[fuchsiamae]

an incomplete list of unsettling short stories I read in textbooks

the scarlet ibis

marigolds

the diamond necklace

the monkey’s paw

the open boat

the lady and the tiger

the minister’s black veil

an occurrence at owl creek bridge

a rose for emily

(I found that one by googling “short story corpse in the house,” first result)

the cask of amontillado

the yellow wallpaper

the most dangerous game

a good man is hard to find

some are well-known, some obscure, some I enjoy as an adult, all made me uncomfortable between the ages of 11-15

add your own weird shit, I wanna be literary and disturbed

[repulsion-gel]

The Tell-Tale Heart, The Gift of the Magi, The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calavaras County, Thank You Ma'am

[allyitis]

the box social by james reaney. i remember we all had to silently read it in class, and you would hear the moment everyone reached the Part because some people would audibly go “what”

[fuchsiamae]

wHat did I just put my eyes on

[schrodingers-rufus]

“The Veldt” by Ray Bradbury

Not quite a short story, but read in class: “The Monsters are Due on Maple Street” from The Twilight Zone

[w3rewolf-th3rewolf]

Harrison Bergeron, Cat and the Coffee Drinkers

[rebel-against-reality]

“Where are you going and where have you been” by Joyce carol oates

[actuallyapathy]

“The Pedestrian” by Ray Bradbury

[asexualzoro]

the lottery by shirley jackson

[eccentwrit]

i can’t believe Roald Dahl’s “The Landlady” wasn’t already mentioned and also it’s not so much unsettling as more absurdist but “The Leader” by Eugene Ionesco definitely made me go wtf

[idlewildly]

Ett halvt ark papper. I cried so much.

[bravinto]

Ночь у мазара, А. Шалимов

[siderealsandman]

A Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury

[insanitysbloomings]

I Have no Mouth, and I Must Scream by Harlan Ellison

[felderwin]

The Lottery by Shirley Jackson

All Summer in a Day by Ray Bradbury 

[was-once-somewhere-else]

Some of Us Had Been Threatening Our Friend Colby, by Donald Barthelme

[jeaniefranklins]

I read Ray Bradbury’s “All Summer In A Day” in seventh grade (it wasn’t assigned, I was just going through my textbook for new stuff to read) and as a bullied kid with SAD, it Fucked Me Up.

[sanguinarysanguinity]

An Ordinary Day with Peanuts, by Shirley Jackson

[real-faker]

Eh, this was more like community college, but The Star by Arthur C. Clarke

[scarlettaagni]

Lamb to the Slaughter by Roald Dahl

and this story that I can’t remember the name of and can’t find, though it might be by O. Henry? it’s about a bunch of demons who want to stop Santa Claus from going through with Christmas, and he must travel through the mountains they inhabit to escape their vices? (good christ I can’t remember the name for the life of me)

[ghostloner]

Ok but the laughing man and a good day for bananafish but j.d. Salinger

[nitrosplicer]

The City (195) Ray Bradbury. An intense commentary on colonialism and space exploration. I read it for a sci fi survey class.

Another short story I read in that sci fi class was Vaster than Empires and More Slow (1971) by Ursula K. Le Guin. A commentary on humanity and how human we believe ourselves to be. Also, an interesting commentary on mental health.

In the Woods Beneath the Cherry Blossoms in Full Bloom, written in 1947 by Ango Sakaguchi. It made my skin crawl the first time I read it.

Also going to recommend For A Breath I Tarry by Roger Zelazny, a commentary on whether AI can become human in a future without humans: http://www.kulichki.com/moshkow/ZELQZNY/forbreat.txt

[cryingalonewithfrankenstein]

whoever posted “The Laughing Man” and “A Good Day For Bananafish” is Correct

[fluffmugger]

the scarlet ibis

marigolds

the diamond necklace

the monkey’s paw

the open boat

the lady and the tiger (I assume you meant Stockton’s The lady or the  tiger?)

the minister’s black veil

an occurrence at owl creek bridge

a rose for emily

the cask of amontillado

the yellow wallpaper

the most dangerous game

a good man is hard to find

The Tell-Tale Heart

 The Gift of the Magi

The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calavaras County

 Thank You Ma'am

The box social 

The Veldt

The Monsters are Due on Maple Street

Harrison Bergeron

Cat and the Coffee Drinkers

Where are you going and where have you been

The Pedestrian” by Ray Bradbury

The lottery by shirley jackson

The Landlady

The Leader

Ett halvt ark papper.

Ночь у мазара, А. Шалимов

A Sound of Thunder 

I Have no Mouth, and I Must Scream 

All Summer in a Day 

Some of Us Had Been Threatening Our Friend Colby

An Ordinary Day with Peanuts

The Star 

Lamb to the Slaughter

The laughing man 

A perfect day for bananafish

The City (link goes to compendium of short stories)

Vaster than Empires and More Slow (1971) by Ursula K. Le Guin.

In the Woods Beneath the Cherry Blossoms in Full Bloom 

For A Breath I Tarry 

[the-prince-of-tides]

All of Flannery O'Connor’s shorts.

