#theme: anger

[lucidloving]

Victoria Chang, "Obit" // Halsey, I Would Leave Me If I Could // Townie— Mitski // Agustín Gómez-Arcos, The Carnivorous Lamb (trans. William Rodarmor) // @yesindeeder on Twitter // Key Ballar, "On Fathers"

[araekniarchive]

request for something like anger issues or an anger that has no source and will not fade? like a monster inside of you that makes you angry for no reason

Sophia Lornie, Flatline

@unspokengrief (cropped)

@nipplering (via)

Caryl Churchill, Escaped Alone

Aerial East, It Doesn’t Matter

Halsey, The Lighthouse (Lyric Video)

Ashe Vernon, Buried

Dungeons and Daddies (2019–), Episode 42: Henry’s Father and the Chamber of Secrets

Lidia Yuknavitch, Letter to My Rage

Unknown (via)

Safia Elhillo, Home Is Not a Country

Anne Carson, Plainwater

[honey-makes-mogai]

[No ID - Help Appreciated!]

Koniraver -

[PT: Koniraver -]

A gender related to not knowing how to cope with sadness , feeling like there's a void in your chest whenever you're sad , trying to to convert your sadness into other emotions like anger!

Tagging: @radiomogai

[Banner ID: A pastel yellow banner with a sunflower on either side. In brown text with a white outline, it says "- Please let me know if this has been coined before! -" /End ID.] [DNI transcript: "-DNI- Basic criteria, anti-mogai, proshippers, ableists, aphobes, racists, zoophiles, rpf shippers, fandom discourse, under 13, transid/transx". /End transcript.]

[masterlisthound]

[Image 1 ID: A nine striped flag, its colors going as follows, black, indigo, muted green, a large stripe of mint green, a large stripe dark red, a large stripe of mint green, muted green, indigo, black. In the center of the flag, there is a black rhombus outlined in dark red with muted neon red scribbles inside of it. End ID]

[Image 2 ID: The same flag except the rhombus is just black with a dark red outline. End ID] - Resentsaint: an aldernic subtype that describes having or wanting a body that is an angel of the jealousy you would get after heartbreak. typically at this point youd having features that make you look demonic, almost saddening as you cant have what your ex had/has. originally coined by solardayzs. have been unable to find a reblog, so this will have to do.

[seasunandstar]

You Can Have It

My brother comes home from work and climbs the stairs to our room. I can hear the bed groan and his shoes drop   one by one. You can have it, he says. The moonlight streams in the window   and his unshaven face is whitened like the face of the moon. He will sleep long after noon and waken to find me gone. Thirty years will pass before I remember   that moment when suddenly I knew each man   has one brother who dies when he sleeps   and sleeps when he rises to face this life, and that together they are only one man   sharing a heart that always labors, hands   yellowed and cracked, a mouth that gasps   for breath and asks, Am I gonna make it? All night at the ice plant he had fed the chute its silvery blocks, and then I   stacked cases of orange soda for the children   of Kentucky, one gray boxcar at a time with always two more waiting. We were twenty   for such a short time and always in the wrong clothes, crusted with dirt and sweat. I think now we were never twenty. In 1948 in the city of Detroit, founded by de la Mothe Cadillac for the distant purposes   of Henry Ford, no one wakened or died,   no one walked the streets or stoked a furnace, for there was no such year, and now that year has fallen off all the old newspapers, calendars, doctors’ appointments, bonds,   wedding certificates, drivers licenses. The city slept. The snow turned to ice.   The ice to standing pools or rivers racing in the gutters. Then bright grass rose   between the thousands of cracked squares, and that grass died. I give you back 1948.   I give you all the years from then to the coming one. Give me back the moon   with its frail light falling across a face. Give me back my young brother, hard and furious, with wide shoulders and a curse   for God and burning eyes that look upon   all creation and say, You can have it. -- Philip Levine

