Joy's Fic

Hi. Those of you who're fans of my SG-1 slashfic might have read the Trinity series. In that series, I introduce a few OCs.

The best (favorite of mine) is Adriann, a vampire. He's from a species, not that undead crap. I've been rewriting him in my head for a while and I'm getting ready to edit his stories.

Now, it's common for us fanfic writers to go back and edit old material, but I wanted to warn those of you who're fans of Trinity XV, when Adriann and his kin are introduced. I'm in the process of editing it and when it's done, I'll reupload the new version at AO3, where I have my fic housed.

I'll apologize ahead of time for those of you who like the Adriann stories as they are. I'm just not satisfied with the way they're written. I'll be deleting some things that are unnecessary, and it'll be tricky since following unedited chapters will have content that is out of sync with the newly edited. When you come across something that's unsynced (as of yet), say so and I'll make a note for my future editing. I'm not someone who hates being criticized (constructively).

As for WHY, well ... I'm currently STILL writing Trilogy 14 and frankly, I need to get back into the universe and mindset b/c it's not going as well as I'd like.

Adriann looked down at the unconscious young man, a flood of conflicting desires filling his mind and body. He was a beautiful human and the desire to bite, to fuck, to enthrall, was nearly overwhelming. Nearly. His long years of experience were honed to perfection and it would be easy to simply dismiss him and move on. But there was something about this young man.

He knelt on one knee and brushed the auburn brown locks from the man’s brow and studied his face. He’d glimpsed his mind, knew he was an archaeologist, a linguist, a peace-loving man, so what was he doing traveling with a military team? Exploration certainly, but that was not what they were doing here on his planet. They were searching for something. If the stunning beam, triggered due to the unexpected presence of the uninvited visitors, hadn’t done its job so quickly, Adriann would have known why they were here.

He sighed. Those conflicting desires were now forced to wait. On the other hand, he could kill this beautiful human and his companions and send them back through the portal as a warning. He could let them live and send them back. He could keep them, ensnaring them for entertainment. It’d been a while since he’d had a human from Earth.

The human stirred and Adriann froze, a frown marring his own handsome face. What to do. He placed the tip of his index finger on the center brow of the young man and closed his eyes in concentration. The young man was dreaming. The images were dark, troubling. That made sense. His mind was trying to figure out why he’d been stunned into unconsciousness.

Adriann detected worry for one of his companions and understood the meaning: the older man lying next to him was his mate. With a heavy sigh, he stood up, hating that his wisest course was to send them back through the portal. He hated complications — like interfering with another’s romantic relationship. With his abilities, he could simply take control and wipe the relationship from the young man’s mind, but coercion and mind control had never been his way.

“Too bad,” he whispered as he moved to the pedestal and pressed the glyphs. “You would have been a wonderful lay.”

A woman appeared at his side and he didn’t need to look to know his sister’s presence as she touched his mind. “You are sure? It has been a while, Adriann. We could use their blood.”

“I know. But …”

“Yes.”

“I can’t just …”

“Yes you can. You’ve done it often enough to others who’ve found their way here.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

“I could fall in love with him.”

She sighed and stooped to pick the young man up in her arms. “Stop dithering, Adriann. If you want him, I’ll take him up to the house. If you don’t, I’ll set him back down. Decide.”

The need filled his mind, coloring it with loneliness. “Go on then,” he said, and looked over his shoulder at the waiting servants. “Take the rest and make them comfortable. We shall decide later what to do with them.”

“Yes, my lord,” said one.

Adriann’s body warmed, from his belly to between his legs, and the long-absent refreshment doubled. His canines lengthened in anticipation.

**************************

So I've been suffering writer's funk for a while and thus stalled on this quantum mirror story I was trying to start. The other day, I thought up a new name for the story and created a graphic header for it, hoping this would inspire me to get the lead out of my brain and start writing a new J/D.

And then today, I discovered that I didn't make up a new word, as the title of the story: Alterverse. I discovered that others have used this word as a game title and a book title. Shit.

But I'm keeping my title, goddammit. I just hate that I didn't create the word, ya know?

Here's my header. Will change the font, and the color of the gate program screen, but otherwise, the graphic will stay as it is. Looks pretty cool, if I say so myself.

Have made this for the next chapter in my Trilogy series. May still tinker with it, but it's mostly done. The place, or planet, is the home of my version of the "Furling", and in my head, they're the ancient people who visited Ireland, the Tuatha De Danann.

The buildings shaped like teardrops are made of crystal. It's difficult to create crystal given my so-so knowledge of photoshop, so I've done what I could to make the point well enough for my own "stare at picture and woolgather the writing scenes" purposes. ;) The foreground buildings are underground access points. The gate sits atop a slab platform of crystal. The triple spiral atop it is the icon symbol of the Tuatha, and it also appears etched into hills.

Am wondering what's left to put into the graphic, but I think I've covered everything. As for what the Tuatha look like, they look human. No fur. *eyeroll* *smirk*



Feedback is welcome. *peeks thru fingers*

 

Jack scratched at his tousled hair as he reached the bedroom, two mugs of fresh coffee in hand.  His eyes instantly sought the bed and he paused at the threshold.  A heavy ache filled his chest, but instead of a negative cause, this was filled with a love he had no power over.  It spread through him like syrup, sickeningly sweet and permeable.  With it, there was a generous dose of rebellion, aimed at society, at anyone outside.

