Blocking Your Own Shot by Arnica
May. 28th, 2012 11:10 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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calufraxStory: Blocking Your Own Shot
Author: Arnica
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 84,540
Author's Summary: Eighteen days into his suspension, Ianto tries to start putting things back together by tearing them all down first.
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/OC, Jack/Ianto/OC
Warnings: Explicit sex, language
Recced because: There are at least dozens if not hundreds of “What Ianto did during his post-Cyberwoman suspension” fics out there. This is one of the best I've read. It delves into just how seriously messed up Ianto is, and more than that, what it takes to piece him back together. The OC, Cheyenne, is gritty and flawed and mirrors many of Ianto's dysfunctions through a different lens in really interesting ways. It's not, however, a strictly character piece (though I would call it highly character-driven), and while parts are extremely steamy, it's not PWP. It's also got a solid action/adventure plot that sort of sneaks up on the reader, as it sneaks up on Ianto.
"So!" He tilts his face up to the closest camera. "This is me informing you that Torchwood can go fuck itself. You can take your retcon, your curfews, and your mandatory monitoring and shove it up your arse sideway Jack!" He shoves two fingers right up to the lens, obscuring the view with the rude gesture that he doesn't care is childish before pointing the gesture sideways across his chest. "Deuces." Lisa would have loved it and he slams the door so hard it shakes at the thought.
***
He deliberately cuts through as many blind spots as he can on his way to the club. The line is full of punks and hipsters and he skips it because the owner is a Riftugee and as far as he knows Ianto is still going to be the one doing his audit in six months. The bass is so loud it makes the spot on his arm where a hairline stress fracture healed slightly out of line ache and it pulls him onto the middle of the dance floor. 'Have fun, Jack, picking out just one more pale Welsh boy in black in the middle of a dark strobe lit club.'
Author: Arnica
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 84,540
Author's Summary: Eighteen days into his suspension, Ianto tries to start putting things back together by tearing them all down first.
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/OC, Jack/Ianto/OC
Warnings: Explicit sex, language
Recced because: There are at least dozens if not hundreds of “What Ianto did during his post-Cyberwoman suspension” fics out there. This is one of the best I've read. It delves into just how seriously messed up Ianto is, and more than that, what it takes to piece him back together. The OC, Cheyenne, is gritty and flawed and mirrors many of Ianto's dysfunctions through a different lens in really interesting ways. It's not, however, a strictly character piece (though I would call it highly character-driven), and while parts are extremely steamy, it's not PWP. It's also got a solid action/adventure plot that sort of sneaks up on the reader, as it sneaks up on Ianto.
"So!" He tilts his face up to the closest camera. "This is me informing you that Torchwood can go fuck itself. You can take your retcon, your curfews, and your mandatory monitoring and shove it up your arse sideway Jack!" He shoves two fingers right up to the lens, obscuring the view with the rude gesture that he doesn't care is childish before pointing the gesture sideways across his chest. "Deuces." Lisa would have loved it and he slams the door so hard it shakes at the thought.
***
He deliberately cuts through as many blind spots as he can on his way to the club. The line is full of punks and hipsters and he skips it because the owner is a Riftugee and as far as he knows Ianto is still going to be the one doing his audit in six months. The bass is so loud it makes the spot on his arm where a hairline stress fracture healed slightly out of line ache and it pulls him onto the middle of the dance floor. 'Have fun, Jack, picking out just one more pale Welsh boy in black in the middle of a dark strobe lit club.'