[20xbetterthanu]

in my house, i was known as

the strong one, my hands were

a substitute for my fathers, somehow

he was both around and incredibly

absent. So it was my hands, because

my mother’s were weak, my my

brother’s just weren’t big enough yet.

in the world, i was considered physically

meek. i’m not a big person,

i don’t weigh any more than 130 pounds

and i barely stand at 5’5”. no one

sees me as a threat, no one

sees me as competition—

in the world, nobody knows that

my hands substituted for my fathers,

that i was the strong one.

i was the glue that held the

family together, the reasoning and

the advisor. me, who’d never been in love,

who’d never had a child, who’d

never even been out on a date with a

boy i liked. i listened to rants and

broke up fights and defended one

parent against the other. defended

myself against a parent, when

it got to be too much. i didn’t

cry much. i didn’t feel much of anything.

when i got out, and i told my story

to my friends and the rest of my family,

they had a lot to say. a lot of

“i can’t believe that happened” and

“why didn’t you say anything” and

“i would have ran away.” once even

“i would have killed myself”

but what i heard,

more than anything else, was

“you’re so strong.”

i never had a choice

but to be strong.

i don’t know how to exist

without holding myself up.

i’ve been told i need to

“get it all out.” but if i do that

is there anything left of me?

i’m scared that this pain

is what’s holding my bones together.

[maybebi47]

this is...this is so bad

so very bad

[webweavearchives]

“all of this rage in your hands  passed on down from your old man  and now somehow it's my fault”

—zombie! by orla gartland

[stil-lindigo]

seeing clearer

(sequel to another comic of mine, the calamity.)

--

all my other comics

store

[lizardboiii]

｡･:*˚:✧ANGER MANAGEMENT {Possessive!SukunaxFem!Reader}

--------------------------------------------------------------

-----------------------------------------------------------—

✧Summary: Anger management was by no means your strong suit. No amount of lessons or prayers could change that. In fact, it feels like you’ve been doing a lot worse lately with the appearance of a new neighbor in your next door apartment.

✧Chapter summary: Blonds and therapy. Who's to say you can't have both?

✧Warnings: 18+, SFW, vulgar language, slight PTSD, blond man✧

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｡･:*˚:✧⤷Pairing: Ryoumen Sukuna x afab!reader

｡･:*˚:✧⤷Chapters: (i) (ii) (iii) (iv) (v) (vi) (vii)

｡･:*˚:✧⤷w/c: 3.4k

｡･:*˚:✧⤷Tropes: NeighborsAU!, AncestorsAU!

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｡･:*˚:✧⤷Chapter III : IRKED

--------------------------------------------------------------

WACK

You startled awake at the feeling of a foreign object smacking against your face. Snapping up from your position on the couch, you looked around wildly for the source.

“Wakey wakey, (y/n)~” Yuuji smiled down on you as he went to unleash another strike onto your perplexed form.

Recovering quickly, you violently grabbed the pillow before it met its mark and ripped it from his hands, “YUUJI!”

The pinkette only laughed your anger off as you chucked the pillow back at him. A tight knot formed in your stomach as you growled at him. Frowning, you took a deep breath. There was no need to flip out on Yuuji. He was just joking.

Shaking your head you checked your phone for the time, 11:46am.

“SHIT!”

You stumbled off the couch and stuffed your phone into your pocket. The beginnings of an adrenaline rush making you spin past a taken aback Yuuji.

Yuuji stumbled and watched you with confused eyes, “Huh? What’s going on?”

You raced for the door, “No time! See you later, Yuuji!”

Yanking the door open you were quickly stopped by a firm chest. ‘Stopped’ as in slamming into someone's chest face first. You grabbed your nose bridge in pain as you glared at the offender.

Sukuna loomed over you with bored eyes, “Leaving?”

You scowled, “Yes, and it’d be nice if you could move your fat ass already.”

Sukuna smirked, “Of course. But,” a large hand moved up from his pocket.

