Chapter Text
When Adrien was five, he found where his mother kept her makeup.
He sat there, brushes and palettes sprawled across the floor around him, painting colors onto his face. His hands vibrant with eyeshadow and blush. He was reaching for the eyeliner to doodle shapes across his skin when the door slammed open.
There stood his father, taking in the scene in front of him and growing increasingly furious. He strode into the room and grabbed Adrien by his collar, dragging him away from the bright colors and fun textures.
That was the first time Adrien got really, truly yelled at, and he didn't even understand why. His father spoke of honor and the responsibility of an Agreste, but his mother wore makeup and she was an Agreste, wasn't she? She looked so pretty with the soft colors and sharp lines painted onto her face, why couldn't Adrien have that for himself?
Adrien often admired his mother, with her makeup and her soft hair and her stylish dresses. He always found his clothes so boring, all rectangles and straight lines.
As Adrien got older, he found himself thinking less and less about makeup and soft hair and stylish dresses. It was simply easier to keep it all out of his mind. He didn't think much about his clothes, or his appearance. They were always choices made for him. But that didn't make the deep, longing feeling in his chest disappear.
When Adrien met Marinette, that was the first time in a long time that he found himself thinking about fashion again. Of course he thought about it, it was his job, but he rarely truly considered what fashion could be. What it meant.
Marinette's designs were striking. Beautiful, that's the word Adrien would use. The men's fashion was interesting, of course, but the women's fashion Marinette designed was gorgeous. Adrien often found himself wishing he could wear those designs for himself. Whenever he did, though, it brought a deep sense of fear and sadness he didn't quite understand.
She was showing him one of her concepts now, a mid-length dress with sleek, solid edges. She has fabric swatches pinned to her dress form, different textures and weights in black and white and yellow and purple. Adrien rubs the swatches between his fingers, drawn to one especially soft one.
"So," Marinette starts, flustered. "I was actually inspired by your sense of fashion! So, um, I wanted to use colors that you usually wear and that modern straight-edges sort of look."
"Oh, I don't actually choose my own clothes," Adrien says. "My father and his company picks out what I wear."
"Oh," Marinette wilts. "Well, um..."
She looks up at the dress form, then back down to her sketches, obviously mentally scrapping the whole thing.
Adrien flounders. "But it looks really good! Seriously, I would wear it if I could."
"Oh, thank you," Marinette says, before fully processing what he said. "Wait, why couldn't you? It's in your size."
"Well, it's. Um. A dress."
"Is there something wrong with it?"
"No, it's beautiful! It's just..." Adrien wavers. "I'm... a boy."
"Oh. Is that it?" Marinette puts her hands on her hips. "Boys can wear dresses."
"They... can?"
"Sure. What's the problem?"
"Well, it's..." Adrien hesitates. He tries to think of an argument, but comes up empty. All he has is a weird, miserable feeling in his stomach.
"If it's not your style, that's fine! I can always draw up something new. I want to! Tell me what kind of fashion you like!" Marinette shouts, suddenly passionate.
"Okay!" Adrien assents. "But honestly, I've... never thought about my taste in fashion. My clothes have always been picked out for me."
Marinette gets very saddened, frowning with her shoulders drooping, before suddenly brightening again. "Well! Then we'll just have to discover it!"
She puts her sketchbook down, collecting her tablet and swiping through, opening a collage-making app and spinning it around for Adrien to see. Swiping through ideas, she says, "We can look through all the fashion inspiration I have saved and see if there's anything you like! We'll make a collage of all the ones you like the most, and make a dress based off of that."
They sit together, shoulder-to-shoulder, selecting different images and slowly building a collection.
Adrien's gaze lingers on a mid-length half circle skirt. Marinette wordlessly adds it to the collage. The weird miserable feeling returns.
The collage turns out to be very contrasted. Sleek techwear and rugged alt fashion sits next to fluffy, knitted cardigans. A good angle of Chat Noir's suit is taken from the Ladyblog.
"Great!" Marinette claps her hands together when they're done. "I'll start sketching some new designs! Thanks so much for this," she smiles.
Adrien finds it odd that she's thanking him, instead of the other way around, but doesn't say anything. He waves good bye to both her and her parents on his way out, and leaves with that miserable feeling sinking deeper into his stomach.
