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cometkins.bsky.social
Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
@cometkins.bsky.social
3.5K followers 720 following 4.3K posts
Hi I'm a dinosaur. I'm 32 years old and a CO based artist and award winning author. Also I make the "Better Visuals" SDV Mods. He/Him. 🏳️‍⚧️ 🏳️‍🌈 🇯🇵 Links: http://cometkins.carrd.co
https://cometkins.com
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cometkins.bsky.social
Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨ @cometkins.bsky.social · Jul 27
Where to find Mercy: Books2Read.com/MercyNovel
My Website: cometkins.com
My Carrd: cometkins.carrd.co
(Mercy cover art by Soren Häxan, Zitti e Buoni and Sir Gawain cover art by me)
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
riengray.bsky.social
As a head's up, my queer horror debut led by a possessed nonbinary lesbian, LESSER HUNGERS, has several nominations for the OutWrite Scary awards!

🖤 Nonbinary Rep
🩸Body Horror
🗡️Queer Horror
📖 Best Novella

If so inclined, you can vote for it here!

docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1F...
The purple and red cover of Lesser Hungers by Rien Gray beside two complimentary blurbs.
February 12, 2026 at 4:58 PM
cometkins.bsky.social
anyway messing w gradient maps has been fun bc it really forces me to get better w values and also textural differences before the color comes in. it's fun
February 12, 2026 at 5:00 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
cometkins.bsky.social
Ey, Tití me preguntó si tengo mucha' novio' // Mucha' novio'

#vampiressmp #vampiressmpfanart #pyroscythe #pyroscythefanart
February 12, 2026 at 7:20 AM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
ceritusorbis.com
Something white
There, Azrael found the exact same things that Raijin had discovered — a complete subversion of the human body’s natural signals through highly invasive cybernetic augmentations. But she looked a little bit further. Her deep scan also revealed nanite swarms that had been dispersed throughout the Hallowed’s body, hidden within every white blood cell in its system. And it looked as though they protected it from any manner of unauthorized alteration. Even medical help was refused. Or, at least, unauthorized medical help.
February 12, 2026 at 3:58 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
sayaashrah.bsky.social
It's likely this moment will still change a bit since it's Book 3, but for now, here's a snippet of Ashrah and Nitara's reunion.

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #SayaAshrah #CaptainNitara #Ashtara
She looked at Ashrah, then. Truly looked. The alarun-stained white clothes covering most of her skin. The large hat hiding her purple eyes. The placid posture that contradicted the raging warrior who had just slaughtered an entire troop of demons. Everything so different from when they met in the Netherrealm, and Nitara allowed herself to believe that her bet had actually paid off.
February 12, 2026 at 3:55 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
zprospero.bsky.social
While Lucifer is indisposed, Virgil waits for a call in his office and finds the trinkets Lucifer has kept of himself and his family.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity
Virgil paced, and noticed that Lucifer had left his key in the trophy cabinet. He stared at it, averted his eyes, and then, pretending not to, gave in. The glass shelves inside were bathed in white light. Among the various books collected that featured The Devil were a number of trinkets. A small mason jar, in a space with little dust, contained a flickering single flame of Hellfire. Lof. A glowing golden feather. Michael. A small and fragile shed skin in a glass casket. Levi’s first. From the Garden. In a glass picture frame, a memo congratulating him on his first week. Keep up the good work. The Chairman. Virgil winced. In the most favored place, the one centered with Lucifer’s desk. Small and plain, a drink coaster. Virgil’s eyes blurred with moisture. Me. From the bar where we met. It wouldn’t hurt to say it out loud. Not here, with no one around. Not in this moment.
February 12, 2026 at 3:52 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
jaxwolffwrites.bsky.social
Meet Lord Albert de Fortier.

He's a dick.
A lithe figure dressed in a fine, gray suit came to a stop beside their table and cast a long shadow over Mick. It was hard not to live in the shadow of Lord Albert de Fortier, only son of Southwind’s second wealthiest family. Not only did he actively try to fill every room with his presence, but he seemed to glow with his own light, both inside and out. His golden hair—fashionably trimmed and perfectly coiffed as usual—reflected the sunlight while his skin, paper white and perfect, barely contained the light magic his elfin form seemed to exude every waking second of his life. He flashed a dazzling smile with his crystal blue eyes and a little too much of his perfect teeth. Everything else seemed dull when sitting next to Lord Albert. Everything else sat in pools of darkness. He was a beautiful man, Mick had to admit, but there was always something about him that didn’t quite sit right. The showy gestures. The constant light. The way his best friend’s smile turned from radiant to sickly fake the moment Lord Albert graced her line of sight.
February 12, 2026 at 3:51 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
butterflyonawheel.bsky.social
From Butterfly on a Wheel, in which Jeanette describes the cataclysmic closing track to Sigma S Star's latest album, Transit of Mercury.