You flinched when he snatched the base of your neck. His thumb rested on the dip of your collarbone while the rest of his hand sat comfortably behind your neck. Slowly he traced the pad of his thumb across and up the crevasse of your neck before he landed on a spot.

Caressing small circles in your skin with his thumb, Sukuna’s stare bore into your neck, “You sure you don’t wanna cover this up first?”

Your brows tightly knitted together as you slapped Sukuna’s hand away in disgust. His smug smirk instantly reminded you of the brief conversation you held with him last night.

His rough voice asking you to stay.

Skillful wandering hands. 

A sharp yet sensual bite to your sensitive neck.

You shot a hand up to your neck to cover the rediscovered bruise. Sukuna’s eyes shone bright at your flustered expression.

“Of course,” He picked up a strand of your hair and twirled it, “I wouldn't mind if you're trying to show it off.”

Snarling, you gripped your neck harder, “Get your hands off me.”

You grunted when he suddenly tugged on your hair, “You weren’t complaining last night, rat.”

In an instant you swiped at him, just barely grazing his skin, “I’ll flay you alive, bastard.”

A dangerous smirk showed off his sharp canines, “I’d like to see you try.”

You let out a frustrated groan as you flung your hands up in defeat, “I don’t have time for this you pink haired bastard!”

You recklessly shoved past him while grumbling curses at him underneath your breath. Wicked laughter only mocked your late departure as you scrambled into your apartment.

Fucking bastard.

Taking a deep breath you quickly ran into your room and grabbed the first pants and shirt you saw. The colorful loose fitting sweats barely matched your poorly picked out shirt.

Running around your apartment like a mad woman you brushed your socks, ate your teeth, and combed a granola bar.

Wait- 

You brushed your teeth, combed your hair, threw day old socks on, then grabbed a granola bar as a quick breakfast.

Throwing on sneakers, you raced out of your apartment. As soon as your foot entered the hallway you internally groaned at the sudden need to glance over at a certain door. 

The expectation of Sukuna still standing at his door waiting for you wrapped around you like a blanket, suffocating you. Against your better judgment you took a hesitant peek over at Sukuna’s apartment. 

His door stood tauntingly still. The only indication of anyone else living on your apartment’s floor was the muffled noise of pots and pans clattering. Yuuji was probably making breakfast for the two of them.

You pressed your lips together. Why did you even think Sukuna would wait for you? It’s not like he had an obligation to speak with you. Yet, you couldn’t help the small prick in your heart at Sukuna’s disappearance.

Shaking away your thoughts you made haste to the elevator which took you down to your building's parking garage. The air was chilly as you stepped out into the concrete fortress. 

It was to be expected. The winter months were beginning to wrap up as the year moved along.

Hell, even March was closing in. 

The thought made you frown. Just a couple more weeks and you’d be visiting your parents for your scheduled family vacation. It was tradition to take a ‘family spring break’. 

Jumping in your car, you sighed at the thought. You hadn’t seen them in person since you first moved into your apartment almost a year ago… when your lessons first started.

You clenched your steering wheel hard. How disappointed would they be if they found out you still hadn’t even made it a month yet?

Checking your car's clock you cursed, 12:05pm. Your lesson started at 12pm. Anxiously, you pressed your foot down on the gas harder.

This was the third time this week you were going to be late to one of your scheduled meetings, and you knew they were catching on. You shuddered at what a certain blond would say to you.

Arriving at a quaint building you took in its familiar brick exterior. The place looked more like a college dorm facility than a professional rehabilitation center. Though, the building was next to the border of the local campus which explained its college look. 

You pressed your lips together tightly, your expression contorting to match your inner anxiety. The thought of being so close to the main campus made you queasy. Finding the courage to get out, you slammed your car door shut and trotted inside the building.

Signing in at the reception desk, you gave the old receptionist a forced smile. The elder lady beamed at you with a genuine grin in return, “Late again I see miss (l/n)!”

