So @helensrocks is a real instagram account that does do exactly what is said in the story. Please take a look at it and try to spread it if you can. Please review, and I'll see you nerds next week.

CW: Cancer, Malik's initiation, panicking

"I'm sorry, you did fucking what?" Ryou demanded, looking up at Malik.

Beneath him, Bakura sighed. "It was a protection spell, Ry. We didn't summon shit."

"Still. Mirrors are fuck-y. Don't mess around with them without at least telling me." Ryou scowled at Bakura and dipped his brush back into the purple face paint. "You of all people should know better than that, you fucking parasite."

"And yet, here we are." Bakura rolled his eyes as Ryou finished the rainbow on his cheek. "It was a spell I'm used to-"

"There's more magic in the world than just Egyptian," Ryou pointed out. "Fucking gods, Bakura. If we were in Ireland or Holland-"

"We're in Japan."

"Japan has a history too, dickhead."

"Guys, calm down," Malik sighed, crossing his legs. "Nothing bad happened." He adjusted his skirt slightly. He was still getting used to them, but he liked them. A lot more than he wanted to admit. Hasegawa had thought they were a good idea too. "I've been doing it for a few days a week and nothing new."

Ryou leaned back to glare at Bakura. "A few weeks and this is the first I'm hearing of this?"

"Calm down." Bakura nudged Ryou up so he could climb off the chair and glance at his face in the mirror. "Fuck, I look good."

"Of course you do," Ryou sighed. His anger evaporated, shoulders slumping, and now he just looked tired. "Did you at least burn sage? I mean it's the most low-level thing but please tell me you did that."

"Nope." Bakura rubbed a bit of foundation on his cheek to blend it better. "I already told you - we weren't summoning shit."

"Still." Ryou shook his head. "If you didn't carve the runes correctly on the edge-"

"Wait." Malik looked up from his Instagram. "Carve runes?"

Ryou frowned. "Yeah. You're meant to carve runes into the mirror frame specifically to channel energy through it. Also bless the glass. Otherwise it won't work." Malik stared at Bakura, who shifted uncomfortably. "You guys are fucking idiots," Ryou snorted after a moment. "You didn't do that?" Bakura shook his head. ",Well congratulations. You've been chanting meaninglessly into a mirror for the past few weeks."

Malik scowled at Bakura. "You're kidding."

Bakura shrugged. "I didn't know - I never did that before and it worked-"

"It worked because you had a god ka, rock hard abs, a good mind for strategy, and a dark god behind you that brought you back to life," Ryou reminded him. "Or maybe because the mirrors were already carved and blessed by your family since - you know - you were a kid."

"Maybe." Bakura frowned. "It's really been doing nothing?"

Ryou sighed and cleaned his hands with a baby wipe. "I can whip something up. Malik would need to activate it with his heka daily, but it shouldn't take more than a few seconds. It'll protect him from any spiritual harm."

"Perfect." Bakura grinned.

"Do I get a say in this?" Malik asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No." Ryou picked up his face paint. "Now do you want a pride flag?"

Malik grumbled under his breath but slid off his chair and sat across from Ryou on the couch. He crossed his legs so the other could have more access to his face.

"Which one?" Ryou dipped his brush in a glass of water to wash it off. "And any pattern?"

"Regular gay one," Malik replied, "and... I don't know. You pick."

Ryou tapped his lip with the brush. "If you want to wear a bit of lipstick or foundation-"

"I'd rather not." He preferred sticking to kohl, nail polish, and eyeshadow.

"Okay, how about-" Ryou dipped his brush in the red. "-a rainbow curving from here-" He touched the back of the brush to the top of Malik's cheek. "-to here-" He touched Malik's forehead. "-with a flower and some glitter?"

"Sounds perfect."

Malik did his best to sit still and not argue with Bakura as Ryou painted. Any time he talked, Ryou would shush him. It thankfully didn't take long, and then Ryou disappeared into the bathroom to do his own facepaint.

Bakura grinned and Malik as the door closed. "My next one was to say 'stay quiet if you think Trump is sexy'."