#WritingPrompt
All light must converge in space To the color of time Immerse myself within the lie Of the spectrum erased “All Things Converge” is the sound of stars reduced to quark soup, terminal blueshift against the cosmic backdrop of beige. Streams of time woven back into one strand, separate beams of refracted light sent through a second prism to produce one white beam, all rivers pouring back into one great eternal sea. The spiral arms of the Andromeda Galaxy intertwine with those of our own in an embrace that reaches across a billion light-years, yet it’s all right in our corner of the universe. My shadow, my sister, we’ve only gone home
February 12, 2026 at 3:50 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
scarletvmitchell.bsky.social
Our first glimpse of Bayle, the butler. 🥰
Chapter 2 Bayle Chevaliet hummed pleasantly to himself as he set the fine silver tea service on the matching silver tray and opened the brass filigree door to the dumb-waiter. The car was gone. Again. He smacked a white-gloved hand onto the counter and glared down the passage, but the impossibly long, dark tunnel was not designed to be glared down and revealed nothing. Unfazed, he pulled his favorite rolling cart from its dock.
February 12, 2026 at 3:44 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
erdjames.bsky.social
An extract from the memorial procession following the Blight - a chance for the Kine to mourn - and to add their names to the list of those that have died since the fall of the modern world…

#writingcommunity #writingprompt
The rain holds off until we reach the village. But it is only a light rain, swirling, dancing upon the breeze. A Welsh rain. Our feet splash through puddles of brackish marsh water as we follow the road up towards the church. In spite of the worsening weather we do not enter. We do not intend to pray. Instead we head around the back of the church to a small walled garden. Here is the ancient war memorial, a stolid chunk of white marble, carved with names lost in a great war. But it is not to these names that we come to add. All around our feet are scattered hundreds and thousands of smooth flat stones gathered from rivers and streams. Each stone is etched with a name. Somebody who was lost in the ending of modernity and the hardship of the years that followed.
February 12, 2026 at 3:43 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
tanukitycho.bsky.social
Closest thing I got... that isn't too freaky out of context or that I've all ready shared.

#WritingPrompt
Sidra decided to slide over to the bar, huffing. Set would probably be making a grand show of his dominance and strength in the back. "Can I get you anything?" Someone asked almost immediately, Sidra perked up at that. Finding a moth-like standing across from her. He was tall, had long flowing greyish-white hair, his wings hung off his back dotted with black spots, then she noticed it was sitting atop a secondary pair of wings... and that he had a second set of arms. His eyes were two massive orbs with long antennas serving as eyebrows. But what she noticed more than anything else was an oddly familiar citrus smell that hit her nose. It reminded her of a drink she had once that she could rarely get at bars. She thought about it for a moment. Supposedly this place was the best of the best, maybe they had it. "You do Blue Russians?" Sidra asked half heartedly, not expecting the moth to know the drink. "I can do that, mind if I use some Sukora Blue Curaçao?" "Can I get a taste?" "ID?" Sidra took out her wallet presenting her bounty hunter license, The moth took it inspecting the ID closely. Then nodded using his lower arms to pick up a fancy bottle pouring a small bar spoon of the liquor. Sidra gave it a sniff, then drank it down, it was a powerful taste of blood orange, and bitter. "Hoo- that's different. Is it more pricey?" Sidra asked, "Just a dollar more." "And how much is my Drink, as it is now?" "Twelve dollars USD." "Jeez. But you know what, you piqued my curiosity." Handing the moth thirteen dollars. "Well Miss Sidra, it's a rare pleasure to meet a demigod." The moth noted as he began to measure the curaçao with his top arms, as his lower arms gave Sidra her ID. "I am Cloves Kaseki, I shall be your bartender." The moth introduced himself, slightly bowing as Sidra took her ID back, though she noticed his lower arms sneak a glass and put some ice in it. "Don't worry, I'll be gone soon enough. I'm just waiting for my dad to sort out some stuff with Okashi."
February 12, 2026 at 3:24 PM
cometkins.bsky.social
Share a snippet from your book/wip featuring something white 🐚🫖✉️ #WritingPrompt
February 12, 2026 at 3:17 PM
cometkins.bsky.social
Ey, Tití me preguntó si tengo mucha' novio' // Mucha' novio'

