Mlp Angry 소설 & 이야기

Not what do you need now that we are planning against an extraction team that is two weeks out. Just that. Two words. Flat and simple and pointed at nothing except the actual question. I turned it over for a moment, the way I turned over most things. The question itself felt unusual, like something I was not used to receiving, a glass being offered to someone who had been drinking from their hands for so long they had forgotten glasses existed. "Angry," I said. "But useful angry. The kind I can actually do something with." He nodded once, his eyes staying on the road. "Good."

Philip laughed mockingly. What he wanted to do was to stoke Mandy’s fury. When a person got angry and flew into a rage, it was easy to lose rationale. Sure enough, his words made Mandy so angry that she started to tremble. Likewise, those guys in Warehouse 8 also looked at Philip with admiration. One word—awesome! Second word—amazing! Mandy angrily clenched her fist. The hidden lavender light under her eyes reflected a biting killing intent! In the Nonagon, everyone was respectful to her, but when she got here, she was actually humiliated by a scoundrel who was nothing!

Angie clenched her jaw and looked away. “They actually… Still can do stuff like that…?” Elias looked disturbed as well. "Damn… He only gets angrier and more aggressive with every hit that one deals." He finally looked away too. “I think I’ve seen too much.” He mumbled under his breath. However, there was only silence from Angie. He peeked at her only to find her with a dark and sullen expression. He caught the way she gripped her blades so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Fucking bastard! ****

The human version of Hulk as the announcer had called him. He stared at me with bloodshot eyes, like a predator ready to devour its prey. He had eliminated four men before me. I was the last guy on the list since my entry came late. I hadn't planned on going to fight but after Kris shut me out, I needed to take my anger out on something or particularly someone. I'd never been good with anger management. When vexed, someone dies. It's how I'd been trained. The bell went off signalling for the fight to start. Hulk charged at me and a smile broke out of my face.

Anger is visible on his face. Well, I might as well enjoy this game.

I frowned deeply when I realized that Moore could not get help; because he did not recognize the need for help, “I never said you were mentally unstable, psychology is not—“ “Don’t play those games with me!” Moore snapped. I flinched and grabbed my crutches for support. “Don’t try to talk me down or treat me like I am stupid. I am not broken, I am not sad or depressed, I am angry!” He confessed and threw another glass as if to prove his point. “What are you angry about? Who are you angry at?” I pressed on and got to my feet. I held the crutches tightly and suddenly let go of them. I stumbled but kept my feet planted in the ground.

“Are you angry? People are tools, including you” The man looks at Mia with cold eyes, different from his usual look, Mia does not reply and just turns her head to leave. Since that day, the two rarely see each other. Whenever he needs blood, Malcolm will just call Lita instead of Mia.

He’s clearly bypassed shock and gone straight to anger. “I’m gonna murder her I swear. I’ll do time for the Bitch I don’t care!” Molly's angry voice seems to shock everyone as the chatter stops and everyone turns to face her. I’m slightly shocked at her anger but more than anything I find her outburst fucking cute and a huge turn-on. Fuck I know it’s not the time for it but apparently, my dick isn’t willing to listen to reason right now.

“Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Milena’s throat went dry. She didn’t want to find out. Not at all. “Relax, cupcake,” Angie said with a smirk. “If he was going to kill you, he’d have done it already.” Milena swallowed hard. That wasn’t exactly reassuring. Angie extended a hand. “I’m Angie. One of the best fighters in the clan. Respected, feared… and not someone you want as an enemy.” Milena hesitated before taking her hand. Angie’s grip was firm, her palm calloused—nothing like the hesitant, weak grip Milena offered in return.