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
What is the series about?
It's three god-level planet destroying alien invader Space Elf, Space Faerie, Space Demon wizards, with big global domination plans, whom have invaded 40th century Earth, settled in a lighthouse in Maine, are hellbent on destroying all Humans and taking over the planet, but never getting anything done because they are too busy throwing temper tantrums, having hissy fits, and flinging food, sea slugs, insults, and sexual tension at each other to get around to destroying the planet.
It's slice-of-life survival horror in a post-apocalyptic necromantic dictatorship, told through dysfunctional domestic intimacy between soul-stealing villains who rule the world. Welcome to the spiralling madness of Quaraun’s eldritch, sensory-heavy, character-driven, neurotic, dysfunctional, intimate, sugar-dusted Fae-punk world. This is the hostile, dystopian, necromantic, and hyper-sensory domestic horror of Quaraun’s everyday life with BoomFuzzy (and sometimes GhoulSpawn), in a grim world ruled by undead Faerie warlords where society has collapsed and survival is brutal, intimate, and corrupt, and Humans are often on the menu of UnSeelie Court feasts.
Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻
9 min read·Nov 10, 2024
The Pink Tent’s Unseen Shadows
{A Pink Necromancer Tale of Terror} — {NaNoWriMo 2024: Day 10}🦄🌸
The storm raged through the night, hammering against Quaraun’s silk-draped sanctuary, making even the velvet cushions tremble.
Outside, spruce trees groaned under torrents of rain, their branches clawing the air with the ferocity of nightmares. Thunder struck, momentarily igniting the pink tent’s walls in ghostly light. But it was the shadow outside that held Quaraun paralyzed.
At first, a barely-there sliver, thin and hungry.
Then it grew — a hand, its glassy claws dragging along the tent’s surface. It scraped and tapped, trailing down, then up, brushing against the glass lantern that swayed inside, flickering light across the spruce-framed furniture.
Each scrape grew louder.
Slower.
Fable warned of such things — spirits born from storms, creatures lurking beyond reason. Outside, the shadow coiled, inky tendrils reaching from behind the spruce trees, pressing against the tent’s walls with relentless rhythm.
Quaraun swallowed, his fingers curling tightly around his rainbow wand, a slight tremor betraying his dread.
He pressed his back into the cushions, the velvet warm and sickeningly damp, clinging to him with each breath.
Glass shattered — a crack of pure, piercing sound — then silence. The lantern flickered, its flame thinning until only darkness remained.
“Do ye smell that, Love?” BoomFuzzy’s whisper drifted from the shadows, somewhere close, yet faint, distorted.
Quaraun knew the scent well — the tang of earth and decay, sweet with an undercurrent of rot.
He closed his eyes, hoping the scent would pass, yet it lingered, thickening, soaking through the pink silk walls.
Lightning illuminated the tent, revealing not BoomFuzzy, but a gaping maw splitting the fabric, the shadow pulling itself through.
A hand — the skeletal thing clawed free of the tent wall, the fabric rippling as though alive.
“Unicorn?” Quaraun’s voice trembled.
No answer.
He had not expected one.
The thing twisted, bone scraping on silk. It pressed forward, a tangle of limbs slithering inside, thick like ink spilling into clear water, spreading, wrapping the room in murk.
Quaraun stumbled back, his leg catching on a velvet cushion, and crashed into the glass lantern.
The tent walls rippled.
A shudder ran through the spruce planks underfoot, vibrations rolling up his spine. Fable’s warnings circled his mind, old tales of storms hiding monsters in the dark, waiting for the slightest crack to seep through. And now it was here.
Another clawed hand stretched into the tent, each talon thin as splinters of glass, splintering outward.
Eyes opened within the mass of shadow, countless eyes peering from the dark, unblinking and empty, each one reflecting his own terror.
“Glinta!” Quaraun shouted, desperate. “Glinta, come here!”
But only silence returned.
BoomFuzzy’s laughter drifted, twisted by the dark, blending into the storm’s howling.
Fingers brushed Quaraun’s cheek, cold and brittle, etching an ice-cold path across his skin. He pulled back, knocking into the glass lantern, his chest heaving.
The shadow clung to him, weaving itself across his face, tightening, pulling him forward. He swatted, but his hands passed through, each desperate movement forcing the shadow to press harder, pulling at him with inescapable force.
From the spruce forest beyond, a voice — a melody, sweet and foreign.
The melody grew, a distant fable coming to life, woven with words he barely recognized, words BoomFuzzy would mutter while carving ancient spells.
“Ye shouldna run from me, wee Elf,” the voice murmured, a laugh slithering through its tone.
BoomFuzzy’s laugh.
Twisted.
Not BoomFuzzy.
Something taking his form.
The shadows closed around him.