[thecaffeinebookwarrior-deactiva]

I didn’t read it in a text book, but “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream” haunted me for life.

[tophatandboots]

Breakfast by James Herbert. Found it in a compilation of some kind in my English classroom aged 15. Utterly unsettled to this day when I remember it

[farsicalaquatic-deactivated2024]

How Much Land Does a Man Need? by Leo Tolstoy

[listing-to-port]

Six cities in love with their own reflections

1. Vertical city, the size of a small village on the surface. Extends via a wide shaft an unspecified distance into the earth. Eactly how far is unclear because the city’s surface dwellers are unable to descend beyond the point that the heat and pressure become too much to bear for them; those living further down are able to descend further, but not to climb to the surface, which is airless and cold to them; and there are several such transitions before presumably the bottom of the city is reached. Rumours pass regularly back and forth, as do heat-suited explorers who never come back. Meanwhile, there are those who say that an identical city exists on the other side of the world….

2. A city shared by daytime workers, who use the sleeping areas at night, and nighttime workers, who use the sleeping areas by day. Each group is entirely sure that the city becomes a nest of villainry whilst they sleep, best avoided at all costs. The different inhabitants of the sleeping areas never meet, but will often write each other notes, for example explaining if something has broken or requesting that some foodstuff be left alone. However, they all know that they cannot trust their home’s other inhabitants, who are probably liars.

3. A city that has come to terms with the dead coming back to life; the event where they began to rise having occurred some time ago, and having proved to be surprisingly containable and not the end of the world after all. Now there are areas of the city where the living live, and areas of the city inhabited by the dead, and even some limited commerce between the two. Space is perpetually a problem; although the dead towns are small at the moment, their population can only go up. The more disintegrated dead can fit themselves to the spaces available, although sometimes they block important vents or pipes. The less disintegrated dead argue that they should be able to set up mausoleums in the green belt, but nobody has updated planning laws since the event. It is a bureaucratic mess.

4. A shining city in the mountains, viewable from afar, notable for the symmetry of its inhabitants’ motions and for the intricate tesselations of its towers. In reality it is just a single large building set amid a vast field of mirrored rocks. The building is a monument to whatever happened to coat the rocks with metal, and the small number of inhabitants there tend to the monument and run a small farm. Sometimes birds descend on the city in vast fractal flocks, and then the people in the valley below shut their doors.

5. A city on a vast stone slab beside a lake, inhabited by frog people. If everyone runs to one end of the city the slab tips over, flipping its overwater and underwater parts. This is done ceremonially twice a year; but may also occasionally happen by accident, for example when there is a particularly popular concert on one side of the city.

6. A city existing mainly as data. It stands, when it stands, on a wide plain on a desolate moon. Every few tens of years it is destroyed in some way or other. Then the fabricating machines come out from under the surface, and those of the inhabitants who remain discuss which of the city’s backups to restore from. There is a particularly acclaimed square with a fountain at its centre which has made it into almost all of the final versions of the city. Other than that it is usually a mix of parts that the city has had before, depending on the tastes of who is putting it together and the political climate of the time. One can never be sure if a particular suburb will be there in the physical city or not; but if not, it remains in the data, ready to come back some day.

[mankillercalledbunny]

Icarus is in love with Apollo. As he flies higher he whispers prayers, and when he falls to the ocean the Nereids, who heard his prayers, keep him alive and bring him to the sunset. He meets Apollo there and the sun god takes Icarus in his arms and whispers his name. Icarus wakes to his love’s beautiful face shining above him. Icarus whispers, “I tried to fly to you.” And Apollo whispers back, “you did.”

[mankillercalledbunny]

Later on, from the safety of his home, Daedalus offers a prayer of his own:

To the god who holds my son in his heart: build his wings of stronger stuff than wax.

[spider-artdump]

[croik]

Sites of Supernatural Occurrence and Assessment

Making myself a map of various supernatural locations and organizations in the horror podcast I've been listening to. Loose criteria is:

a) Audio drama

b) Supernatural, particularly Eldritch

c) Could conceivably exist in a version of our modern day(ish)

Limited by how many icons I could squish in. Open to suggestions, especially outside of the US and UK!

[croik]

Updated version!!

[fairycosmos]

it’s genuinely so funny that im alive and this is what im doing

[herawell]

Did some calculation using the timeline on the Wikia and figured out that, out of the 1223 days that comprised the Hephaestus mission, Eiffel and Minkowski spent roughly 298 days as friends. That's ten months spread out over a three and half year period. Excluding the first five hundred days of the mission before the Christmas mutiny, the six months Eiffel was MIA, the three months Minkowski spent avoiding him post "Need to Know", the month after that when she was digesting the news, and the two weeks between "Shut Up and Listen" and "Constructive Criticism" when Eiffel avoided everyone.

I don't have any real commentary to add, just that it's incredible that given how pivotal this relationship is to the podcast (I remember Urbina or one of the writers once said that Wolf 359 is about conversations between Minkowski and Eiffel), they spend only about a quarter of the mission together and not at odds with one another.