"I think even Ryou would have let me talk if you said that," Malik snorted, shaking his head. He glanced in the mirror. Ryou had painted two sunflowers at the top of the rainbow and one at the bottom, and a freckling of stars across it. "Does it look good?"

"Mhm." Bakura nodded. "Much better than mine."

"That's just because you demanded a regular rainbow strip!" Ryou called from the bathroom. "Your eyeshadow is on point."

"It is, to be fair," Malik admitted, grinning. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. "I'm sort of disappointed. I expected pride to be on in summer - or at least when it was a little warmer."

"Yeah, well Domino's weird." Bakura rolled his eyes and checked the braid in his hair again. Ryou had tied two red flowers into it and he couldn't stop toying with them. "Can you even see the eyeshadow behind my glasses?"

"Yes - you look very cute." Malik kissed the side of Bakura's head.

"Cute wasn't exactly what I was going for." Bakura frowned and adjusted his shirt. Eating ass is the only ethical consumption under capitalism was printed across it in block capitals, and Bakura had covered it with glitter. "Do I look punk enough?"

"No - you look like a softie." Ryou had returned. He tugged his binder slightly, adjusting it under his shirt. "You both ready?" He had painted a trans and bi flag on either cheek, and had put in every piercing he could - eyebrow, septum, lip, snake bites, and the six right ear and three left ear piercings.

"Yup." Bakura grabbed his signature red hoodie and pulled it on. "We were just waiting on you."

"I'm sure you were." Ryou grinned and grabbed his keys. "Let's go - the others are meeting us at the park."

"Atem's definitely not going to be there?" Malik checked again. If Atem was a trigger for him, he didn't want it to happen. Not that day.

"Nah. He doesn't like the 'commercialisation' of pride." Ryou shrugged. "Yugi will be though."

"That's fine." Malik relaxed a little. The bus down was nerve-wrecking. There didn't seem to be anyone else going to pride, although one or two had bags that could have been hiding flags. It didn't help that Ryou lived a good half hour away from the park in traffic, so Malik sat squirming on the seat, convinced that people were staring at him.

Bakura squeezed his hand every couple of minutes, and it helped a little, but he didn't fully relax until they stumbled off the bus with one of the bag-holders to the beat of drums and Cherry by Rina Sawayama. It was different to what he'd expected. There was no wave of colour despite the sound, no organised march through barricaded streets.

There was a parade - the closest float to him was a bus of drag queens - but it was only along the one street, and while some people watched, others wandered into various shops or chatted and took photos. The sound didn't even bother him as much as he'd thought it would - it was almost muted.

"Where are we going?" He forced himself to look over at Ryou.

Ryou grinned, teeth showing, and beckoned for them to follow him. He led them down through three back streets so they could get across the street. Bakura grabbed his hand and muttered something about bubble tea, but Ryou shook his head. "You can get some later!" He called over the music. "There'll be some at the park."

"There wasn't last year." Bakura frowned but didn't double back to the Vietnamese take-away restaurant selling it. "And that restaurant does it better."

"We'll get some later," Malik assured him. He wasn't planning on staying with Yugi's nerds the whole day, even if Atem wasn't there.

Bakura hummed and nodded. Ryou pulled out his phone and slowed a little, but once he got a message, he sped up again. "Alright, come on. They're near the fountain."

They weren't. The three wandered around the fountain for a few minutes before picking a path at random and walking down it. They had circled the park at least twice by the time someone called Ryou's name and they looked up one of the grassy hills sloping up along the sides of the path. Yugi was waving down at them, his hair spiked up, the edges now a royal purple instead of pink and blond. It suited him better. He was sitting in a half-circle with Anzu, Miho, and Mai, and Duke was on his phone a little off to the side.

"Asshole, you weren't at the fucking fountain," Bakura complained as they climbed the slope. He dropped down next to Mai. "We were looking for you for like, fifteen minutes."

"Sorry." Yugi smiled. "I said we were near the fountain-"

"Next time specify." Despite his words, Ryou returned the smile, and Malik's heart hurt for him. That poor man was going to get his heart broken - again.

"I will, I will," Yugi assured him, settling back into Anzu's side again. "Sorry, I'm distracted."