He’d always been bisexual, but over the years, he’d buried his love for men.  Not so much out of a sense of inner homophobia, but when he loved, he loved wholly.  And it had just been a matter of fact that he’d never found any man he could love that way, or that much.  Still, he knew that he carried a bit of fear within, not wanting to bridge the uncommon or unaccepted.  And really, there’d never been a man worth burning that particular bridge.

And then along came Daniel Jackson:  A quirky, selfless, enigmatic man who’d die for both him and a stranger with equal measures of idealism.  Daniel.  Handsome, aggravating, hot, sexy, irritating.  And insanely good in bed.

It had taken the SGC’s Halloween party to bring to the surface Jack’s hidden and buried desire.  All at once and with the strength of a tsunami.  Daniel had shown up at the party, and had completely taken Jack by surprise; he’d been wearing the masked costume of Zorro.  It had fit him somehow.  Zorro, a hero for the underdog, the poor, the preyed-upon.  And damn if he didn’t look good in black.

For some reason, the costume had taken away all the trappings of the SGC, of their history together, and turned Daniel into someone he’d never seen:  normal.  Let’s face it.  Daniel wasn’t normal.  His IQ notwithstanding, the man looked at life through a lateral lens.  And drove Jack crazy.  Last night, especially so.

Jack stared at the man in his bed, lying on his back, face toward him, the blanket and sheet covering him up to the abdomen.  His skin was lightly tanned, and Jack couldn’t figure out how that could be, since Daniel never seemed to have the time to be out in the sun without a shirt—or anything else.

A little heat of shyness, perhaps embarrassment, spread over Jack’s face, then body.  Images of the night before came to him, filling Jack with sense memory.  The way Daniel’s lips felt, his tongue.  Hands with long, strong fingers, which had only previously been used for emphasis and work, had touched him with surety, lust, and if Jack was honest, demanding power.

His body was strong, strong in the way he’d never thought about before.  Hips with amazing dexterity, thrusting, circling, like a dance.  Then the image of his lips over his cock, his mouth swallowing him, drawing him in, bringing him to climax with wonderful speed.  And his cock.  He tasted of warm leather, alive, pulsing, and heavy in his own hands and mouth.

But the best had been the feel of that cock inside him.  Daniel had been so careful, so maddeningly gentle.  At first.  He’d played Jack like an instrument.  The undulating rhythm, slow and delicious, then hotter, conjuring more lust and need than Jack had felt in years.  It had been so … good.

Daniel stretched then, and opened his eyes.  He caught sight of Jack, and a small turn of his lips telegraphed happiness.  And then he saw the coffee mugs and rose up on an elbow.

“I love you,” he said, eyes on the coffee.

Jack grinned and walked over, sitting down on the bed, and handing Daniel the mug.  “You mean you love the coffee,” he said, with just a touch, just a soupçon of disappointment.  He took a drink at the same time as Daniel, but then Daniel put his mug on the night stand, then took Jack’s and set it down next to his.

He pushed up a little more and reached up to frame Jack’s face with a warm, dry hand.  He stared into Jack’s eyes, communicating a lifetime full of desire and meaning and explanations.

Then he pulled Jack down to him.  “I love you,” he whispered, and with a small grin, added, “Happy Halloween,” before he made love to Jack again, filling his heart with a much deeper ache.  Strong, arduous, loving, and at times, comical.

And again, so very, very good in bed.

 

End

I've decided to use the Wordpress blog design code for my Shades of Slash fanfic side of my joysgate.com site. I'd like to have a bunch of social interaction, allowing readers to use comment forms and to save a page by simply sharing it via email, and then there's the cool indexing and search features. I have a few ideas for designs, and may end up paying for one just to get all the goodies I want.

WHAT THIS MEANS -- In a nutshell: Any links you have to my fanfic will change. :( I'm sorry, but that's gonna have to happen in order for me to get all the good stuff. While I could always keep the www.joysgate.com/fandex/story folder/story, there'll be changes to file extensions, from htm and html to php.

I'll let everyone know when the site goes live and old links will be gone.

Maybe I've always been headed to write J/D fic. Back in 1980, when I was in military school at Ft. Devens, I dated a green beret named Danny O'Neill.

Would You
31 kb | 11 pages | 4,169 words
Rating and Genre: Mature | AU, 2006-ish
Pairing: J/D, Stargate SG-1
Characters: Jack O'Neill and Daniel Jackson
Summary: A sappy first-timer love story, for discodiva76, on her birthday. :)

Msg to Pepi: Sorry, sweetie, but I may not have Internet Monday, or tomorrow for that matter, so I'm taking no chances and can't wait for your beta. ETA: Thanks, hun. Corrections made and re-uploaded. *hugs* :)


Ages and Ambushes
65 kb | 32 pages | 9,812 words
Rating and Genre: Mature | AU, 2010-ish
Pairing: Jack/Daniel, FT
Summary: For Daniel, the SGC has lost its shine. When he contemplates resigning, he finds out that Jack isn't quite ready to let him go.
Story Notes: 1. The AU nature of this story assumes that Jack remained head of the SGC after season 8. 2. Assume that Daniel's rapidly-thinking mind takes far less time to get used to an idea than the time it takes for other people. ;)
Author Note: This story doesn't have its usual multi-beta proofread(betaed -- However, please forgive any remaining errors I may have overlooked).


Last one for a while. While I'm not producing stories every few weeks or months anymore, it's a very different thing between choosing to do that and not having any choice. Now watch, I'll suddenly get writing inspiration. Better go buy me a notebook just in case.