You let out a hoarse laugh, “Yep…”

Uncomfortably ending the conversation you eventually made your way over to the intimidating wooden doors that led to the group discussion room. 

Reluctantly, you ripped one of the familiar doors open. Upon entering you were met with spinning heads and speculating stares.

Silence filled the room as you stood awkwardly by the door, unmoving. You chewed on the skin of your mouth when a voice finally acknowledged you.

“Miss (l/n). I’m glad you could make it.”

You flinched at his stoic voice, “My bad, Sir. I had a late night.”

The blond man crossed his legs and pushed his glasses up with his pointer and thumb, “Just like the past few nights?”

You cleared your throat. The feeling of eyes on all sides of you bore into your soul.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Miss (l/n)?”

“Y-Yes.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

You internally cheered when the meeting had finally adjourned. Stretching your stiff limbs you were quick to grab your stuff and get the hell out of there.

“(y/n).”

You turned around and forced a smile, “Nanami.”

The older man sighed, “Come into my office.”

You clenched your teeth, “Of course.”

Following behind the taller blond you frowned. You knew exactly where this conversation was going.

Nanami opened the door to his office and held it for you. You shot him a mumbled thanks before you slumped into one of the leather chairs that sat across from his desk. 

Keeping your eyes straight ahead, you didn’t bother to look at your surroundings. You had been in this room enough times to know every detail in it. 

From the stupid stress balls with smiley faces on his desk to the ever growing collection of diplomas on his walls. You couldn’t forget about the eye rolling ‘hang in there’ poster with a doe eyed little puppy.

However, Nanami wasn’t a full time anger management coach as hard as that was to believe. His full time job was working at the university as a psychology and criminal justice professor. His side gig was dealing with unorthodox people… like you.

Nanami slowly crossed the room and sat down in his brown leather chair. He clasped his hands in front of him and waited for you to speak.

It was always like this. He knew that you understood what you did wrong. So, instead of pointless questions he allowed your guilt to spill the beans for you.

You sighed heavily, not wanting to argue with him today, “Alright I get it. I was late three times this week.”

You waved your hands around dramatically, “But it’s not like that even means anything. I’ve just been busy.”

You could feel the anger in the pit of your stomach heat up, “What right do you have to judge me?! It’s not like you're labeled some freak who needs help!”

A loud silence flooded the room. 

Nanami sighed, “As I suspected.”

Your eyes widened at your mistake, “N-No I didn’t mean that! It’s just that I've been stressed. I swear to you I’m doing a lot better!”

His gaze held your own, “Do you understand the amount of money your parents have put forth into this program?”

You flinched, “Of course I understand-”

“Then why do you not act like it?”

You bit your lip at his question, “I do, I’ve been doing better-”

Nanami held up a hand to silence you, “You had been getting better (y/n). You were on the right track.”

Every syllable he pronounced made you inch back in shame.

“For the past month I have observed a sudden change in your behavior. You’ve been less receptive to the lessons and even disregard coming on time.”

You clutched your hands together in your lap, “I know.”

“So what is it?”

You looked at him confused, “What?”

Nanami frowned, “What changed in your life that made you angry again?”

Flashes of Sukuna hit you like a brick. That fucking bastard did this to you. He was the reason you were getting yelled at. That piece of-

“You're blaming someone else aren't you?”

You jumped at his statement, “He’s a part of the cause! Of course he’s to blame!”

“Accountability, (y/n). We discussed this earlier this week if you would’ve paid attention.”

You clenched your teeth together harder, your knuckles turning white as you clutched the chair's arm rests, “It’s just…been hard.”

“What has been?”

“Living next to some scum bastard I can’t stand to look at! Everyday I’ve had an encounter with him! I can’t have a moment's rest for god's sake!”

Nanami threw you a look before grabbing a happy blue stress ball. He handed the worn ball to you expressionless. You angrily took the dumb ball and squeezed the life out of it.