"That's fair," Ryou sighed, leaning back. His hair tumbled over his shoulders and Malik finally got a good look at his shirt, though the rainbow suspenders hid it a little. Both? Both? Both. Both is good. It was written in bi-pride colours. Probably a reference to a show he liked. "It's warmer than I thought it'd be."

"It's not warm enough for a t-shirt."

Ryou shrugged. "I'm willing to suffer for my aesthetic." He still wrapped his coat around his shoulders. It would warm up more as the day went on, according to Google, but it was still November. Nearly December. "So what are we doing today?"

"Well the old cinema is showing exclusively queer films," Mai commented. "If we go, Seto might join us after they give their speech."

"Atem might too," Yugi piped up. "Depending on the film."

Ryou chewed his lip. "What's on?"

Mai had to pull out her phone to double check the listings. "Love, Simon; Milk; Pride; Three Generations; Boy Meets Girl; Brokeback Mountain; Call Me By Your Name; and Moonlight."

Ryou chewed his lip. "Boy Meets Girl is an absolute classic."

"But so is Pride." Yugi countered.

"I wouldn't mind seeing that old woman saying, 'Where are my lesbians,' again," Mai admitted, adjusting her corset slightly.

Ryou sighed but shook his head. "As long as we don't watch Three Generations or Call Me By Your Name, I'm okay."

"What's wrong with those?" Duke asked, finally looking up from his phone.

"Oh, are you participating now?" Anzu raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, you know I had to work today." Duke shrugged and pocketed it.

Ryou sighed. "Big age gaps creep me out - especially when someone's underage - and Three Generations is just bad. It also has unsafe binding, and pushes way too much imagery, and-"

"Okay, we get it. Not Three Generations or Call Me By Your Name." Anzu pursed her lips. "How about Love, Simon? None of us have seen it and it's meant to be a feel-good film."

"I've read the book," Bakura admitted. "It wasn't bad. As far as crappy teen romance novels go, anyway."

"Okay, is everyone good to watch that?" Mai stretched.

"As long as it means we get inside, then yes." Yugi shivered. "I don't get how you guys can wear t-shirts in this weather."

"I mean, it's sunny." Ryou shrugged.

"Still."

Malik leaned his head on Bakura's shoulder as the two continued bickering. A soft smile graced his face as he glanced down towards the path. A small gaggle of teens, faces still carrying baby fat, wandered away from them, chattering and laughing, flags flying out behind them like capes. This felt normal. No one even mentioned his skirt, though he was certain only Mai had been told - and that was only because Bakura was terrible at clothes shopping, so he had called her to help Malik pick out some skirts and dresses.

His legs weren't even burning with the grass tickling them. He adjusted his rainbow waistcoat and kissed Bakura's cheek. "Want to find some alcohol and bubble tea?"

Bakura's eyes lit up. "Fuck yes."

"Not yet," Ryou called, looking over at them. "We'll stay together for a bit first." Bakura frowned. "We're getting bubble wraps for breakfast."

Bakura lit up again. "You found it?"

Ryou held up his phone. "Google maps blessed me with knowledge. It's a ten minute walk away."

Bakura chewed his lip. "Alright, I suppose we could stay with you until we eat."

They ended up staying with them while they wandered around the market, ducked into a clothes shop for some good old fashioned capitalism, bought pride-themed donuts, went to the M&M store where they all got make-your-own cups in their pride colours. Malik had, of course, taken photos. He couldn't let Mai's hard work at making a perfect sapphic flag go unseen. They stayed until the cinema. Atem had gone in ahead of them to get their tickets, and Malik wasn't willing to deal with him, so they split up.

"Bubble tea?" Malik checked and Bakura nodded. The Vietnamese restaurant was quiet and cool, a nice escape from the sweaty heat of the crowd. They ordered their teas - Malik got a strawberry juice one with lemon boba while Bakura ordered an ordinary milk one. They also got spring rolls to share and settled down at a small table towards the back of the restaurant to relax.

"This is nice," Malik murmured, taking a sip of his drink. Bakura pushed his fringe out of his face. "I mean, I kind of thought it would be messier. And louder. And that we'd have to be in the parade. But just hanging out in this-" He gestured to his skirt. "-without getting weird looks is... really nice."

