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Who Suffered The Most In Anime

The Heavenly Miss Xiulan (Who Is Most Definitely Not a Boy)

In the 3,476th year of the Celestial Calendar, the Heavenly Emperor—whose divinity was rivaled only by his boredom—rewrote the Immortal Code of Gender Assignments during a particularly uneventful spring. According to Clause 89, Subsection Moonlight, Paragraph Absolutely-Not-Optional, any being born with an overwhelmingly high-yin spiritual constitution could only, by universal decree, be classified as female. It was simple. Efficient. Divine. Except… someone made a mistake. A mortal child was born deep within the darkest stretch of the Eternal Spirit Forest, surrounded by mist, mystery, and mushrooms that sang lullabies. He was bright-eyed, soft-voiced, high-yin… and very, very male. The thunder cracked the day he laughed. A white wolf howled. A snake offered him venom like warm milk. The trees whispered ancient songs. And the heavens? Well, they began preparing lightning bolts on standby—just in case someone down there got too clever and said something like: “Wait… is that a boy?” Boom. Thus began the most unusual cultivation tale in ten thousand realms. A tale of a child raised by beasts, mistaken for a goddess, blessed with yin that could stop hearts, and cursed with thunder that would smite anyone who dared question the Heavenly Code. This is the story of Xiulan. Or as the forest calls him: “Our beautiful, powerful, emotionally unstable daughter.” Or as heaven calls him: “ERROR 404: Gender Not Found.”
a_sweet_present · 12.3K Views

Turning: Those who shine in the dark

"She was never meant to be seen. He was never meant to exist." In the quiet town of Gloria, Aidan lives in hiding—his blood potent, his identity dangerous. Bound by a secret past and the weight of a curse, he crafts potions for survival and watches over his younger twin, Adeena. When an invitation arrives for a royal ball in the capital, Aidan makes a choice that will haunt him: he lets her go. Dressed in borrowed silk and escorted by a paid chaperone, Adeena enters a world of chandeliers, masks, and veiled intentions. Aidan stays behind... at first. But when his uncle warns him of a shadow moving within the palace—one that knows what he is—Aidan infiltrates the event, unseen, cloaked in secrecy. The ball ends in fire. The girl vanishes. Aidan’s blood can heal—but not rewind time.Adeena smiled as the violins swelled. Draped in sapphire blue, her hair pinned with borrowed pearls, she looked older than her years—almost noble. No one in that ballroom knew she’d come from a forgotten village. No one knew her chaperone was paid. No one suspected the boy who sent her here was watching from above. Aidan stood among the shadows of the chandelier beams, breath held tight, gaze fixed only on her. He was never meant to be seen—not here, where his father’s face might be recognized in his own. Eldric gave the signal. Everything’s fine. But it wasn’t. A woman in red silk approached Adeena. She smiled too much. She moved too slowly. And when she touched Adeena’s hand—just a brush—Aidan flinched. That’s not Dahlia, he thought. And it’s not Mary. The chandeliers exploded. The glass rained like cursed snow. By the time Aidan reached the ballroom floor, Adeena was gone. Turning is a gothic fantasy of stolen identities, cursed bloodlines, and a brother’s descent into a world that was never meant to remember him. For readers of Heaven Official’s Blessing, Who Made Me a Princess, and The Abandoned Empress.
LYdiaWine_House · 9.5K Views

Suffering of the Starved

Once, all he desired was to be acknowledged by his village— To hear his name spoken with pride, not pity. To be praised by his family for more than being quiet and obedient. To be distinguished amongst his siblings, to stand apart in a way that mattered. To be seen by his parents, truly seen—not as an obligation, but as a son worthy of love. Karon was a boy of small ambitions and deep wounds. He did not dream of thrones or glory, only of warmth. Of laughter at a dinner table. Of a father’s nod. Of a mother’s arms. Of belonging. But none of it came. They called his older brother a warrior, his younger sister a prodigy. Karon, they did not call at all. Now, the village is ash. His siblings lie scattered across the broken world, devoured by beasts or conscripted into distant wars. His parents, faces once so distant and unreachable, are now nothing but bones beneath a fallen roof. And Karon—Karon is alone. Not just in body, but in purpose. There is no one left to see him. No dream left to chase. No story left to shape. Once he hungered for recognition. Now, he hungers only for survival. In this world of rotting kingdoms and endless war, where monsters wear both fur and armor, Karon’s name has no meaning. No place. He scavenges ruins, sleeps in hollow trees, and counts the days by the sound of distant screams. His fingers are cracked from clawing through graves for food. His shadow grows long and sharp. His eyes reflect less of the boy he was, and more of the thing he’s becoming. He does not know where he is going. He only knows that something inside him still lives— A hunger deeper than starvation. A hollow that no meat can fill. Not anymore. Perhaps one day, they will speak of Karon again. Not as a son. Not as a brother. But as a creature that walks through the ruins, feeding on what remains of hope.
Palelord · 483 Views
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