederländische Palais als Absteigequartier zur Verfügung. Bis heute erinnert die Luisenstraße in Berlin-Mitte an die Prinzessin, von der ihr Vater Friedrich Wilhelm III. meinte, sie sähe ihrer früh verstorbenen Mutter sehr ähnlich. Über ihre gleichnamige Tochter ist Prinzessin Luise eine der Stammmütter der heutigen dänischen Königsfamilie und die dreifache Urgroßmutter Königin Margrethes II. Text © Thomas Weiberg; Fotos © Det danske kongehus; Thomas Weiberg (Portait Friedrich Wilhelms III. im Schloss Charlottenburg.)

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👑 A Prussian tiara owned by Queen Margrethe II of Denmark

Often worn by Margrethe II, this very prestigious tiara with numerous diamonds and large pearls was, together with other jewellery, a wedding gift from King Frederick William III of Prussia for his youngest daughter Luise (1808-1870).

Princess Luise married her cousin Prince William Frederick of the Netherlands (1797-1881) in May 1825. The princely couple lived in the Netherlands in a neoclassical palace called 'Huize De Paauw' in Wassenaar as well as at their Prussian estates Muskau Castle in Upper Lusatia and Schildau Castle in Silesia, which King Frederick William III gave to his daughter in 1839. Under the Linden trees in Berlin, the so-called Dutch Palace was available to the couple as a place to stay. To this day, Luisenstraße in Berlin-Mitte commemorates the princess, who her father Friedrich Wilhelm III thought looked very much like her mother, who died young. Through her daughter of the same name, Princess Luise is one of the progenitors of today's Danish royal family and the triple great-grandmother of Queen Margrethe II.

Text © Thomas Weiberg; Photos © Det danske kongehus; Thomas Weiberg (Portrait of Frederick William III in Charlottenburg Palace.)

[whogirl42]

One of my FAVOURITE things of Bridgerton s3 p2 has to be how much all the Bridgerton siblings ADORE Kate

[satans-knitwear]

She has chosen violence. Who will her next victim be??

[longliveblackness]

Stephen Bantu Biko

Stephen Biko was born in 1946, in King William's Town in the Eastern Cape, South Africa. As a medical student at the University of Natal, he was involved with the National Union of South African Students (NUSAS) and went on to found the South African Students' Association (SASO).

At a time when the African National Congress and Pan-Africanist Congress were banned by the government, SASO filled the political vacuum by evolving into the Black Consciousness Movement.

In 1972 Biko was expelled from the university, and the following year he was banned by the authorities. Despite this, he played a key role in organizing the protests that culminated in the Soweto Uprising of 1976.

He helped to unite over 70 black consciousness groups which helped to develop the Black Consciousness Movement and help advance the liberation struggle, building a vanguard party.

He was banned between 1975 and 1977 and caught, arrested and in police detention September 12, 1977 after being beaten mercilessly, he slipped into a coma to his death.

Although Biko never lived to write his memoirs, he left behind some revealing documents. African Lives includes a portion of an interview Biko gave to an American businessman a few months before he was detained and beaten to death.

He was assassinated because he represented power of African unity and the black consciousness and courage of the people. Long live the life, consciousness, courage, contributions and legacy of Stephen Bantu Biko. May his spirit live and manifest in future generations.

•••

Stephen Bantu Biko

Stephen Biko nació en 1946 en la ciudad del Rey William en la Provincia del Cabo, Sudáfrica. Cómo estudiante de medicina en la Universidad de Natal, estuvo involucrado con la Unión Nacional de Estudiantes Sudafricanos (NUSAS) y luego fundó la Organización de Estudiantes Sudafricanos (SASO).

En un tiempo en el cual el Congreso Nacional Africano y el Congreso Pan-Africanista fueron prohibidos por el gobierno, SASO llenó la aspiradora política al evolucionar y convertirse en el Movimiento de Conciencia Negra.

En 1972, Biko fue expulsado de la universidad y al año siguiente fue exiliado por las autoridades. A pesar de esto, él jugó un rol importante en organizar las protestas que llevaron a la Rebelión de Soweto de 1976.

Ayudó a unir alrededor de setenta grupos de conciencia negra, lo cual ayudó a desarrollar el Movimiento de Conciencia Negra y ayudó con los avances para la lucha por la liberación, así creando un partido vanguardista.

Fue exiliado desde el año 1975 hasta 1977 y el 12 de septiembre de 1977, fue arrestando y puesto bajo detención policial. Luego de haber sido atacado sin piedad alguna, cayó en coma y falleció.

Aunque Biko nunca vivió lo suficiente para escribir su autobiografía, dejó unos documentos muy reveladores. Vidas Africanas incluye una porción de una entrevista que Biko le dio a un empresario estadounidense unos meses antes de que fuese detenido y golpeado hasta morir.

Fue asesinado porque él representaba el poder de la unidad africana, la conciencia negra y la valentía del pueblo. Larga vida a la vida, al conocimiento, a la valentía, contribuciones y legado de Stephen Bantu Biko. Que su espíritu viva y se manifieste en futuras generaciones.

[vice-like]

reading this now i can see why the exorcist world was gossiping abt it so much lol two past matoba rivals from "failed" clans suddenly working together would definetly be concerning to the status quo, but bc it's natsume's pov we only get a passing comment here, in miharu arc and most importantly in homura where natori actually is helping matoba instead

now i'm rethinking some things abt this situation, like seiji pointing out that natori was working with yorishima was pretty run of the mill bc he spies on natori ever since world unbent (and loooves some gossip as we know it), but having matsuzaki comment on it in the first homura chapter kinda implies that natori and yorishima getting closer recently is well known amongst exorcists and when you top this off with matsuzaki conspiring with shinobu and offering patronage to natori, well it puts things into perspective

which makes me think if natori was sly enough to make his new association with yorishima obvious to other exorcists on purpose, bc let's face it, if what you see on the surface is this would you ever think natori was matoba's personal informant? like idk if he was thinking abt "sharing burdens" ever since yorishima's introduction chapter, but these circunstances definetly make, i'm assuming, majority of exorcists not even consider him as a "support" for the matoba head, but maybe not shinobu tho