"It is." Bakura took his hand and smiled. "I'm glad you're here for this."

"Me too." Malik returned the smile and they finished their tea in silence.

They emerged from the restaurant a little while later just in time to see a foreign boy with red hair drop something behind a plant, take a photo of the restaurant, and walk away.

Malik cringed. "We could just walk away." He really didn't want to have to chase someone down. Not when they were having such a good time.

Bakura shook his head. "We should at least check."

It wasn't a bomb. It couldn't be. It was too small, and the boy hadn't done anything other than drop it. And it was Domino - why would anyone attack Domino pride when they could attack Tokyo instead?

Malik still found himself holding his breath as Bakura crouched down to look into the plant pot. "Well?"

Bakura shook his head and pulled out a small, painted rock. "It's fine." He stood up again and showed it to Malik. The rock was painted in the pansexual pride flag colours, with a small, cartoon elephant and the name HELEN over it. Malik frowned and took it, turning it over. On the back was the instagram symbol, sloppily painted, and a username.

"Want to check it?" Bakura asked, watching him.

After a moment, Malik nodded and pulled out his phone. He typed it into the search bar - helensrocks. It was a small page - less than five hundred followers. Helen, 29/07/1970-17/12/2017 sat as the name, and the posts were full of painted rocks like the one they had just found.

Malik reloaded the page and a new one came up - the one from the restaurant. The boy was holding it with a small smile - he had the same suspenders as Ryou, and a shirt that read PRIDE in rainbow letters.

Malik scanned the photo description. This photo was placed in Domino, Japan. I made a bunch of pride rocks and left them all across Domino. I made them because my mom was always really supportive and did her best to be understanding with me, and I know that if she could have been here with me today, she would be. These ones are very special to me, and this and Dublin pride have been a little bittersweet, but I'm proud of who I am and I know my mom was too. A little further down, it continued, My mother died in December. She loved to travel, and elephants were her favourite animal, so we put these rocks for her worldwide in memory of her. If you make a rock and put it anywhere, please send us a message with a photo and your name and location. For every rock placed, we will donate €5 to cancer research in your name.

"What does it say?" Bakura asked, and Malik had to blink a few times. He almost hadn't clicked that it was in English, and though Bakura could speak it, he couldn't read it very well.

"It, uh-" He shook his head. "It's rocks that this guy made in memory of his mother. She died from cancer, I think. He's been putting them everywhere he goes and he donates money to charity. He's also asking others to make them." Bakura slowly nodded, and watched as Malik replaced the rock in the plant. He glanced at the page again before following it. "Come on. The others will be out soon. We should get that vodka."

Bakura nodded and followed him through the crowd. After a few minutes, when they had made their way through to a quieter area, he murmured, "We should make one and send it to him. We could put it somewhere near the apartment."

Malik hummed. "What about the mountain next time we go there?" He suggested. It would have a nice view. "Or we could do more than one."

Bakura nodded and took Malik's hand. "I think my father had cancer," he mumbled. "I don't know, obviously. But... he was losing his memory when he died, and he couldn't move well. He couldn't breathe. He would have died anyway - he was just... lying in bed. He'd been asleep for two days when they came."

Malik squeezed, and kissed the top of Bakura's head. "We'll do a few," he murmured, "and we'll message to see if we can help." Bakura nodded, and Malik ran a thumb over his phone in his pocket. Maybe it was time to call his siblings.

Bakura was not a heavy sleeper. He had never picked up the habit, even when he came back to a world of pillows and duvets and locks on doors. So he woke relatively quickly when Malik began to shift in the bed.

He pushed himself up on his forearms and turned to look at his partner. Malik was blurry, and then Bakura remembered to shove on his glasses. The other didn't move a lot in his sleep, so once Bakura saw the frown marring his face, he touched Malik's arm. "Mal?" He whispered. "Mal, wake up." Malik whined slightly and curled into a tighter ball. "Shit, Malik, it's just a dream." Bakura began tapping Malik's arm.

After a moment, Malik's eyes flashed open and fixed on Bakura, wide and terrified. He whined again and squeezed them shut.