The glass lantern swung with the storm’s rhythm, light scattering into a hundred fractured beams. Quaraun’s own reflection glared back from every surface — splintered, distorted, mocking. He backed away, but the wall behind shifted, velvet growing into his skin, binding him to the fabric.
“Ye wanted power, JellyElf. Wanted life beyond life, endless hours at me side. Well, ye got it, didn’t ye?”
“You are not my Unicorn!”
Only laughter returned.
“Unicorn, where are you?” Quaraun’s voice cracked.
The voice answered, from around him, each word piercing his ears like shards of glass.
“Inside. With ye. Forever.”
Shadows curled around his neck, velvet tight as a noose.
The glass lantern trembled, cracks splintering across its surface, bursting outward with each strike of lightning, each boom of thunder.
Quaraun writhed, trapped by invisible binds as the shadow grew solid, fingers tightening around his shoulders.
Claws digging through his robes.
Puncturing into his skin.
Another voice, a softer tremor, GhoulSpawn’s, rose through the storm.
“Quaraun?”
“Glinta!” Quaraun strained against the shadow’s hold, feeling it press, feeling its cold seep into him. “Find Unicorn!”
GhoulSpawn’s voice seemed distant, twisted by the storm.
“Quaraun, where — ”
Quaraun’s body jerked as the shadow yanked him deeper, each movement scraping against the velvet, the spruce frame groaning as though the tent itself felt his terror.
The claws coiled around him, rooting into his skin, pulling him down, embedding themselves in his flesh until every movement forced him deeper into the shadow’s grip.
His vision blurred, darkness edging closer, closer, the world narrowing to those gleaming eyes peering from the shadow, staring through his soul, ancient and endless.
With a final scream, the glass lantern shattered, shards scattering in every direction. Light burst, then died.
Quaraun gasped, feeling his own breath hitch as shadows pulled him into their depth, swallowing his form whole.
The creature surged forward, flooding the pink tent with malice, its glassy eyes shimmering in the storm-light.
Quaraun staggered back, nearly tripping over the velvet cushions as the writhing thing clawed closer, its body melding with the dark, dripping spruce walls of the tent. It twisted, every sinew snapping with eldritch purpose.
“Quaraun!” BoomFuzzy’s voice echoed from behind him, resonant as thunder, ancient as nightmare.
Shadows twisted where BoomFuzzy emerged, dark robes billowing, the blind Lich raising a crystal dagger above his head.
BoomFuzzy’s deep growl rumbled low.
“Ye’ll not be takin’ me Elf tonight, ya writhin’ wretch.”
GhoulSpawn, trembling, gripped his lantern tighter, casting a pale circle of light that exposed the creature’s hideous form — a tangle of spruce-like limbs, glassy tendrils, and hollow, bottomless eyes. He stumbled forward, stammering words half-hidden in fear.
“The fable…” Quaraun gasped. “It warned of this!”
“Quaraun — Quaraun — what… what fable even describes this?”
“An old one,” Quaraun replied, voice shaking but defiant. “Older. Deeper. One of those things that should not be.”
The beast paused, retreating slightly in the lantern’s glare, but its gaze locked onto Quaraun, its eyes swallowing the light.
BoomFuzzy snarled a binding spell, his voice booming and rich, invoking ancient words of the UnSeelie courts.
The creature’s limbs writhed under the spell, its body slowly retreating as BoomFuzzy’s words crushed it back, forcing it out of the tent and into the pouring rain.
Outside, lightning slashed the sky, illuminating a momentary vision of something vast and unfathomable sinking back into the forest’s shadowed embrace, its twisted form absorbed by spruce and night.
In seconds, it was gone, leaving only the sound of the storm, the cold press of damp air, and the scent of scorched earth.
“It tried to be you,” Quaraun said.
Quaraun slumped onto the velvet cushions, breaths shallow and quick. BoomFuzzy’s hand found his, grounding him with the warmth and weight of his touch.
“Ye’re safe, me Love.” The elder necromancer leaned close, speaking low in his ear. “It cannae return so long as I am with ya.”
GhoulSpawn remained by the tent’s edge, the glass lantern shaking in his hands.
“Was that — was it a — ?”
“Not of this world.” Quaraun’s eyes, haunted but resolute, shifted toward the dark beyond the tent, where the storm whispered like ancient voices. “But neither are we.”
A fragile calm settled over the tent, fragile and bound by spells unsaid. And outside, in the damp forest of ancient spruce, shadows stirred once more.
The storm outside faded, leaving only silence within the tent. Velvet hung still against the darkness.
The scent of spruce lingered, twisted with the sharpness of broken glass.
The End?
| ©2024 Wendy Christine Allen | All Rights Reserved |
Today’s story used this prompt:Day 10:
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] – |
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