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40TH CENTURY DYSTOPIAN MAINE | COZY SWEET ROMANTASY | DARK FANTASY | ELVES & FAERIES & DEMONS & SHIFTERS | FURRY YAOI | GOTHIC LITERATURE | GYPSY MAIN CHARACTERS | INTERSEX CHARACTER | LGBTQAI+ FICTION | MARRIED GAY COUPLE | MINI STORY | Mpreg SERIES | POLY GAY ROMANCE | QUEER FICTION | SLICE OF LIFE | TRANSMAN CHARACTER | VIGNETTE | ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE |
🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸
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The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane - A Pink Necromancer Short Fiction Story
Series Trigger Warnings:
* Polyamorous married gay couple and their live-in lover
* Intersex main character, who lives as a trans man
* Furry Yaoi
* Characters often drink, swear, use drugs, and smoke hookahs.
* Transman Mpreg
Not all things appear in all stories.
Series Heat Level:
* Short Stories: Sweet, Fluffy, Lime, or Limon
* Novellas: Lime, Limon, Orange
* Novels: Orange, Lemon
Jibber Jabber Ramblings by the Fire
{NaNoWriMo 2024: Day 18}🦄🌸
The campfire crackled in the icy night, its golden light flickering over the strange duo huddled nearby.
A Sheep Demon, wild-eyed and animated, paced around the fire with the frenetic energy of a scientist unraveling the secrets of the universe. His pleco-pupiled yellow eyes glowed unnervingly, reflecting the dancing flames as he gestured wildly with frantic hands.
“It’s not just about heat!” GhoulSpawn exclaimed, his voice pitching higher with every word. “Heat is a mere byproduct, a side effect! The combustion process releases — no, no, it transforms — chemical bonds into energy! Energy we can measure, though it’s never precise, never absolute, because the entropy — oh, the entropy — is always increasing!”
Quaraun, lounging serenely beneath layers of pink fur and ruffled silk, sipped absinthe from a delicate crystal goblet. His resplendent pink gown shimmered softly in the firelight, every ruffle and fold a testament to his decadent artistry. His twelve foot long silver hair, prehensile and glowing faintly, draped over his shoulders, idly coiling around his mechanical gold hands.
He watched GhoulSpawn with a calm, detached curiosity, like a cat observing a particularly loud bird.
“Do you ever breathe, Glinta?” Quaraun asked, his voice lilting with poetic amusement.
GhoulSpawn froze mid-gesture, his clawed fingers curled in the air.
“Breathe? Of course, I breathe! Everyone breathes! Well, except the undead, obviously. But that’s irrelevant! Breathing is simply the intake of oxygen to fuel cellular respiration, which produces — ”
“Ah.” Quaraun raised a gold finger. “There it is. I spoke too soon.”
GhoulSpawn blinked, momentarily thrown off track. He shook his head vigorously, his unruly mane of woolly hair bouncing like a storm-cloud halo. The yellow and orange patterns of his tie-dyed batik caftan rippled in the firelight as he resumed pacing.
“You are jibber jabbering, Glinta.”
“I’m not jibber jabbering!”
“Well what do you call it?”
“I’m trying to explain to you how science works!”
“Hmm huh. That is what I said. Jibber jabber. Foolish, stuff and nonsense.”
“Quaraun, your use of magic, superstitions, asking cards and gemstones what choices to make, worshiping the moon — -THAT — -all THAT, is foolish stuff and nonsense. That is SCIENCE!”
Quaraun shrugged.
The Elf had no formal education, at least not anything GhoulSpawn would have classified as a formal education. Though this was not the Elf’s fault, as schools, universities, and colleges had all ceased to exist long before Quaraun had been born.
Quaraun had no concept of what a 20th century Earth school was like.
No understanding of what it was GhoulSpawn had when GhoulSpawn explained how many Harvard University PhDs he had.
And poor GhoulSpawn, when he tried to take Quaraun and BoomFuzzy to see Harvard University, the only thing there was The Boston Archaeological Dig Site on the outskirts of The GodForsaken City.
Apparently, near as GhoulSpawn could tell, Harvard University was buried about twenty miles below the Earth’s surface, thanks to a glacier that had broken off the Artic in around 2525 and landed on top of Massachusetts.
Sooner or later these 40th century archeologists of Quaraun’s time period would dig down deep enough and find the remains of the college where GhoulSpawn in the 1960s and 1970s had gotten his PhDs in Physics, Astrophysics, and Quantum Physics.
Neither Quaraun or BoomFuzzy, or anyone else in the 40th century for that matter, had anything even remotely close to what GhoulSpawn would call and education and he found this very frustrating, as he with all his big-brain science knowledge was seen as the know-nothing idiot, because all he knew was invisible ideas he learned in books.
