Hey guys! I posted this on ffn and AO3 on the day of London pride and I just want you to note something. A group of TERFs managed to lead the parade (it wasn't organised that way - it just happened). They had the typical signs, but they tried to get someone arrested because they had a trans pride flag, and they took photos of any suspect trans people and followed some to try and attack them. Trans people face a fucking lot of persecution within the community and it needs to be noted. This is, unfortunately, not a small minority with a loud voice. It is a majority (however small the percentage difference of supporters vs transphobic people is). This is why we still need pride. We need to be able to exist, and a lot of people within the community can't without persecution - even if we exclude trans people.

However, sad note over, here's the new chapter! Hope you guys enjoy and had a good day.

CW: Homophobia

When did you start writing?

Malik had to think about that one for a few minutes. About four years ago, he fibbed. I joined the high school newspaper for an extracurricular activity.

That's really cool! Ryou replied. The only thing I did in high school was Dungeons and Dragons.

Malik smiled. What a nerd. That's still pretty cool. I don't think I've ever done RPGs before.

He could practically hear Ryou gasping as the three dots came up under his name, then disappeared, then appeared, then disappeared. YOU WHAT?!

Never played before. It didn't really interest me. He jumped as his alarm rang and glanced at his phone. Time for maghrib. I'm sorry, I know you probably want to scream at me for that, but I need to go. Back in an hour or so. Saying he'd be back soon was a lot easier than saying he had to pray.

FINE BUT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT THIS ONCE YOU GET BACK!

Malik smiled slightly and closed his laptop, slipping off his bed. He kept his mat angled to the north all the time now. It was just easier than moving things around when he needed to pray.

He took a few breaths before beginning the obligatory ra'kahs, eyes closed. The words came easily to him, but the memories clouded his blinded mind, repeating over and over and over again as he made his way through the sequences with all the grace of an overweight American tourist.

He skipped the nafls after the two sunnah, rushing through them as well. He could hardly bare the ra'kah, but the sunnah were even worse. Sometimes he could see the blood when he recited them.

Just as he stepped off the mat, he heard Isis call him. "Malik, Rishid, dinner's ready." She tended to do her maghrib a few minutes early so that she could have dinner on the table for them when they finished.

Rishid hadn't had the heart to tell her that he didn't pray anymore; at all.

They were both sitting at the table when Malik came out, and steaming plates of kushari rested on the table in front of them. They began eating once Malik sat down beside Rishid. Isis stayed on the other side of the table.

They ate in silence with the news playing in the background, occasionally catching Malik's attention with mentions of Trump threatening to 'totally destroy' North Korea – Isis was still relatively certain that he was a safer option than Clinton was.

"-and there still has been no word on the arrests after an individual waved a gay pride flag in the air at a concert in Cairo." Malik's head shot up. Isis just continued eating. "Homosexuality is still a punishable crime in Egypt, and local police have been cracking down on the incident."

"Rightly so," Isis murmured, noting Malik's interest.

"You said earlier you didn't think it should be punished." He forced himself to look away.

"I said I didn't think they should be arrested because of the atrocities committed in those prisons," she corrected, carefully spooning her food into her mouth and chewing before continuing. "Such a crime against nature and Allah can't go unpunished, Malik."

His nails dug into the palms of his hands.

Rishid cleared his throat. "What's fuzzy, green, and will kill you if it falls on you?" No one responded. "A pool table." Silence took over the table again as the topic on the news changed to a hurricane.

Malik pushed his food around on his plate, eyes flickering between it and Isis. She had let her hair out of her khimar, which still covered her shoulders, so a sheet of black velvet flowed down to her back, wavy from the amount of pins she had secured it with to actually fit it into her headdress. She hardly ever let it down, even around her siblings.

"I just feel like you don't understand the severity of the action, Malik," she finally commented.

Malik scowled. "I don't see why it should be punishable."

"It's a crime against Allah."

"Allah created human beings perfectly," Malik snapped, a little louder than necessary. "It literally says in the Qur'an 'we have indeed created humankind in the best of moulds'."

"Yes, and it also condemns homosexuality as one of the worst sins." Isis merely ate another bite of kushari, as though discussing the weather. "The story of Lot-"

"That's likely to be condemning rape, or even lewdness. What if it was two men or women who weren't being lewd?" Malik challenged. "What if they never had sex in their lives but loved one another. Would that also be a crime?"

"Yes," Isis decided. "It is not about the act itself, but the intention to act."