Chapter Text
Ladybug and Chat Noir wave to the crowd, akuma defeated and victim calmed. It was honestly a simpler akuma than they tend to be, but Ladybug's plan was still characteristically complex. The akuma purified, Miracle Cure cast, everyone was lingering before Paris's superheroes had to leave to recharge.
"Ladybug!" Someone shouts from the crowd. "Say trans rights!"
"Trans rights!" Ladybug responses gleefully.
Chat Noir smiles, skillfully practiced in 'I don't know what that means but I'm going to pretend I do'.
Later, when Chat Noir and Ladybug are alone for patrol that night, Chat Noir speaks up.
"I have a question that might be dumb," He admits.
"Most of your questions are," Ladybug teases.
"M'lady! My questions are gentlemanly and shrewd."
"Sure. What's your question?"
"What, um. What does 'trans rights' mean?"
"Oh!" Ladybug starts, surprised. "Like, that transgender people deserve rights?"
"Right. Follow-up question: what does 'transgender' mean?"
Ladybug's face flashes with something Chat Noir doesn't quite know how to read. Trepidation, maybe?
"'Transgender' just means someone who doesn't identify with the gender they were assigned at birth," Ladybug explains. "So, like, usually when someone is born the doctor goes "it's a boy!" or whatever, and then that baby grows up being treated like a boy. But some people decide, hey, that's not how I feel. So that kid might decide they like being a girl better. Or something else entirely!"
Ladybug pulls out her bugphone and taps something into it, pulling up an image that she fullscreens. "This is their pride flag," she says, turning the screen to show it to Chat Noir.
He takes the bugphone into his own hands, and stares down at the screen. That deep, weird, miserable feeling that had been coalescing his entire life turns upwards and faces the sun.
"You can do that?" Chat Noir says, quietly. Almost reverently.
He must have some emotion displaying on his face, because Ladybug cups his hands in her own. "Yes, minou. Anyone can. At any time."
Chat Noir's mind whirls, trying to find purchase in the new reality he finds himself in. Twin emotions of "that can't be right" and "this is it" nestle up beneath his rib cage, clawing at each other, fighting for death. Or for something more important than that.
Chat Noir can't be certain that... this is it. That he's this. That the answer to something he's felt his entire life is suddenly right in front of him.
But he's absolutely sure that this is something that his father wouldn't allow.
Ladybug stays quiet, letting Chat Noir process his emotions in his own time. When he collects himself, he's suddenly aware that his eyes are watering. He blinks rapidly, and gently closes the bugphone, handing it back to Ladybug.
He feels distantly like he should say thank you, or maybe anything at all, but he's not entirely certain he can speak right now. So he says nothing.
Ladybug places a comforting hand on his shoulder, and pulls him into a friendly side hug. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Minou?"
Chat Noir nods numbly. He reminds himself that he needs to be present, that they're about to go on patrol, and clenches his hands tightly, pressing his claws into his palms.
"Yes," he says. "I know. Thank you, m'lady."
Ladybug smiles gently, and swings off in their standard scouting order. Chat Noir follows after.
Notes:
hiiiii ^-^ shorter chapter this time but they only get longer after this. i'm writing the final chapter as we speak and i'll be posting new chapters every day!
Chapter Text
Adrien wakes up with a start the next morning, eyes heavy with sleep. He'd stayed up late that night looking up girl names while Plagg napped.
He'd had the distinct sense that he was doing something wrong, that he should stop and forget about it all, but he'd been completely unable to stop himself. Minutes turned into hours turned into falling asleep at his computer way too close to when his alarm was set.
He groans and rubs his eyes hard enough to see dancing lights. He checks his phone and startles, finally seeing the time. He's late to the first fitting for Marinette's new dress.
He gets dressed as quickly as he can, responding to Marinette's many texts as he does. finally, he wakes Plagg, depositing him into his shirt pocket and dashing out the door.
When he gets to Tom and Sabine's bakery, he has rushed, polite conversation with Marinette's parents before making his way up the ladder to her room. The trapdoor is already open, so he can't knock. He peaks his head in to see Marinette pacing, phone in her hand.
"Hi, Marinette," Adrien says, trying to be as unstartling as possible.
"AH!" Marinette startles. "Oh! Adrien! You're here! Okay, so I made the first mock-up but I got so excited I already made some changes I hope that's okay, it SHOULD fit you i know I have to have measured you a million times by now but ANYWAYS it's not the finished product and it's only made out of muslin so it doesn't look that pretty but that's okay it's a mock-up!"