GhoulSpawn knew nothing of basic survival skills. Cooking. Hunting. Gathering. Gardening. These were all things lost on him. He knew how to go to the store and buy what he needed. But here in an era when not one, but two apocalypses had occurred, stores simply no longer existed.
Quaraun and BoomFuzzy made, grew, or savaged everything they needed. Anything they could not make themselves they went with out. Candles. Soap. Ink. Paper. Cloth. Tools. Baskets, Clay pots. Bowls. Weapons. Furniture. Everything. Every single last thing they owned, they had made themselves, out of materials they had grown and harvested themselves.
GhoulSpawn marvelled at their ingenuity and survival skills. Especially considering they were both elderly and disabled. Quaraun with his crippled hands and lame leg, and BoomFuzzy being blind, should by all 20th century logic been in a nursing home being taken care of by others.
And yet, here they were day after day, chopping wood, digging for clams, hauling water, shearing sheep, and doing all sorts of endless other hard manual labour chores that even most young healthy men of the 20th century would shirk away from.
But for all their hard work, they knew nothing of logic or science or physics. They believed the Moon was a literal living goddess and built altars and chanted prayers to her. They hung ribbons in trees to keep out evil spirits. They hung glass eyes in windows to protect them. They hung crystals and mirrors in trees to keep out witches. Their endless superstitions were driving GhoulSpawn batty.
“I’m serious, Quaraun!” he continued. “Do you realize how miraculous this process is? Right here — ” He jabbed a finger at the fire. “We are witnessing a fundamental force of the universe! And no one stops to think about it! Fire, is alive!”
Quaraun tilted his head, one silver eyebrow arching elegantly.
“Alive?”
“Yes!” GhoulSpawn threw up his hands, his long Fagan-like green velvet coat flaring dramatically around him. “It consumes! It breathes! It grows! It — well, it dies, obviously, if you starve it of fuel or oxygen. But isn’t that what all living things do?”
“Die?”
“Yes!”
“BoomFuzzy died three hundred years ago and yet there he is over there sound asleep waiting for me to join him in bed while you jibber jabber my ears off.”
Quaraun’s gaze drifted to the open flap of the pink silk tent.
The soft glow of lamplight spilled over BoomFuzzy’s sleeping form, his dreadlocks spilling like a river of grey against the fur pelts. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, his purple tail curling lazily behind him.
Uncovered, naked, BoomFuzzy looked serene, his dark body strong yet relaxed, exuding an ethereal beauty that stirred Quaraun’s heart. The Elf’s fingers itched to capture this moment — every curve, every shadow — in ink or thread.
“Perfection,” he whispered to himself.
The firelight flickered across BoomFuzzy’s skin, blending with the pink silk backdrop like a dream.
“What?” GhoulSpawn asked.
Quaraun’s attention snapped back to GhoulSpawn.
“What?” Quaraun mirrored.
“Have you heard anything I said?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I was not listening,” Quaraun admitted.
“Why not?”
“I was lusting after my husband’s absolutly perfect body. He is stunningly gorgeous.”
Quaraun took another slow sip of absinthe, savouring the anise flavour on his tongue. The bronze plate of toasted pecans beside him gleamed warmly in the firelight, their rich aroma mingling with the smoky air.
Quaraun sat cross-legged in his chair, his cane resting beside him, the campfire’s warmth brushing his face. The flames danced and twisted, gold and orange licking at the night sky, while flickers of blue and green flared in its depths.
Each colour whispered inspiration, urging him to capture their vibrancy. He studied the fire’s rhythm — the way the embers pulsed, fading into red, then bursting back to life. His mind wove images of silk threads dyed to match its hues, imagining a tapestry alive with flame’s chaos.
“A fire frozen in silk,” he murmured, his lips curling in thoughtful satisfaction. He had heard nothing GhoulSpawn had said for the past several minutes. “Are you suggesting I weave a tapestry of fire to sell at the market, or are you simply rambling for the sake of hearing your own voice again?”
GhoulSpawn stopped pacing and turned to face Quaraun, his eyes wide with indignation.
“I do not ramble!”
Quaraun blinked at him.
“You are rambling right now.”
“I hypothesize,” GhoulSpawn clarified, jabbing a finger toward the Elf. “I theorize. I expand the boundaries of knowledge!”
“You, my dear friend, exhaust my patience.”
“And you fail to appreciate the grandeur of scientific discovery!” GhoulSpawn threw himself dramatically onto a log across the fire, folding his furry digitigrade legs beneath him in an oddly sheep-like manner. “Do you know how many stars are dying at this very moment? Burning their final fuel, collapsing into black holes, or — worse — supernovae that scatter their remains across the cosmos?”
Quaraun waved a gold hand languidly toward the heavens.
“I see no stars tonight, Glinta. Only mist and darkness.”
