Mlp Angry Novels & Stories

“He slapped you for the first time.” “Look, anger has different levels. Maybe his anger level hit a hundred percent and that’s why he slapped me. So what? Anger is anger. When people are angry, they make threats or say things they probably never meant. My dad was just doing these things. I guess I’ve explained this to you before. Stop making me talk. I’m tired.” Andra went back to laying on her side, believing that Molly would now back down because of the ensuing silence that followed.

“But you can stop the looking from deciding who you are. And you can make sure people who cross lines face consequences.” He looked toward Lucian. Lucian was still on the phone, his voice low and clipped as he spoke. “Will Mara make paper scary again?” “Yes,” I said. “Very scary.” Daniel nodded but he did not smile. The good news had been touched. And I wanted to do something violent with my bare hands for the first time in my life. Not because I would but because the feeling had finally become pure enough to name. Anger. Not panic. Not shame. Anger.

TWENTY EIGHT Lisa's face flushed with anger, her lips pressed into a thin line as she stormed toward Malia, her eyes blazing with indignation. She moved so quickly and forcefully that the tension in the air crackled around her, completely ignoring Marco who stood nearby, his gaze shifting between the two women with a quiet intensity. “Malia, I thought you were fired?” Lisa spat, her voice sharp and accusatory, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Her fists clenched at her sides as she squared off with Malia, her anger palpable.

I scream as I angrily throw the glass I was holding in my hand and its shattered pieces spread across the floor. I can feel anger rise in me as my eyes turn yellow and my fingers partially transform into paws. I walk over to the sitting area where I lift up the couches and angrily throw them against the wall, caring less about the ruckus I’m causing in the living room. I walk over to the flat screen TV and angrily push it down from the cupboard. A few servants rush into the living room but none of them has the courage to approach or try to stop me. They very well know what they’ll be getting themselves into if they attempt to do that. I scream in fury as I pick up the glass table at the

Being the most famous sex worker in this club does not make her better than me or anyone in this club. Angela's eyes become fierce, looking at me as if she wants to kill me. And this time, she's not able to change her expression anymore and put on a facade. She's too angry to do that again, and I love it—I love the reaction that I am able to get from her. It is so satisfying to see her getting riled up by me, something that she was not able to do to me.

There’s a strange clarity to my anger—a focus that makes every sense sharper, every movement precise. The moment I reach the edge of the hideout, I don’t stop to think. I kick down the door, wood splintering under the force of my boot, and I step inside, feeling every ounce of anger, every piece of heartbreak, flood through me like a dam breaking. The witches turn, eyes wide with shock, but I don’t give them a chance to scream.

Carl says as he immediately snaps out of what he was thinking about Mia “Go straight to the point, I am really busy now and I don’t have time for all this” as Carl says thus, he gets angry and his forehead folds in to the old merciless look he use to have back when he was the ruthless Carl , his teeth grinding, he then threw his pen away

Every twitch of his lips, every sparkle in his eye, was a fresh betrayal, a new reminder of the pain he had caused. I felt my jaw clench, my teeth grinding together in a futile attempt to contain the fury that threatened to consume me. My hands curled into fists, the nails digging deep into my palms as I struggled to maintain a semblance of calm. But it was no use. Malcolm's smile was a constant reminder of his deceit, and it fed the flames of my anger, making it harder to keep my emotions in check.

It’s said the most dangerous people are the ones who have nothing left to lose, that welcomed death even. Being angry at the whole fucking world for taking everything from you, leaving you alone to watch the world around you as it carry’s on. Watching the people you once thought were the protectors, when in fact they were to blame for the empty hole that now sits heavy in your chest where once your heart sat.

Long gone was the old Angela Clampitt who used to be scared and submissive to everyone’s whim. Daniela lost control. “I will kill you!” She screeched and stabbed her claws into Angela’s neck who hissed. “And then your bastard child…” Before she could complete the sentence, something inside Angela snapped. It broke the last thin line of patience she was holding onto. Anger rose in every cell of her body and her hazel eyes flashed orangish spitting fire before she ferociously snarled, “Touch him… and you are dead.” With a force that even shocked her, Angela shoved Daniela so hard that she flew backward and crashed onto the floor with a scream.