Adrien smiles. He loves how Marinette talks sometimes; the way her thought processes figure themselves out while she's saying them.
"That's fine," Adrien says. "Can I see it?"
"Yes! That's what we're here for!" Marinette pulls her dress form over for Adrien to see the outfit.
It looks so simple in solid white muslin, but Adrien finds his gaze locked to it anyway. The dress itself is shorter than he expected to be; the top is form-fitting with no sleeves, showing off the shoulders, with a pleated skirt. Half-bunched onto the neck of the dress form is a solid grey sweater Marinette seems to have made specifically for Adrien. On her desk sits a thick, chunky belt next to a wallet chain.
"So the accessories are finished, technically, but we should still make sure they're the right length and stuff," Marinette shuffles anxiously. "But the dress itself is a work in progress. The sweater should fit, but I made it a little oversized. I hope that's okay."
Adrien listens absently, eyes focused on the dress form. This is something that was created specifically for him, with his interests in mind, with so much thought put into it. Unwillingly, his eyes start to burn.
Marinette's facing the other direction, waving her arms as she continues talking. "And we haven't even talked about the fabric yet! I ordered a couple yards of that cotton you kept feeling the other day but if you had something else in mind that's totally okay, just let me know, I just thought I'd get a head start on—" she finally turns around and sees the tears in Adrien's eyes. "Oh no! Adrien! You don't like it? That's okay! Um, we'll just start over! Scrap the whole thing!"
She moves for the dress form, but before she can do anything Adrien grabs her wrist, shouting, "no!"
Marinette looks up at him, shocked. He's not sure she's ever heard him raise his voice. He can't really remember the last time he did.
"I mean," he wipes his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout. I really like it, Marinette." He looks back up at her. "This might be the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
Marinette gawks at him. He realizes he's still holding on to her wrist and quickly releases it.
She holds her wrist where his hand was, gently, staring down at it in thought. "For what it's worth," she says. "I'd do this for you every day of my life, if I could."
Adrien smiles, tears dripping out of his eyes. He wipes them away as fast as he can— his father always said he was too sensitive— but he knows Marinette can see it happening regardless.
She hesitates for a moment, before her resolve steels and she pulls him into a big hug. Adrien doesn't know how long they stay like that. At some point, one of them starts rocking side-to-side.
Finally, he sniffles one last time and backs out of the hug. "We should really get to it."
"Yes!" Marinette says, flustered. "The dress!"
She sets up her folding screen so Adrien can change, hovering on the other side. He puts the dress on, marveling at how perfectly it fits, as if it were molded for his body. He smooths the skirt with his hands, hesitating to step out from behind the divider.
"Have you changed?" Marinette asks. "I want to see you. the dress! I mean, I want to see the dress!"
Adrien shuffles out from behind the folding screen. He tries to channel his modeling training, but he feels uncharacteristically nervous. So he fidgets with the hem of the skirt instead.
"How does it look?" he asks, with a slanted, nervous smile.
Marinette's face is beet red. "G— uh, good! Really good! I mean, the dress is! I mean, not to toot my own horn. No, really, actually, there are some things wrong." Marinette steps in close into Adrien's personal space, inspecting the garment. "I think the skirt needs another inch or so of length. and the armscyes are a weird shape, I tried to make the silhouette interesting but I think I just made it odd. Y'know?" She looks up at Adrien's face and gapes at him, seemingly realizing just how close they are. Suddenly (and quickly!) she backs up far too much, bonking her head against the far wall.
Adrien rushes over to her. "Are you okay?"
"Yes!" she says too loudly. "I'm fine! Are you okay?"
"I'm... fine?" Adrien tilts his head, confused.
"Great! So we're both fine. I mean, we're both okay! I mean, obviously you're fine, but—" she suddenly puts her face into both of her hands. "I'm okay. Um, do you wanna see yourself in a mirror?"
Twin emotions roar underneath Adrien's ribcage. Yes please now tries to bubble out of his throat and is stopped by no never actually can you kill me please? He shifts his weight nervously, unsure of what to say. But Marinette's looking up at him expectantly, so he forces himself to nod.
Marinette directs him to a full-length mirror next to her chaise lounge, covering his eyes with her hands. She releases him, and Adrien sees himself for the first time.