Bakura wound his arms around Malik. "It's okay," he whispered. "It was just a dream. It's okay."

Malik shook his head but it took him a minute to be able to vocalise anything. "The- the-" His voice didn't even work well for another little while. Bakura wasn't entirely sure that Malik recognised him.

He hadn't managed to get an explanation from him by the time something changed. He had suspected beforehand - Malik only had four different recurring nightmares - but he was certain when Nasir raised his head, looking confused and tired.

"What happened?"

"He dreamt about the initiation," Nasir mumbled, "and didn't want to deal with it."

Bakura sighed and released Nasir. "Couldn't. He couldn't deal with it."

"Maybe." Nasir looked away again and it took Bakura most of his control to pull him close again. "What are you doing?"

"What Google said to do."

Try to treat the alter the same as you would the host, the website had read. It might make them feel more comfortable around you. From the expression on Nasir's face, it hadn't worked.

"I'm not Malik."

"I know." Bakura gave him a squeeze. "I don't think you are."

Nasir squirmed slightly. "Then why are you treating me like him?"

"I'm not." Okay, so that website was bullshit. "I just thought you might like a hug."

"I-" Nasir grimaced and shifted onto his side. "I guess I don't mind it."

He glanced around the room. They had spent the night at Malik's. Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Have you been here before?"

Nasir shook his head. "I don't think so," he mumbled. "I think I know it but I've never been fronting when we were here."

Bakura nodded. "Do you know why you're out now?"

Nasir scowled. "I already told you. Because Malik's a fucking bitch who can't deal with his own fucking emotions." He twisted onto his other side so his back was to Bakura. "He shoves me out when he gets scared and then complains about it."

Bakura couldn't resist it. "I think he was more complaining about you killing people." He saw Nasir move again. Fuck, he was meant to be nice. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise," Nasir scoffed. "I like it more when you're like that. I don't like you very much and I know you don't like me, so don't act like it." He sat up. "I do like your host though. Where is he?"

"Piss drunk and probably lamenting over Yugi not liking him." Bakura rolled his eyes. "Pride was today."

"Oh." Nasir blinked. "That explains it."

"The nightmare?"

Nasir nodded. "Most of the tombs weren't bad about gay people but it wasn't a thing of love - it was procreation. Everyone needed to have at least one kid, regardless of who they married." Nasir's gaze ran around the room and landed on the gay pride flag draped over the chair. Bakura had bought it for Malik from a stand near the cinema. "But his father followed another branch of the religion - the one that condemned Set."

Bakura had come across a good few of those in his time. They weren't the most popular of groups, but they were loud, and theirs was one of the few surviving views, and was taken as the idea of the pantheon as a whole rather than that of part of it.

"And Malik's gay as shit. He even sounds fucking gay." Nasir shook his head. "He didn't do anything, but his father thought he was getting too friendly with one of the boys coming up to the initiation. That's what the wings were for."

"The wings weren't part of it?" Bakura whispered.

"They didn't have to be." Nasir shook his head. "But he wanted to make it more. He wanted to punish him for something he didn't even do." Nasir's nails dug into the sheets.

Bakura had to reach over and pry them loose. "I don't think the hotel will like it if you rip their sheets."

"Serves them right," Nasir muttered. "And Malik. He has too much money."

"On that we can agree." Bakura glanced around the room. He began to notice how lavish it was again - it wasn't that he never noticed, but he had almost tuned it out. Now he noticed the heavy velvet curtains, the twelve hundred thread count duvet, the elaborate painting hung above the King-sized bed. "But don't rip the sheets."

Nasir scoffed. He reached a hand back and ghosted it over the top of his spine. "It's the only thing I wanted gone," he muttered. "Just the wings. But they're still fucking there."

"I did my best with them," Bakura mumbled, "but they're too deep and old."

"I know." Nasir kicked the duvet away. "I want to watch something."

Bakura's eyebrows arched. Just like that? "So you're done?" Nasir glanced at him. "You were talking so much shit there I just assumed you wanted to rant."

"No." Nasir stood up. "I just want to watch something and enjoy the body while I've got it, honestly." He made his way towards the couch in the next room.

