Hello everyone! In light of the release of The Magnus Protocol (TMAGP) don’t you think it’s about time to clear out some old plot bunnies that have been collecting dust between your ears and set them free?
Well do we have the perfect event for you, please check out our Bunnies in the Archives Event, a plot bunny exchange that will allow you to drop off some ideas you’ve never managed to bring to fruition in exchange for taking home someone else’s bunny and nurturing it into a story. If you’re not a writer that’s alright, they say a picture is worth a thousand words and artists are very welcome to stop in and pick up a prompt or two for themselves as well!
An oft overlooked part of preparing for a new year is cleaning out the dust between ones own ears. Help chase out the plot bunnies that have
ok ok ok so i heard you're possibly working on tmab (yippie!!) and i have the bestest idea for when like mars is comfortable and friends with all of them (especially spencer). so like i saw this picture on pinterest and it made me think about spencer teaching mars how to play chess. cause he has this mini chess thing which he plays which i think is the perfect size for her to be able to see and play the game. anyways,,, just a thought :)))
summary: Before there were the Bastard's Bitches, the Black Sheep, the Wicked Ones, and the Red King's to worry about there was only the Bastard's Boys. Before there was a bun in the oven there was a possessive, obsessive love. There was raw emotion. There was a rowdy group of men who frequented a small, hole in wall, bar....
There was something evil behind that smirk. But there was also something needing and wanting behind those cold blue eyes.
**prequel to Guns for Hire
Chapter 1: In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep...
"How was the gym?" Damon asked, falling into the couch across from Ramsay.
"Shit. Fucked up my shoulder again." Ramsay hummed, finishing off his glass of whiskey and lighting a cigarette.
"Mm. I think you do it on purpose. Like the pain." Damon smirked, pulling a bag of marijuana from his pocket and sitting up to grab the Playboy magazine and rolling papers off the coffee table.
"It is pretty sweet. But nah, I keep hoping that maybe it will all just click again and I can beat the fuck out of Snow." Ramsay sighed, watching Damon break up a bud.
"So I was at the bar last night and that one chick was there..." Damon said rather slyly.
Ramsay tutted, rolling his eyes.
"She's pretty fuckin' hot dude. For sure not from the city. She got a mean right hook too. Should of seen her knock this big guy out. He had to be Ben's size at least." Damon said animatedly as he rolled a joint.
"You keep talkin' about this bitch like I give a fuck. I'm not going to settle down. I'm not going to get married. Perfect little Dom carries all that weight. Him and his whore ass wife. I'm just the freak show of the family. I don't have time. Father has me working my ass off. Got a mile long list of rats and trash to take out." He said, reaching forward to pour another glass of whiskey.
"Rams, get off your little high horse and stop. Like seriously. Do you ever stop and think about anything? At least come down there with me." Damon said, his smug, high grin fading into a serious frown.
He snorted, "since when did you care about my love life, Dame?"
"Since you did. I see the way you calculate every woman who speaks to you. I see the disgust. Come on man. Just give her a look over."
"Fine, fine. But if she's a fucking stupid whore, I'm going to kill her and then you."
"Bet." Damon said, leaning over the coffee table and holding his pinky out.
"Dude, how old are you again?" He asked, with the usual smirk, taking Damon's pinky in his.
"Almost twenty four. But we are forever fucking twelve, Darth Vader." Damon grinned, placing the unlit joint down, standing, and pulling his keys from his pocket.
"As you will, Iron Man." He sighed, setting his glass down and following Damon out of the apartment.
"Dude, quit messing with my shit." Damon hissed fixing his seat belt and slapping Ramsay's hand away from the radio.
"You listen to gay shit." Ramsay retorted.
"No. I listen to rad shit. You're just an angry fuck who likes to think he don't like my music." Damon quipped.
"You're lucky I like you." Ramsay huffed, crossing his arms and staring out of the window. It was a misty night. Maybe good to find someone in the alley.
"Maybe it's you who's lucky you like me." Damon laughed.
"Maybe." Ramsay smirked.
Ramsay glanced over at Damon and took him in. His wild curls and permanently glazed eyes. He felt a sudden fondness for his best friend. Or... well, guess it really was the only word Ramsay had to describe Damon. The word friend was a word that left a sour taste in his mouth.
Ramsay Bolton didn't have 'friends'. Ramsay had men that worked for him. But what were the Bastard's Boys then? They really were more than just employees to him. Though, he would never admit it. They all held a special place with him. But Damon. He was like a brother. Maybe brother was a better word than friend. The Boys weren't friends. They were family. And family was important.
But Damon was most important. Ramsay had met Damon when they were five. He was in the other kindergarten class at the school they went to. One sunny afternoon at recess Ramsay had been sitting on the swing watching a bigger kid pick on a much smaller kid. For whatever reason Ramsay had felt compelled to step in and confront the bully. It had ended in bloody noses, busted lips, black eyes, and sitting in the principal's office waiting on parents to show up.