He's not sure what he's expecting to think, but his brain is divided into two halves. The first half says, this is what you look like? do you think you'll ever be a real girl?
The second half says, you look beautiful. You look perfect. You look better than you ever have in men's clothing. You should dress like this forever.
"What do you think?" Marinette prompts gently.
Adrien's eyes burn again. He can't speak, so he simply nods fervently, hoping Marinette understands what he means.
She claps her hands together gleefully, obviously delighted that he likes it too. "I'll get started on the final version right away!"
Adrien nods again, unable to tear his gaze away from the vision of herself in the mirror.
Notes:
getting longer now! this fic is OFFICIALLY fully written and only needs to be edited! thanks for reading so far <3
Chapter Text
Chat Noir sits on the edge of the Eiffel Tower, looking out at the skyline, kicking his feet. Marinette's dress fitting went well, he supposes. For her, at least. It's sent him into a spiral.
He'd spent so long staring at himself in the mirror that Marinette had offered to let him bring the mock-up home. He'd declined, of course— there's no way his father would approve.
He's spent a long time thinking about how he feels, which he can't recall ever doing before. How he feels has never mattered. He's not even sure it matters now.
But Ladybug had said that it's whatever gender you feel like that matters, hadn't she? Can that be true for Adrien? Is he allowed to make a decision based on his emotions?
He's used to having everything planned for him, every meal, every outfit, even every battle— Ladybug is the strategist. Is this something he can choose for himself? Is he allowed?
He can hear Plagg's voice in his head, telling him to stop worrying. That he's the holder of the black cat. That he can do whatever he wants. But as freeing as that notion is, it's also terrifying. The first decision he ever made for himself was going to school, and that had turned out well, but... what if his luck breaks?
Chat Noir's not known for his luck.
He sighs, burying his face in his arms. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do.
"Everything alright, kitty cat?" Ladybug appears behind him, yoyo zipping from her swing.
"M'lady!" Chat Noir exclaims, startled. "I was just..." he looks out over the city again, at all the people milling about and running errands. "... thinking."
"Something you want to talk about?" Ladybug sits in her spot next to him.
He tries to speak, but the words get stuck in his throat.
Ladybug must notice something's wrong, because she sidles closer and buries her hand in his hair, scratching just below his leather ears.
He purrs, surprised. Relaxing into her touch, he leans into her, hard. She doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she pets him harder.
How long they sit like that, Chat Noir doesn't know. He loses track of time in the bliss he feels of his Lady giving him the affection he's so starved for.
Finally, Ladybug removes her hand from his hair and places it on his shoulder, holding him in a side-hug. "Feeling better?" she asks.
"... Yes," Chat Noir says.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know... if I can. It's... complicated."
"Well, i'll be here the whole time. If you change your mind."
Ladybug waits with him, hand on his shoulder, pulling him into her side. She looks out over the city, at the skyline, where the setting sun makes its descent.
Chat Noir speaks up. "I've been feeling... weird, recently. Weird my whole life, I guess. I always kind of tuned it out as background noise, but..."
Ladybug watches him, waiting gently for him to continue.
"I... have a friend. Who made me an outfit that's... meant for girls. And she had me try it on, and when I looked in the mirror, I felt..."
"Good?" Ladybug supplies.
"Complicated," Chat Noir corrects. "I felt like I was doing something wrong, like I was going to get in trouble. Or like... I was trying to lie and nobody believed me." He looks away. "But mostly I felt like it was something I needed to keep wearing, to keep doing, like it was something I waited my whole life for."
"Maybe it was," Ladybug says gently.
"Maybe," Chat Noir says miserably.
"Chaton," Ladybug takes Chat Noir's face in her hands, turning it so he's looking at her. "Nobody can decide for you what you are. How you feel. But if you feel like this is something worth exploring... I think you should explore it."
"Is it? Worth exploring?" Chat Noir tries to look away again, but he's trapped by Ladybug's hands. "It's not like I'd be able to actually change anything. My father..."
Ladybugs face flashes with anger as he trails off. For a moment, he's worried it's directed at him, but it's quickly replaced with the same gentleness that was there before. "You could. As Chat Noir. Who could stop you?"
When Chat Noir doesn't respond, she continues. "And! You don't have to tell everybody. You can just tell people you trust. Your father never has to know," she finishes gently.
"Who would I even tell...?"
"What about your friend who made you that outfit? Can you trust her with a secret?"