Bakura glanced at the clock and followed him. Fucking half eight. If Nasir was going to insist on getting up at such an ungodly hour, Bakura was going to annoy him. "So pride stuff triggers Malik?"

"Probably." Nasir shrugged. "Or something else did and that added to it. I don't fucking know." He flopped onto the couch and grabbed the remote. He flicked through a few channels before settling on a cartoon Bakura didn't know the name of.

"How don't you know?" Bakura sat on the arm of the couch beside Nasir. "I thought alters could talk to each other."

"Some can." Nasir shrugged again, just one shoulder this time. "I met someone called Sasha online once who could talk to one alter but not the host. He only picked the name Sasha to piss off the host, and the host didn't even know he was fucking there."

"So alters pick their own names?"

"Some do."

"Did you?" Nasir shrugged again, and Bakura rubbed his forehead. "Okay so you can't talk to anyone."

"I didn't say that." Nasir didn't even look at him. "I could when I had the Rod."

"Okay. Well we're not trying that." Bakura folded his arms and leaned back against the couch cushion. It was an odd angle, but he was tired, and his body was still sore from pride. "Who could you talk to?"

"Amir and Kek." Nasir paused. "And Namu."

"So Namu wasn't just made up? And Kek isn't just Malik's Ka?"

"No, Kek isn't just his fucking ka. And where do you think he got the name Namu?" Nasir glanced at Bakura. "I don't think Malik was expecting to actually meet the Pharaoh at Battle City, so he created Namu to deal with that."

That explained the aversion to even looking at Atem. Not that there was any extra excuse needed. Bakura slowly nodded. "And Kek and Amir? What are they for?"

"I don't know their triggers." Nasir sighed and leaned his head back. "I only talked to them a little, and Kek just kept making a bunch of sex jokes. You know what he made us say once? Daddy. In the middle of a fucking meeting with ghouls, he made us say daddy. He's an asshole."

Bakura tried not to laugh. "Come on, that's pretty funny."

"No. Not in a meeting." Nasir paused. "It was funny afterwards though. Malik was convinced he was possessed. He was freaking out about cleansing the place."

"And you didn't think to correct him?"

"I couldn't talk to him." Nasir finally glanced over at Bakura. "None of us could. None of the alters I know of anyway."

"Oh." Bakura frowned. "So you've never actually talked to him?"

"That's what I said." Nasir looked at the screen again. "Now are you going to let me watch this or not?"

Bakura fell silent for a minute, struggling to focus a little with the too-loud voices and over-dramatic sound effects as background noise. "What if you could?" Nasir looked up. "Talk to him?"

After a moment, Nasir shook his head. "I couldn't even talk to him with the Rod. How am I meant to do it now?"

Bakura grinned. "You could write him a letter." Nasir rolled his eyes. "No, hear me out. I know this sounds like the kind of shit my host would say, but it might help both of you. Even if it's just you screaming at him about getting his shit together, it might make you feel better because you're letting it out, and he might be less scared about all of this." Nasir frowned and Bakura paused. "Don't just scream at him to get his shit together though. He's working on it."

"I..." Nasir's frown deepened. "You think he'd read it?"

"I'll make sure he does." Bakura nodded. "I could even get a nice notebook from Ryou for you to write it in if you want? That way, he can respond and any other alters that come out can write something." Ryou had too many anyway. Surely he wouldn't miss one.

Nasir glanced at the television. "Can we hang out with Ryou for a bit if we go to get the notebook?" He mumbled. "I like him. He likes the same horror films as me."

Bakura grimaced. "As long as you don't drag me into that discussion, then yes. We can go and see him once you shower." He had the day off, and maybe a visit would drag him out of his post-pride-and-Yugi depressive spiral.

"Great." Nasir stood up. "Will you show me how to turn it on?"

"The shower?" Bakura quirked an eyebrow. When Nasir nodded, he groaned, but heaved himself off the couch. "Alright, come on. But you'd better pay attention for next time, because I'm only showing you once."

So @helensrocks is a real instagram account that does do exactly what is said in the story. Please take a look at it and try to spread it if you can. Please review, and I'll see you nerds next week.