#vampiressmp #vampiressmpfanart #pyroscythe #pyroscythefanart
February 12, 2026 at 7:20 AM
cometkins.bsky.social
new knocked loose track w denzel curry sounds like getting hit in the face /pos
February 11, 2026 at 11:55 PM
cometkins.bsky.social
show us your vampire art! 🩸

vampires smp pyro brainworms in full force
February 11, 2026 at 6:53 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
butterflyonawheel.bsky.social
From Butterfly on a Wheel, in which David rescues a pair of kittens. Yes, kittens.

#WritingPrompt
[F]or a time David and I tried to be normal humans who just so happened to have a multi-platinum album out in the stores. We went to classes. We walked Widget through the quiet streets around Blue Spruce. David continued his sidewalk astronomy and did volunteer shifts at the animal shelter, gentling feral cats and fostering a seemingly endless supply of kittens. One day he came home with a pair of chocolate-brown kittens so tiny I couldn’t stand to look at them, as I was certain they couldn’t survive. David called them Famine and Pestilence until they hit six weeks and were likely not to die on us, and after that he dubbed them Tip and Mittens. Tip boasted a white tip to her tail (of course) and a white star on her chest, and she aged into the most phenomenal green eyes I’ve ever seen on a cat. Her brother, Mittens, had—well, white mittens, a white blaze, and amber-green eyes. They were half Maine Coon and it showed in Tip’s long coat, while Mittens grew into a large, lanky boy with immense paws. David channelled his very best into rearing them—patience, gentleness, persistence, focused attention—and every day he gave the kittens that best. He treated the rest of the world, sometimes including me, to his absolute worst. Short of temper and acid of tongue, he made enemies and alienated random people like he was keeping a scorecard and had a weekly quota to meet. Then he’d come home and sleep with little fluff balls on his chest and his loyal terrier at his feet.
February 11, 2026 at 3:55 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
jaxwolffwrites.bsky.social
Bee people are apparently extremely brown more than actually black and yellow. (Much like actual bees!)
They were taller than gnomes but still smaller than adult humans, and as such, they all turned their heart-shaped faces—each gray-brown, covered in a golden fuzz, and nearly featureless—up to Mick and Eleanor. Each one had massive, black eyes that stared unblinkingly at Mick as their antennae waggled at his approach. One of them wore a simple, red dress under a clean, white apron and kept their chestnut hair pulled back into a bun; Mick guessed that this was a woman. The other two wore button-downs and slacks under their aprons and kept their short, brown hair neatly combed behind their antennae. The one on the far left of the group wore a newsboy cap, his antennae flexing out of holes cut out of the front. The man in the center of the group raised one of his four, three-fingered hands in salute and buzzed a pair of brown-glass wings behind him. “Hello again!” he replied in his high-pitched voice. Mick couldn’t see where said voice was coming from; if the zizzun had a mouth, it wasn’t visible. “No, it’s not too late at all!”
February 11, 2026 at 3:51 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
beastcutter.bsky.social
From a ww1 thing i might go back to
Crossing a half-collapsed bridge, they peered down in turn into the gulley of a stream. Like an island in it were the two bloated, black bodies of horses and the wreck of the artillery carriage that had been their burden. Trapped beneath the wood and metal, moved by the brown water as if in greeting, was the pale shape of a man’s arm. A crow croaked from its perch in the white wood of a shattered tree, eyeing the men curiously as they passed. One private hurled a pebble at it. The stone hit the tree but the bird remained steadfast. ‘They are glutted on our innards’, he thought. ‘Our rage is of no matter to them.’ Soon the soil became vexed like ocean waves. Great craters pooled with water and filth. The rattle of machine gun fire and booming of artillery punctuated the air. A gloom descended even on those of their number who had remained most optimistic as the road gave way to slippery duckboard, a sluice of mud oozing from the earth as their feet pressed down upon it. Yes, it was like a wound, a great gash in the earth, complete with suppuration. Sandbags bolstered the walls, lined with patches of corrugated iron. They filed in silence past the dugouts burrowed into the edges of the communication trenches. As they marched deeper into the cut earth the groundwater rose to meet them, so by the time they reached their new company they waded through waist deep sludge.
February 11, 2026 at 3:41 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WritingPrompt from The Witch of Eden Hollow 🪾
Things aren’t looking good for Elias’ forest, but Avery still has a green thumb
The sapling was gnarled. Elias stared at it, shaken and following the grooves in the stem. There were no indicators that it would be able to sprout. “…Did I do something wrong?” Avery faltered, reaching to touch the sapling. He was quick to shake his head. “No. No, you’ve done wonderfully. See here?” He pointed to where it took root. “You created a strong foundation. That is most important.” “So, what happened?” Elias looked down at his hands. Right underneath him, the ground was hard and brittle. When he looked up, the leaves in the surrounding trees were already turning brown. “The Elder Grove is not what it used to be, Avery.” Elias’ eyes burned with threatening tears. “It is dying. That makes it difficult for new things to grow.” “Oh,” he frowned. “Is that why you are sick, Elias?” He inclined his head. “I will cease to exist once this forest can no longer thrive. I wish I knew how to stop it, but as it stands…” As Avery listened, his hands touched the gnarled sapling once more. “I’m sorry.” He was gentle with it, letting out a sad sigh. “I still think [REDACTED] would’ve liked it. Even though it’s small, it withstood the odds that were against it.” Elias’ heart melted. “I suppose so.” He smiled, watching with renewed curiosity as the sapling gradually stood.
February 11, 2026 at 3:36 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
tanukitycho.bsky.social
I always love this scene.