"It's not just a secret, it's..." something bigger. He doesn't know what, but something more important than anything he has words for. Something that rivals his secret identity.
As if sensing his thoughts, Ladybug asks, "Would you trust her to know you're Chat Noir? I mean, don't tell her. Obviously. But... hypothetically. Would she make a good ally?"
Chat Noir thinks about Marinette, about her crazy plans and how exceptionally creative she is. How, if he had to tell someone, it would be between her and Nino (and he doesn't know about Marinette, but Nino is awful at keeping secrets).
"... Yes," he whispers. "She would."
"I can't make your decision for you. But I think, if this is something you're noticing, if you're hurting... that you have someone who would accept you."
Chat Noir leans fully into Ladybug's hands, purring when she reaches up to scratch behind his ears again.
Chat Noir isn't fully sure of what he's doing, of what he's feeling, but... he knows he does trust Marinette. She may be loud, and impulsive, and sometimes stubborn, but... she's also intensely kind and accepting.
And... maybe he needs someone stubborn on his side. Someone who will fight for him if it comes to that. Someone who he knows would stand up to his father.
All of his friends would.
Maybe this isn't such a bad thing after all.
Notes:
almost there! final chapter will be posted tomorrow. thanks so much for reading so far! and also if you see any typos pkease tell me i dont have a beta for this fic (because i got embarrassed 3)
Chapter Text
Adrien shifts her weight, uncharacteristically nervous, while Marinette resizes her belt. She cuts the extra length of cord off, and burns the fraying edges sealed.
"All done!" She holds it up for Adrien to see and stands up, pulling it around her waist. It fits perfectly.
"Thank you, Marinette," Adrien says sincerely. "I can't put into words..."
"It's just a belt," she smiles.
"No, I mean, for all of this. This is... I know I said it before, but this is really the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
"Well," Marinette puts her hands on her hips. "Maybe people should be doing nice things for you more often."
Adrien doesn't know what to say to that, so she doesn't say anything.
She's been testing that, recently. Adrien has. Referring to herself as 'she'. It's made her feel... complicated, and she can only really do it in her head, not to anybody else, not least because she hasn't told anybody else— but Marinette's right in front of her and she trusts Marinette, not more than she trusts Ladybug but she does trust her, and she's already spoken to Ladybug and she told her to tell Marinette. And now she's at Marinette's, and they can talk, and she'll have a weight off her chest.
If she could actually get the words out.
She stands there, fiddling with the hem of her dress— the hem of the dress Marinette made for her, because she's the nicest person in the world second only to Ladybug, and she would absolutely understand if she told her what's going on in her head but she can't get herself to speak.
This happens sometimes, where Adrien gets nervous or scared and the words in her throat get trapped there. Ladybug doesn't know about it, because she doesn't often feel nervous or scared around her— not even during battle— and it's not like she's hiding it from her, but she finds herself thinking that maybe she should tell her anyways. Just in case.
Adrien shakes her head, trying to cast her lady from her thoughts, and redirects her attention to Marinette. She's running her fingers along the hem of Adrien's dress, looking for mistakes.
Adrien clears her throat, not trying to get Marinette's attention as much as she's trying to clear the thickness she feels when she tries to speak. "How do you feel... about the name Mallory?"
"Mallory?" Marinette asks. "For who?"
"For... me," Adrien says, voice getting quieter.
"For you? You want to change your name?"
"I've been thinking about it," Adrien says, even quieter. "I looked at... a lot of girl names. And I liked Mallory."
"OH!" Marinette falls backwards. "Oh! Adr— Mallory! That's— That's great! That's... awesome! Mallory! I love it! Lot of, um, nickname material." She stands up. "Do you... want to talk about why you want to change your name?"
Mallory's quiet for a moment, unsure, and Marinette barrels forward. "I mean, you don't have to tell me! Or I could guess! We could make a game out of it! Or, um, maybe not, would that be insensitive? Nevermind, forget I said anything. What I mean is! You don't have to tell me unless you want to."
"I want to," Mallory says. "You're, um. The first person I've told. Other than a... friend of mine, who said I should tell you. And, I mean, I didn't explicitly say specifically what's going on to her... but I think she probably could've guessed. Correctly." She clears her throat. "Um. I've been trying to... think of myself more... like a girl, I guess? Which is hard, in that it's unfamiliar, and kind of uncomfortable, but also... kind of really freeing? But, um, anyways, that friend of mine explained to me what... 'transgender' meant, and I guess since then I've just sort of felt..."