Counting down, you took a breath, “I understand that I have definitely started some of the fights. But you wouldn’t understand how infuriating he is. It’s like he does it on purpose!”

Nanami nodded, “It hasn’t gotten physical yet I assume?”

You felt your stomach drop. Vivid flashbacks of Sukuna’s head bouncing off the door entered your mind. The sick satisfaction you got from the thunk of his skull hitting the hard wood. Suddenly, the sound of loud sirens entered your ears as you tried to push away more memories.

“No.”

Nanami hummed, “Good, then you're still on the right track. As much as I’d hate to remind you, we wouldn’t want another incident to extend your stay here. You're lucky that girl dropped the charges.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, flashes of red and blue starting to form, “I know.”

“(y/n).”

You forced yourself to look at him.

“Although you have been slipping lately, that is nothing to be afraid of. Relapsing is easy, that is why you are here.”

You clenched the ball harder.

“Do you remember the first day you came here?”

Did you remember? Of course you did. You practically assaulted him in his own office.

You laughed, “I think seeing you here was more of a shocker than having to come.”

A faint smile made its way onto his face, “(y/n) I want you to come back.”

You raised a brow, “I’m already here?”

Nanami shook his head, “No, come back to college.”

You froze, “W-What?”

“I want you to return back to college and finish out your degree. You were only months away from graduating when you dropped out.”

The stress ball in your hand morphed around your fist, “I’m not allowed on campus anymore.”

You shot daggers into his glasses, “You know that.”

“Online.”

Nanami straightened his back, “Finish your courses online and continue your dream.”

You casted your gaze to the floor, “Why should I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

You clenched your teeth, “Why do you even care?”

“You were my best student.”

The ball in your hand blurred as tears dotted your eyes, “…I don’t know if I can.”

Your throat felt constricted, “I-I want to but-” Your breath came out ragged, “What if-”

“Prove to me you want this.”

You lifted tear filled eyes to an outstretched hand. Nanami held a single coin. A 30 day chip.

“Prove to me you’d do anything to go back to school. Even earning this. If you can manage at least one month I will talk personally with President Masamichi to allow you to finish out all your classes and graduate. No questions asked.”

You stared at him with wide eyes. The coin beckoned you to take it. To get away from your dead end job and become something.

“It’s your choice (y/n).”

You took a deep breath and snatched the coin from his hand, “I want to go back. No matter what it takes.”

Nanami nodded, “I look forward to see you back in my class.”

You laughed lightly, “I’m sure you’ll regret that like the first time.”

The blond merely shook his head, “Not once did I.”

A warm feeling filled your chest. The coin heated your palm as your tears slowly dried. Could you really save your ruined life?

“Ah, one more thing,” you watched as he pulled out a thick Manila folder.

“You’ve missed so much during these past few days that you’ll need to extend your stay today. Though unfortunately this means I will have to work overtime.”

Your jaw dropped as he began reading off papers. His lecture not stopping for any of your small pleas. 

This guy-

--------------------------------------------------------------

You walked into your apartment exhausted. Mindlessly throwing yourself onto your couch you yelled into a pillow, allowing the stress of the day to leak out of you.

You had to stay two extra hours in Nanami’s office listening to every part of the lectures you missed. The man didn’t even let you go to the bathroom.

It didn’t help that after you finally escaped from your lessons you had to stop by the grocery store once you remembered you had no food in the house. 

Your luck only ran out more when you got stuck in rush hour traffic. You sat in bumper to bumper traffic for three hours trying to make it through the city only to find out the store was closed for technical maintenance.

What the hell did that even mean? It was like the universe was trying to get you to fail already.

Pouting, you rested your chin on your pillow and scrolled through your phone. A quick answer back to all your messages left you bored after a few minutes. Glancing at your phone’s clock, your eye twitched, 6:45pm

You sighed heavily and flipped onto your side. It was well past dinner time and you didn’t even get to eat yet. A loud stomach growl signified the need for you to finally get up.