#WritingPrompt
Then began to stir rapidly, "Drilltooth, I need you to fetch me a grocery list of spices- I'd normally suggest mixing them into a two cups, measuring cup... but, If im gonna bring down that boar's smell. I need them here to sniff it out, and I cant have you bring one at a time incase Okashi finishes packing them soon." He explained, Drilltooth nodded. "All right. Give it to me." As soon as Drilltooth gave his confirmation, Tycho began to list a lot more spices than the squirrel expected, even giving the rabbits next to them a slight pause listening to the list. "And of course, Salt. Preferably fine ground, got it all?" "Yeah, I'll be back." Drilltooth dashed off, as Tycho continued to stir uninterrupted in his pace with the roux. He turned to the rabbits. "What?" "That seems like a lot of spice." "Believe me, you'll understand why soon enough." As the Roux finally turned a nice chocolate shade of brown, Tycho requested the bowl of onions from the rabbit, who passed it over instantly. The second the onions met the mixture of flour and oil, they began to sizzle, and release their potent scent, "Peppers need to be ready soon." He noted quietly as the kitchen started to spark to life more than their own station. The marshmallow rabbit nodded, just like the first day Tycho had came in. It was radio silent communication from now on. The rabbit slid the bowl over to Tycho. He quietly pointed to the garlic, and the rabbit nodded, as Tycho pulled the bowl beside his pot, Drilltooth had finally returned. "Got-" Drilltooth started, Tycho put a finger to his lips. Drilltooth gave a head tilt like he rolled his eyes, but it was hard to tell with how beady and solid black they were. Quietly beginning to unpack all the spices he collected from his satchel. Tycho tapped the empty bowl, to ask for it to be cleaned or a fresh clean one. Drilltooth nodded dashing off with the dirty one.
February 11, 2026 at 3:33 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
cometkins.bsky.social
wip... we're learning to use gradient maps more
February 11, 2026 at 7:13 AM
cometkins.bsky.social
Share a snippet from your book/wip featuring something brown 🦇🪵🐻 #WritingPrompt
February 11, 2026 at 3:25 PM
cometkins.bsky.social
wip... we're learning to use gradient maps more
February 11, 2026 at 7:13 AM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
kattenbarge.bsky.social
When a sitting representative refers to the Super Bowl halftime show as “pornography,” people should use that to reflect on how they and other representatives are simultaneously working to ban, censor, and restrict “pornography” and what that actually means
February 10, 2026 at 6:52 PM
Reposted by Ian Haramaki 🏳️‍⚧️✨
carmparens.bsky.social
February 10, 2026 at 3:54 PM