Marinette waits for Mallory to continue, but she doesn't. She just goes back to playing with the hem of her dress.
Marinette isn't used to seeing Adr— to seeing Mallory act like this. So nervous and guarded and cautious. She's used to seeing him— her act so warm and open. She can't even really recall the last time she'd honestly talked about how she felt.
On the one hand, Marinette feels honored that she trusts her with this. That she'd come to her first (well, second) means so much to Marinette.
On the other hand, Marinette is so certain that she's going to screw this up somehow. She has trans friends already, but she's never been the first one any of them told. And Mallory is clearly nervous, something that Marinette doesn't know how to handle.
On the third hand, though, she'd already been prepared for someone to come out to her soon— not Mallory, but she can adapt! Her kitty didn't say in so many words that they were trans, but she wouldn't be surprised if they had a whole new look the next time she saw them.
"Thank you," Marinette says. "For trusting me with this. I think it's really awesome that you figured it out. Your friend sounds really special."
Marinette feels a pang of jealousy, and tries to breathe through it. She can hear Alya in her mind, talking her through her thoughts; Mallory's not going to stop talking to her just because he has another friend, who happened to help her discover she's trans.
She looks back up and smiles at Mallory. "Who else are you planning on telling?"
Mallory winces slightly at the assumption that she's going to be telling anyone else anything, but says, "Um, I don't know. I want to tell Nino, but I'm worried about... my father finding out."
Marinette sucks in a breath, suddenly realizing the threat. Marinette doesn't know Mallory's father that well, but from what she's seen, he's not... the nicest. Nino's amazing, but he's not the best at keeping a secret.
Marinette nods. "You don't have to tell anyone you don't want to. And don't worry! I won't tell anyone!"
Mallory hesitates for a moment, before scooping Marinette up in a big hug. Squeezing tightly, she says, "thank you, Marinette."
Marinette freezes, flushing. "Oh! Um! No problem! Not a problem at all. I'm really good at keeping secrets! I mean— not that I have any secrets, ha, why would I have any secrets? Haha!"
They stand there for a moment before Marinette realizes she should hug her back. Slowly, she forces herself to untense her muscles and wrap her arms around Mallory. She leans into the touch, and Mallory's familiar scent envelopes her.
She closes her eyes, letting herself be held by Mallory. Someone she knew and someone she's just meeting at the same time. Marinette's constantly discovering new sides to Mallory to fall in love with all over again.
"I really should get going," Mallory says. "My father doesn't technically know I'm here."
"Our little secret," Marinette mutters, face pink.
Mallory pulls away, beaming at her, and hugs her tightly once more before leaving out the trapdoor.
"Tikki," Marinette says, once she's sure Mallory's out of earshot. "Do I like girls?"
Notes:
and that's it! hope you enjoyed! if you did leave a comment! thanks for reading!! <33
shout out also to my he/him friend mallory who i asked for permission to use his name for a miraculous ladybug fic. he thought it was funny
demipancake on Chapter 1 Tue 22 Jul 2025 03:32PM UTC
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Keyseeker on Chapter 1 Tue 22 Jul 2025 04:51PM UTC
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wing_feathers on Chapter 1 Thu 24 Jul 2025 02:20PM UTC
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Keyseeker on Chapter 2 Wed 23 Jul 2025 09:38PM UTC
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wing_feathers on Chapter 2 Wed 23 Jul 2025 09:45PM UTC
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Keyseeker on Chapter 3 Thu 24 Jul 2025 05:17PM UTC
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wing_feathers on Chapter 3 Thu 24 Jul 2025 06:57PM UTC
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Keyseeker on Chapter 4 Fri 25 Jul 2025 05:12PM UTC
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Keyseeker on Chapter 5 Sat 26 Jul 2025 06:44PM UTC
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wing_feathers on Chapter 5 Sat 26 Jul 2025 11:03PM UTC
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Keyseeker on Chapter 5 Sat 26 Jul 2025 11:23PM UTC
Last Edited Sat 26 Jul 2025 11:24PM UTC
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wing_feathers on Chapter 5 Sun 27 Jul 2025 12:43PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 27 Jul 2025 12:56PM UTC
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JamJamJubilee on Chapter 5 Tue 29 Jul 2025 12:42AM UTC
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