Roose had beat Ramsay when they had gotten home. It was unjust in Ramsay's eyes. To be punished for doing the right thing. But That wasn't how Roose saw anything from Ramsay.
Ramsay had always felt like his father hated him, and he was never sure why. Even now at 24 he still had no idea. Not that it mattered anymore, but it was a haunting thought.
Ramsay had grown up in hell. It was the only way he could have described it if anyone ever asked. But they would never know. And he would never tell. No one was important enough to ever let in. No one except Damon.
Ramsay couldn't describe the affection he felt for the man sitting next to him. He hated it honestly. To have actual feelings for something. Especially when the therapists screamed he was incapable of legitimate feelings. He was a user, a manipulator, and toxic. Nah, they never said that directly, but it's what they meant. Ramsay wasn't stupid. Far opposite that. He was a fucking genius. Numbers. Numbers were his thing. Everything could make sense if he looked at it through numbers.
"Your therapist called me today." Damon said, watching Ramsay from the corner of his eye.
"Fuck that old ass bitch." Ramsay said bitterly, clenching his jaw.
"You know, if you would just..." Damon began.
'Don't you tell me what to fucking do!" Ramsay hissed.
Damon sighed, saying no more.
Today Ramsay had stormed out of the therapists office after threatening her. She was trying too hard to pry into him. It annoyed him. So what if he was mentally fucked? He was happy. Chaotically happy, maybe. But happy just the same.
He had been diagnosed with multiple behavior disorders as a kid, and it wasn't until he was 18 that he was finally diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder. But it went so much deeper than that as he was shunted between therapists. ASPD. Then it was Borderline. Then histrionic. Then narcissistic. Then Paranoid. Then Dependent. Depression. And of course the alcoholism. But he didn't care. It made absolutely no difference what kind of alcoholic psycho they called him. He wasn't going attempt to change it. There was no need. He was fine.
At least, that's what had been telling himself since he was five. Since the first time his father had beat him in a drunken fit.
Ramsay clenched his jaw and cleared his throat, lighting a cigarette.
"What we doing for Halloween, guy?" Damon asked, lighting his own cigarette.
"Dunno. Haven't thought on it. Haven't had time to think about anything, honestly. Have court that day. Maybe I can finally quit going to the fucking head shrink." Ramsay said, remembering he had to be at the courthouse at 09:00 on the 31st.
"Did Alyn tell you?"
"Tell me what?" Ramsay asked, glancing around the half empty parking lot of the bar.
"Wife left him." Damon said, climbing out of the car.
"Mm. What a shame." Ramsay said, not attempting to sound like he gave a fuck.
"Well, he's pretty down. So maybe we could do something wild on Halloween. Gives us a couple weeks to plan some shit." Damon said, pushing the door of the bar open.
Ramsay glanced around and eyes immediately fell on... her. He cleared his throat and looked away.
But it wasn't before Damon had noticed. He let a sly grin creep up his face, but said nothing as he found an empty table and sat with Ramsay.
"I'll get drinks, shall I?" He grinned at Ramsay, who waved him away dismissively. "Her name is (Y/n), by the way."
"Shut your whore mouth." Ramsay hissed, lighting another cigarette to have something to do with himself.
We understand that upon prompt release your mind may change, feel free to contact a mod if that is the case
Hello hello, we're calling all artists!
Bunnies in the Archives is opening it's doors from December 21st to January 9th.
The mandatory Discord and prompt submission form will close on January 13th.
Be sure to hop on if you're interested and spread the word to anyone you know who'd also be interested in this sort of thing.
If you'd like to participate as a writer please check out the link below
Greetings, friends! This is the moment you’ve been waiting for (part 1.)
The results of the interest check!
First thing’s first:
Over 87% of respondents replied that they were 18+, and approximately 75% of participants said they wanted to create some form of NSFW content. With these statistics in mind, we have come to the decision to make this event an 18+ event.
Apologies to any minors who were looking forward to participating, but for safety's sake, we cannot in good conscience allow participation of people under the age of 18.
Now, on to the further and less important (though no less fun) stats!
86% of respondents said they would like to write!
~40% of respondents would like to create art! And of those, 60% want to work with a writer!
95% of participants are willing to Beta at LEAST one fic! That bodes well for anyone who likes posting with a beta having done their due diligence :)
51% of people said they would like to give 2 bunnies for adoption, with the remaining 49% being pretty evenly split between 1 and 3.
32% of people are planning on writing/working on ONE prompt.
44% of people are planning on writing/working on TWO prompts.
23% of people are planning on writing/working on THREE prompts.
94% of people do not mind prompt merging!
We are planning on having the event end in APRIL.
And, finally,
The top 3 ships for which prompts will likely be given:
1. JonMartin
2. General (No Ships)
3. JonTim
More information will be forthcoming in the following weeks! Keep an eye on this page for more news.
Your stats mod (who is over the moon at the JonTim position in the ship stats)