Scraping yourself off your couch you made your way over to your open kitchen. You were certain you at least had one cup of Kraft Mac And Cheese left.

Flipping on the lightswitch, the sound of a flickering light caught your attention. Abruptly, the lights in your kitchen went out along with every other source of electricity following in suit.

You clenched your teeth together and opened your fridge. A pit in your stomach formed at the sight of a scarce fridge engulfed in darkness. The damn thing had turned off as well. Trying your stove you cursed when it also made no indication of being on.

You came to the sudden conclusion that everything in your apartment had been turned off. Fuck.

You weighed your options. Stay home and starve for the night with the hopes of your electricity coming on by morning. Or, drag your sorry ass over to Sukuna's and see if his electricity was up and running.

If his wasn’t you could report the issue much faster if it was a building issue rather than just your own apartment. But did you really want to talk with Sukuna? Especially after the day you just had?

Groaning you rubbed your brows. Screw it. Might as well make it a test of faith for the next month to come.

Swiftly exiting your apartment you took notice of the lit up hallway. At least now you knew the entire building’s power wasn’t out.

Knocking on Sukuna’s door you waited for familiar footsteps. No answer.

You knocked louder. Nothing. 

The quiet buzz of the hallway's lights mocked your pathetic attempts.

Growing agitated you went to bang on the door with your fists before you caught yourself. Calm down. Breath.

After a quick count down from 10, you gently knocked again. Faint rummaging flowed from the door's crack but there was still no answer.

You clenched your hand in a fist. Why did you even care at this point? You knew the building's power was still on.

You should just go to the reception desk and report-

Sukuna’s door leisurely opened to reveal a figure you knew all too well. You swallowed hard at his lack of attire.

Sukuna’s tattooed chest was on display as gray sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips. Your eyes trailed his pronounced v-line before you snapped them back up to his eyes. Shit.

“What?”

Sukuna crossed his arms and leaned against his door frame. You watched as his arms flexed naturally showing off the thick lines that decorated his skin.

You chewed your lip, “Is your power on?”

“Obviously.”

Your jaw twitched, “Mines off. Can I borrow your kitchen?”

What the hell were you saying?? You didn’t even want to talk to him now you wanted to use his kitchen??

Sukuna snorted, “Why should I?”

You glared at him, “Listen, asshole. All my shit went out, you can at least spare me your damn microwave.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes before his pushed off his door frame. You grunted when he carelessly shoved past you and walked over to your door.

“What are you doing?”

Your brain spun as Sukuna abruptly walked into your apartment like he owned the place.

“Fixing your problem so you don’t bother me.”

You had little time to rebuttal his insult as you internally worried about the disarray of your apartment. The place looked like a hurricane went through there.

“W-Wait a minute!”

You ran after his form pathetically holding your hand out to stop him. Embarrassment filled your face as you watched him look around your apartment in disgust.

“You live like this?”  

You growled, “I haven’t had time to clean, dick!”

Sukuna scoffed, “Sure. Where’s your Breaker Box?”

Composing yourself, you led him to a small room near the front of your apartment. The ‘room’ was barely the size of a closet, Sukuna’s form just managed to fit.

The box sat attached to the back wall along with long forgotten brooms and other random items you shoved in there. Immediately, you heard Sukuna tsk before he retreated out of the small space.

“It looks like everything is on. You must’ve blown a fuse.”

Sukuna scratched his neck, “Have the desk worker call you an electrician in the morning, for now you can stay at mine.”

You nodded, “Okay. Wait what-”

Sukuna didn’t bother waiting for your answer before he started walking back to his own apartment.

You stood in place, jaw to the floor. Did he just ask you to stay the night?