"That's like arresting someone for a crime they didn't commit yet because they thought about it!"

Isis' eyes glinted. "Malik, calm yourself."

Malik took a deep breath. "Allah warned the village. Why do that if He wanted them to die for their crime? If Allah created humanity in His perfect image like the Qur'an says," he spoke slowly, "aren't you being blasphemous by saying that gay people deserve to be punished? He created gay people, so by saying that, you're saying they should be punished for something that He gave to them."

Rishid coughed into his dinner and Isis' face darkened. "Allah wasn't the one who created them," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous, almost inaudible over the news. "It was Iblis' temptations that ruined them. You would do well to remember that."

Ryou stared at the article. He and Malik hadn't actually exchanged surnames. Not yet, even though they had been chatting and sending each other articles for just over a month.

Ryou had even helped Malik edit his latest article on the disadvantages of the current church-state relations in America.

But here he was, on Facebook, staring at the very article that Malik had just shared on tumblr, shared by one of his old high school friends.

Extremities of Either Side: To Separate or Decline by Malik Ishtar.

Malik Ishtar. Ryou clicked into his profile. It was set to private, but he could see his profile photo – a smiling man of twenty-two with striking blonde hair and amethyst eyes that crackled, even captured in a still frame. His cover photo was the same Ducati motorcycle that he used as his profile photo on Tumblr.

One mutual friend: Akefia Hamada.

Ryou bit his lip. "Hey, Mehi?"

"Hm?" His girlfriend looked up from her book, blonde hair curling in around striking grey eyes despite it being tied up. She had her shayla around her neck, not quite bothered to wear it in the heat when it was just her, Bakura, and Ryou.

"Would it be creepy if I sent Malik a friend request on Facebook?" He kept his gaze on the computer. "One of my friends shared his article and I found his profile."

"So he never gave you his profile?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, a little."

"Bakura!" Ryou called, not satisfied with the response. Mehi rolled her eyes, though she was grinning.

"Yes it's creepy, and yes you should do it," their boyfriend replied, walking into the sitting room with a bowl of ice-cream.

Ryou nodded and hit the send friend request button. "Should you be eating that?"

Bakura scowled at him. "You're the one asking me if it's okay to stalk someone. I'm just eating."

"You have a performance tomorrow," Mehi reminded him.

"Fuck that." He dropped onto the couch beside her. "I can still dance and eat ice-cream."

"Mhm, sure."

"I can." He shoved a spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth as if to prove a point, and promptly grabbed his forehead as he swallowed.

Mehi smirked. "Brainfreeze?"

"No. Shut up." He groaned and leaned his head against her arm. Mehi chuckled and kissed his forehead.

"If you're going to eat it, just don't make yourself sick." Ryou shook his head, smiling. His computer chimed and he glanced down.

Malik Ishtar has accepted your friend request.

A message came in a few seconds later. Hey, how'd you find me on here?

"Did he already reply?" Mehi asked.

Ryou nodded, typing out his message. Hi! One of my friends shared your article.

Oh okay. I was worried you'd hacked my computer or something.

He grinned. I can if you want. He couldn't. At all.

Please don't.

Bakura snorted. "I'm almost jealous."

"Don't be." Ryou rolled his eyes. "He's just a friend."

"Isn't that how we started out?" Mehi winked.

"Shush. I've never met him anyway." Ryou shook his head as he typed. Don't worry, I won't.

Bakura hummed. "Maybe we should."

Ryou's head shot up. "What?"

"Well you like him a lot, why not add him to the group chat so we can meet him."

"That sounds dangerous with you involved." Ryou narrowed his eyes.

"Come on, we're harmless." Mehi smiled.

"Sure." Ryou rolled his eyes but added a bit to his message. Would you like to join a gc with my partners? I sent your articles to them and they really want to meet you now.

Uh yeah, sure. What are their names?

The asshole with white hair is Bakura (he/him), and the asshole with grey hijab is Mehi (she/her). Ryou looked up. "He'll join."

"Great." Bakura rubbed his hands together. "Time to corrupt another of your friends to our sinful ways."

Okay, cool. You can add me.

"I'm adding him now, no scaring him off." Ryou clicked into their chat and added Malik to the list.

Bakura immediately sent him a friend request and started group call. "What's up, bitch?"

"I see what you mean about him being an asshole, honey," Malik called.

"Hey!"

Hope this is okay so far! Please comment and let me know if you like it. See y'all next week.