[notagainpleasenotagain]

Kentucky Route Zero isn't even a game its more like the all encompassing understanding that the people around you and the people around the people around you have already touched your life and will continue to shape you in ways you can't fully comprehend, couldn't even begin to imagine, and how their existences will leave you affected even in your ignorance. It is the feeling that we all need connection. It is a eulogy to those that are still here because we love them so much that when they leave us we're going to miss them and love them even when we don't remember them don't fucking touch me

[oldcf]

this is for my people. with the silly podcast syndrome.

[poppletoninkzine]

Best Quotes From 'If We Were Villains'

"You can justify anything if you do it poetically enough."

"You can't quantify humanity. You can't measure it - not the way you mean to. People are passionate and flawed and fallible. They make mistakes. Their memories fade. Their eyes deceive them."

"I don't know, it's like I look at you and the sonnets make sense. The good ones, anyway."

"Do you blame Shakespeare for any of it?" The question is so unlikely, so nonsensical coming from such a sensible man, that I can't help but suppress a smile. "I blame him for all of it."

'She says, “Were you in love with him?” “Yes,” I say, simply. James and I put each other through the kind of reckless passions Gwendolyn once talked about, joy and anger and desire and despair. After all that, was it really so strange? I am no longer baffled or amazed or embarrassed by it. “Yes, I was.” It’s not the whole truth. The whole truth is, I’m in love with him still.'

'I need language to live like food - lexemes and morphemes and morsels of meaning nourish me with the knowledge that, yes, there is a word for this. Someone else has felt it before.'

'Below was the motto: Per aspera ad astra. I'd heard a variety of translations, but the one I liked best was Through the thorns to the stars.'

"We cracked up. [...] But we didn't really shatter until we were all back together again."

'The clock on the mantel struck twelve, and we stirred, one by one, like seven statues coming to life.'

'Actors are by nature volatile - alchemic creatures composed of incendiary elements, emotion and ego and envy. Heat them up, stir them together, and sometimes you get gold. Sometimes disaster.'

[deramin2]

Sometimes I'm just going along with my day and suddenly just remember parts of Kentucky Route Zero and am just overwhelmed by its grief and its beauty. The way personal grief is contextualized between the grief of surviving an exploitive society.

Everything done wasn't enough, but it mattered, and it matters that collectively we drag forward trying to survive, propeled by the beauty and magic around us from nature and ordinary people and the inevitable destruction of the machines that eat people. None of us will get out of this alive. We're predestined to die. But we affected the world and people change the world through their memories of us.

We're only capable of seeing a stylized, simplified version of the world, piecing it together from the scraps we come across. From the conversations we initiate. The world around us we dare to observe. Really letting ourself stop and take in the world around us.

No goal, just to really let yourself be in the world. And weep.

[devilsskettle]

Kentucky Route Zero Act III / Act IV

[borderlinenocturnal]

Relistening to wolf 359 is like. Eiffel will say something like "that was the worst thing that ever happened in my entire life. I'm newly traumatised now" and it's like ep4 of 61.

[flame-cat]

he doesnt even know

[selfship-quotes]

I love soulmates but also this-

[qilingxiong]

[faustandfurious]

Unfortunately one of my main criteria for enjoying high fantasy is whether it scratches my itch for narrative symmetry or not

[faustandfurious]

You have the Vanyar (air), the Noldor (fire) and the Teleri (water), and then there’s Fingolfin (air), Fëanor (fire) and Finarfin (water), with history repeating itself in Vilya (air), Narya (fire) and Nenya (water), and Melkor is to Manwë as Fëanor is to Fingolfin, while Thingol is to Melian as Beren is to Luthien and Aragorn is to Arwen, and when Gandalf wears Narya, the Ring of Fire, created by Celebrimbor, he dies by Balrog just like Fëanor, in Moria where the Star of Fëanor is carved into the door, and the silmarils are in the air, fire and water, and when Gollum falls into the fire with the Ring that has driven him to madness for centuries, can you hear Maedhros falling in the background?

[humunanunga]

Enough of the trope where memory loss undoes the damage or the corruption or whatever. More content where removing memories just removes the context.

The tragedy of needing to grieve and not knowing what or who you lost or why. The angst of having trauma and being denied the awareness that it's trauma. The suspense of being different somehow and left to wonder how and when. The tension of knowing that something is off and you can't find where it hurts. The Adventure Zone gets it. Kingdom Hearts gets it.

There is an aching inside you and you don't know how it got there.

[rageclownz]

David Ward’s relationship with being seen, known, and understood is one of my favorite things about I am in Eskew. Take these two quotes:

Of course.

Like me, the city wants to be witnessed.

It wants to be understood.

(I am in Eskew, episode 27: “Breakout”)

But then there’s:

And although I was curious to see what lay at the other side of the tunnel, I was also petrified by the possibility of being seen by anyone - a mugger, a policeman, my mother, anyone - who might ask me what I was doing out here so late by myself.

The awful possibility that someone might try to hurt me or help me.

The awful possibility of being seen.

(I am in Eskew, episode 30: “The Boy Who Saw Cracks In The World”)

David wants to be known. He wants to be understood. But he’s afraid of it. He is afraid of how much Eskew knows him, about how connected they are. It’s one of the reasons the podcast ends the way it does.