｡･:*˚:✧⤷

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[the-casbah-way]

forgive the brief jesus chris superstar rant but. there is a very important difference between the pharisees being villains and the pharisees being antagonists. they're technically antagonists because they're actively working against the interests of our protagonist, but i don't believe they should ever be played as villains. they're not evil or bad or wrong. they're terrified just like literally everyone else in the show is, and their actions are completely justified. to me that's the entire point of the musical. it's not about christianity; it's about the impact the roman empire's brutal and violent imperialism had on everyone on all levels. including jesus and judas, but also including the pharisees, and even herod and pilate. when a powerful coloniser forces their presence on innocent people they are the only winners. everyone else suffers, even the puppet kings and high priests who look like they're reaping some sort of benefit from it all. that's roman propaganda. the romans kept native rulers like herod and caiaphas in power to maintain the illusion of provincial autonomy, and keep populations appeased and therefore under control. everyone in the show is acting out of fear of the romans. the one roman character we do see (pilate) is acting out of fear of his own emperor. it makes no sense to cast the pharisees as two dimensional Bad Guys, especially when the same productions that do that usually offer a sympathetic portrayal of pilate. it would be so easy to stage and direct a production in a way that makes it obvious that the pharisees are doing what they're doing because they truly have no choice, and not because they're pure evil and want to kill jesus for the sake of it. it's not only an antisemitic trope but also undermines a really important theme of the musical. if you can see the humanity in the violent roman governor installed forcefully on conquered land then you can afford some humanity for the pharisees too. they are victims of pilate and victims of rome just like everyone else

[lucidloving]

Daphne Gottlieb, "Slut" // @aimitkkays on Twitter // Frank Bidart, Half-light: Collected Poems // @newathens // @i_am_maruwi on Twitter // Achilles — Emma Blackery

[leona-florianova]

the mad bastards did it

*REVEAL OF NEW VEGAS THAT DOES NOT SPARK JOY*

[honey-makes-mogai]

Pickagodquoteic -

A gender related to the quote “Pick a god and pray.”

[PT: Pickagodquoteic -]

[junkdrawerfan]

A ramble.

You know this season has so many themes of rage and the danger of rage but what’s really interesting to me is the fact that in the heat of battle as they fought for Cassandra’s mind and soul, Kristen (and the dice) encouraged Casandra to be angry.

What was it Kristen said… “Anger is a check engine light.” I think the reason — in universe — that that wasn’t enough to save Casandra is that anger isn’t just a warning system. Anger is the point.

I think the true moral of this season is Anger is good and correct as long as it is active. Swallowing down anger until it starts to poison you. Undirected anger that just lashes out badly. Anger for the sake of anger. These are bad anger’s, that can destroy you. But there are good anger’s that are necessary.

If Cassandra had allowed her growing rage at Kristen to make her speak her mind instead of swallowing it down again and again until it started to poison her, would we be here right now?

That’s also the role of Portor this season: to show us a good character who says anger and rage are good and does not need to be justified. Anger and rage are not a secondary emotion. And pushing Grogug — an extremely talented Barbarian — to rage without it having to be “justified” is necessary and good actually. Gorgug will not learn self confidence if he’s still scared/ashamed of the emotion that saves his and his friend’s lives 8-9 times a week.

(Granted is Portor still flawed and a bit of an assjole, yeah, but so are all the characters we like.)

This unnamed god that now we know is called Anarkus’ domain is rage. But I think the reason they are corrupted is not because they are angry but because their anger is an undirected anger. It is an inactive anger. So it poisons them, filled them with such rage that their blood carbonizes into diamond under the heat of their bottled rage. I think their uncorrupted form isn’t less angry. I think it’s just more proactive.

[crowleycorvid]

I can't believe the message of crystallized was that Lloyd needed to stop suppressing his anger and instead learn to let it out and let it go and channel it in healthy and productive ways instead of the unhealthy ways it'd previously shown itself in. I can't believe that was the message and he beat the overlord's ass in oni form as a symbol of how using your anger to your advantage instead of letting it hurt the ones you love and yourself is important. I can't believe that's what happened guys. Right guys