“Exactly!” GhoulSpawn leaned forward, his golden eyes gleaming. “Because light takes time to reach us! The stars we see now may already be gone. What you gaze upon is the past, Quaraun. The past!”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
Quaraun set his goblet down beside the plate of pecans, his silver hair extending to retrieve one and place it delicately into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savouring its buttery richness, before adding:
“And what do the stars think of us, I wonder?”
GhoulSpawn tilted his head, his woolly ears twitching.
“Think of us?”
“Yes.” Quaraun’s voice softened, taking on a dreamlike quality. “Do they whisper amongst themselves, wondering what lies beneath their light? Do they see our little fire, our silks, our absurdities? Or are we less than nothing to them, as ants are to kings?
Oh, flame, thy warmth my soul does weave,
In snow’s cold clasp, thou makest me breathe.
Golden fingers, in silk I’ll trace,
Dancing colours, thy light’s embrace.
Eternal muse, in thee, I find grace.”
GhoulSpawn stared at him, momentarily silenced by the Elf’s unexpected poetry.
Then he snorted.
“That’s ridiculous. Stars don’t think. They burn, they explode, the implode, they super nova, they collapse. They follow the laws of physics.”
“And yet you called them miraculous not moments ago.”
“That’s different!” GhoulSpawn waved his hands frantically. “Appreciating the grandeur of cosmic phenomena doesn’t mean they have consciousness!”
Quaraun leaned back against the soft pink cushions he’d arranged earlier, his expression unreadable. The firelight cast flickering shadows across his porcelain features, giving him an almost ethereal glow.
“Perhaps it does not matter,” he murmured. “Perhaps the only miracle is that we are here at all, rambling into the void and listening to the silence echo back.”
GhoulSpawn blinked at him again, his usual barrage of words faltering. The Sheep Demon scratched his woolly chin, his fingers snagging slightly in the dense curls.
“You know,” he said finally. “That’s… surprisingly profound. For you.”
Quaraun smirked, reaching for another pecan.
“I have my moments.”
The fire crackled softly between them, filling the silence that followed.
Beyond the pink silk tent, the forest edge loomed, its darkened trees fading into the impenetrable void of the night.
The mist curled lazily around the campsite, blending into the shadows until it seemed the world ended where the firelight could no longer reach.
GhoulSpawn leaned back against the log, his hands clasped behind his head as he gazed into the flames.
“You know,” he said after a long pause. “If I had a proper lab, I could prove to you that stars don’t think.”
Quaraun closed his eyes, resting his head against the cushions.
“I have no doubt, Glinta.”
“And you’d be fascinated by my findings, wouldn’t you?”
“Thrilled beyond measure, I am sure.”
GhoulSpawn grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the firelight.
“I knew it. You’re a closet scientist.”
Quaraun sighed, letting the warmth of the fire and the Sheep Demon’s endless chatter lull him into a strange, dreamlike calm.
“Goodnight, Glinta.”
The Sheep Demon continued to talk, undeterred, as the fire burned on, while Quaraun drifted off to sleep.
This story was written as part of NaNoWriMo 2024
(The goal is 1,667 words a day or 50k words in 30 days)
This year I used the following Daily writing prompt List:
This set includes the following stories:
Other stuff written this week, but it's non-fiction so I've not included word counts:
More Quaraun:
Looking For The Daily Drabbles?
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Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post
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The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series
🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸
Links To The Quaraun Stories Can Be Found Listed Here These Stories are cross published on: You can find even more about Quaraun novels, novellas, novelettes, short stories, poems and drabbles at these locations: | Amazon AC1 | Amazon AC2 | Blogger | DeviantArt | FB Profile | FB Page | FB Short Story Writers Group | FictionPress | Google Business | Google Developers | Gravatar | GumRoad | Instagram | Itch.io | LinkedIn | Medium | Myspace | NexusMods | Notd | OnlyFans | PayPal | Pinterest | Quora | Reddit 1 | Reddit 2 | Spoonflower | Steam | TikTok | Tumblr | Twitch | Twitter-X | Vocal | YouTube | Zazzle | Google+ | |
Copyright © [oldest articles written 1978],[website founded - 1996] –
This story is published in:
Includes the following stories:
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Index of the Quaraun novels, novellas, & short story collections on Amazon
Index of the Quaraun short stories on GumRoad
On Medium:
An Index of the more than TWO THOUSAND Quaraun Short Stories on Medium
(NOTE: a $5 or $15 per month paid subscription required to access stories on Medium)
On Vocal:
Index of the Quaraun short stories on Vocal
On Notd:
Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on Notd
On OnlyFans:
Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on OnlyFans
(NOTE: a $4.99 per month paid subscription required to access stories on OnlyFans)
Pink Necromancer Merch: On CafePress:
An Index of the Quaraun Merch on CafePress
Pink Necromancer Merch: On Zazzle:
Index of the Quaraun Merch on Zazzle