A PROCESS OF ELIMINATION
All fiction is lovely fiction to someone - no matter how repugnant you may find it.
My name is Namiin Stone, and I live in fantasy worlds full of strife and full of grief - but, they are worlds overfull with love and longing, too. A tender ache in the space where darkness and desire coalesce into the surreal and taboo.
I am an adult artist and author with a singular story that I want to tell, time and time again: a father and his daughter caught in a romance fraught with tension, with desire, with an inescapable - and sometimes supernatural - need to be together. Proclaiming mutual, irrevocable, burning love that extends far beyond the bounds of family, flying in the face of social taboos without heed for consequences.
An ancient, unfathomable Incubus with intent set fiercely on seducing and claiming the heart of the girl that summoned him. The daughter that was made from him, the lover that was made for him and him alone. A girl who thought she was abandoned, unwanted and untouchable - only to discover through loss, grief, and an inexplicable haunting that she had not been abandoned at all; she had been stolen. She wasn't untouchable; she was only meant to be touched by one and one alone.
A kindly elven carpenter on an alternate fantasy earth, risking life and limb to be with his daughter in every sense, always on the precipice of slipping and letting baser, territorial, animal instinct betray how deep their roots run together. A daughter that must weave a tangled web of lies with a suitor she has never desired, in order to protect her father's reputation and prolong arousing fatal suspicion within their community. She sure does spend a lot of time with her old man after all; what a funny thing...
A young daughter lured away in a plot to unseat a benevolent king and paint him as a tyrannical warlord to his kingdom. She was told for years that he had been terrible in his fury, so much so that the forest itself took the form of a beast and devoured him alive after too long smothered beneath the marching boots of his bloodthirsty army. With nothing but her memory of the noble and stalwart man she thought her father was, she returns to his abandoned castle years later to find what she thinks is the ancient beast that tore his heart out. Bereaved, held captive, with none but the Beast for company, she slowly realizes that the outwardly cruel monster harbors the harrowed heart of a man, and his eyes are so familiar...
It may be thought that this reflects some trauma on the part of the artist, but while we have all experienced trauma in some way, shape, or form, these are not stories about trauma. In telling these romances, I wish to soothe myself through the abstraction of art, through the nuances of narrative, and through the assertion of authenticity.
I choose to be brutally honest about what heals me, to be so terribly vulnerable about what brings me joy, and let's be frank, since we're adults - to be viscerally open about what arouses me, what breeds base carnality in me.
You get to choose whether or not you want to be a part of that.
You will find romance here, you will find erotica here, and you will find pornography here, but I must stress abstraction. These accounts are wholly fictional, these people are wholly fictional, and any and all similarities to any real person - living or dead - is an absolute coincidence.
If this disturbs, affronts, or upsets you, I have not a single apology to offer, and I am simply not the artist for you. If this intrigues you, then I'm glad you found me, and I hope you enjoy what I've set at the table. Sample anything you like, and leave a tip if you feel so inclined. ♥
If you'd like to contact me for any reason, be it to pick my brain and ask questions, discuss my work and themes, or inquire about commissions or hiring me, please send an email to Molt[email protected].