How Emotions Are Made Novels & Stories

Delight? Those were emotions that was taught to him, not something he recognize, but taught by his mother and those elders of the vampire society. He could never know what emotion he has unless someone points it to him as a child and that had became a habit that continue as he grew older, causing him to only sort his emotion into anger or amusement. There wasn't any necessity in feeling sorrow, he never felt sad, nor does he feel the urge to cry ever in his life. So what was this emotion?

Not with logic. Not with structure. But with the things that didn’t stay consistent. Didn’t behave predictably. Didn’t fit into patterns. “Emotion isn’t just input,” she continued. “It changes based on experience.” A pause. “On memory.” Another. “On loss.” The word lingered. Heavy. Unavoidable. And suddenly— the room felt different. Quieter. Softer. Not physically. But in the way tension shifted. Like something had just been introduced— that the system didn’t know how to process fully.

I see the rain beads upon the cars, upon each leaf and washing my outstretched fingers. Soon they will pull together, forming the puddles, opening up a whole new avenue of rain-related fun. Perhaps it isn't normal to love a rainy day so much, but who cares about normal anyway? I'm pretty sure "normal" is a made up thing. For me, emotions are spectrums rather than absolutes, or destinations. As such I see a range from sad, through neutral, to happy that blends. For

When I wasn’t tending to my own duties or spending time with the twins, I was usually in the training yard, trying to get the knife to obey my will again. For the most part, it was unresponsive. But I quickly realized that it had little to do with the knife itself and everything to do with my own inability to channel emotions like tools. To practice, I imagined my emotions as a physical thing. I imagined anger as a red ball of energy, joy as a golden one, sadness blue, grief green. When I reached deep within my chest and sought out one of the emotions, anger, for example, I would then picture it moving up and through my shoulder, down my arm, then to the tips of my fingers.

his voice came out low, almost like it was a warning. I wanted to argue with him, but I knew he was right. I let out a long breath, "Fine. Tell me what to do?" Lucien didn't move from his place. He gave a look at the still water. "Emotions trigger reactions." I licked my lips. "Fear makes it worse, strong emotions affect the surrounding elements," he continued. I started thinking about the time water moved around me. He was right. Every time it happened, my emotions were not in my control.

“Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m really, really sure. It can make you want to please your mate, or feel reactions like you would if you loved someone. Like, if they’re hurt, you’ll be frantic to make them feel better, because the bond’s protecting itself. But it can’t create emotions that aren’t there. I mean, you can feel what your mate’s feeling, and that could fuck with you. But it can’t actually change the way you feel, deep-down. No magic can do that.” Every word chipped away at the defenses I’d been building, trying to shore up my determination to keep Drew at arm’s length.

JAXON Emotions were underrated. They could make or mar you. It was one thing to have control over them and it was another thing to shut them out completely. Our emotions are like windows into our souls. They define us. They make up the essential part of us. And shutting it out only renders us void. Shutting my emotions nulled me completely and I began seeing being emotionless as a form of normalcy. I could barely differentiate between what was real and what wasn't.

When he finally said something, it was, "so, you've really not cried since you were six?" I simply shrugged in reply. "That's not right, Stephanie." "And why is that?" I asked between chuckles. "Because crying is a key way in expressing one's emotions. You feel something; something emotional - sad, happy, or bittersweet, and it moves you to tears. Not like you should cry every day or every week, but there are those moments that come once in a while."

Not! Emmy patted her chest and took a deep breath out, "Thank goodness, I haven't lost my heart. I'm so scared!" Just as she thought of that, her phone buzzed again. It was Sarah's other message. "If you're uncertain about what I said before, the most direct sign is that his emotions will affect your mood." Emmy, "!!!" It was exactly what she had just experienced! All of Emmy's emotions and quick temper were caused by Vince's expressionless face. Upon realizing that, Emmy threw her phone away. Sitting there in a daze, she was stunned.

I tried not to think about that, how I shoved emotions into their brains like a well honed blade, until they broke, at that time I had no choice, it was me or them, I regret nothing, but it was a really gruesome sight one I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. “I checked before I ripped them to pieces for the vultures to dine on” I make a face of disgust. “I’m guessing that was you?” I nod after a moment, “As Nana said, I can give people my emotions, to help them feel better” I paused “or feel hell” I more than anyone know how an overwhelming amount of emotions can be deadly. “Good, you did well-“he’s cut off by the sound of knocking on the door. “I just wanted to say the food is ready now” Emm