#THE WAY JACK HOLDS ONTO IANTO

[aceofwhump]

Torchwood: Children of the Earth Day Four (3x04)

[witchofthemidlands]

I come bearing more unhinged thoughts about Jack Harkness. I always end my Torchwood rewatch with The Stolen Earth / Journey's End & i always begin it with Bad Wolf / The Parting of the Ways & whilst to me, there is an annoying lack of closure with doctor|rose|jack in the series 4 finale (rose not hounding the doctor about what happened to jack on satellite 5 is my villain origin story) i don't know if it's because i'm overthinking the angst because i've rewatched all this in order to write DW/Torchwood angst BUT Jack holding on to Ianto & Gwen in The Stolen Earth makes me ✨weevil scream✨ because he's done this before. It’s the Daleks, they killed him originally, that was his first & should’ve been permanent death & he was expecting it. He went & bravely faced his death after an emotional goodbye with his partners Rose & Nine 😭 At the time he knew Nine would probably die with him & Rose/The Bad Wolf happening was a literal miracle. It wasn’t supposed to happen, a literal one in a million chance. The ONLY available option was for Nine to either use the delta wave that would’ve killed every human & Dalek on Satellite 5 & Earth or let the Daleks take over. When Jack's realised that the Daleks have hijacked Earth, the last time he saw them they were arguably at their worst. They were like the Cybermen & were harvesting humans to turn them into Daleks, Jack watched what must have been about a hundred other humans die with him in battle, Lynda, who he'd put somewhere he assumed would be safe, was violently killed. Then they’ve got the Earth & Jack knows that Torchwood/UNIT combined probably won’t even be enough to stop them & whilst he'd faced his death heroically on Satellite 5 he knows that he won’t die, no matter what happens this time. He. Won't. Die. His usual bravado is gone. He'd been so confident so ✨Captain Jack Harkness✨ when he'd said goodbye to Rose & Nine even though he knew he'd probably never see them again & that they were all going to die but THIS time he shows that fear when holding onto Ianto & Gwen because he can only see the worst happening to them. THEN he experiences his very first death all over again when he thought that the Daleks had killed Donna, someone he’d known for less than ten minutes which is all manners of horrifying. All I can say is that it's probably a good idea Jack didn't see that Dalek invading Torchwood. It's in my personal belief that Ianto & Gwen cleaned that up before he got home. What I also like was how Jack had Ianto to go home to after Journey's End! I’ve always loved how Jack is less flirty in Journey's End because he’s in a relationship 🤩 honestly Donna is worse than him! (Donna, how DARE you push the Sarah Jane out of the way! Respect your elders!) post Journey's End I have always pictured a rather traumatised Jack being comforted by Ianto, you literally can’t change my mind on that.

[thursdayinspace]

🎁🌻📚 please!

Thank you!! <3

For the fanfic writer ask game:

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

They’re standing side by side looking out over the water. It’s a clear day, not warm but pleasant enough, and Jack thinks it could be nice without the oppressive silence.

“Where do we go from here, Jack?” Ianto asks.

Jack looks at him. It’s the first time Ianto has started a conversation on his own accord since he woke up in the TARDIS almost two days ago. “I don’t know,” Jack says. “We’ll figure it out. You and me.”

“No.” Ianto meets his eyes and Jack can’t tell at all what’s going on behind them. “That is not what I’m asking. Where do we go from here? You and me?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jack says, dread settling in his stomach.

“Torchwood is gone,” Ianto says. “Maybe we’ll rebuild it. If that’s what you want to do, I’m with you every step of the way. But what will we be?”

“You mean the new Torchwood?” Jack asks.

“Us,” Ianto says. “Not Torchwood. You and me. Because things can’t go back to the way they were before.”

“The way they were before?” Jack feels like he’s missing something important and he’s not sure he wants to understand.

Ianto sighs. “Look, we were always going to have this conversation sooner or later, and now seems as good a time as any. I almost died. I have a second chance here. I don’t wanna waste it.”

“Waste it how?”

“I want to be happy,” Ianto says. “The world is awful and horrible in our line of work, and I can’t go on without anything to hold onto.”

“I know,” Jack says. “It’s hard and it never ends. At least we have each other, right?”

Ianto shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and studies the horizon. “Do we?”

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

Once they're posted, not often. I do read them again, but I'm always afraid of finding mistakes I hadn't spotted before. I have a weird relationship with my own writing. I write the stories I want to read, and then I want to forget I wrote them so that I can read them without feeling all awkward about it.

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

That's a difficult question because 1) I haven't read all that much in this fandom yet since the livejournal days and 2) I don't want to leave anyone out. But okay, I'll go with the two longer ones I've read recently that are a bit older: this one and this one are the ones I've read last and I really enjoyed both a lot.

[toshsato]

Hug prompt 27, Gwen and Ianto?

27. piggy back hugs

thank you so much! <3 <3 also on ao3

"Gwen?" Ianto turned around and saw his partner on the ground.

They were running down an alleyway, close on the heels of another weevil, before Gwen tripped. It must have been a bad one, as she was clutching her ankle. "Shit!" she said.

Ianto turned his head to see the weevil running off. Damn it. "Are you all right?" he said, crouching down next to her.

"I'm fine. I don't think I can keep running. Did we lose it?" Gwen titled her head, peering around Ianto to try and spot the creature.

"I'm afraid so," Ianto admitted. He looked at her ankle. There was bone nearly jutting out at a weird angle. They needed to get back to the Hub.

"Sorry," said Gwen.

"Doesn't matter. Can you stand?" He stood up, offering her a hand, and she tried to use it to pull herself onto her feet, but she let out a hiss; having to lean some of her weight onto the coffee boy.

"I guess walking is out of the question."

"I can mange." She let go of Ianto and tried to take a painful step, clenching her teeth. He had to admire her persistence, even to the detriment of her own health.

"Hold onto me," he said, leaning down and turning his back towards her.

"What?" she said.

"I'll carry you back to the SUV."

"Ianto--"

"Gwen. You can't walk."

"Yes, I can."

"Well... you shouldn't. Jack will send you home early if you hurt yourself even more in the process." He looked over his shoulder at her.

She rolled her eyes fondly. "All right. All right." She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist.

Ianto held onto her legs, and then straightened himself, adjusting to the added weight. Slowly, but surely, the two made their way down the block to the parked SUV where Jack would be waiting.

Gwen pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, and then buried her face in the fabric of Ianto's waistcoat. "Thank you," she said, wrapping herself more tightly around him.

[hylianengineer]

Comfortember Day 18 : Overwhelmed

Tosh is exhausted but relentless; Jack gets her to take a break.

He gently takes the phone from her hand.

“Jack, I have to-”

“Hush,” he cuts her off.“You’re exhausted.”

“But UNIT-”

She grabs for the phone, but Jack holds it out of reach. 

“Can wait,” he says firmly.

He drops the phone into one of her desk drawers, then wraps an arm around her shoulders to guide her away from her station. He rubs circles into her arm with his thumb, and feels some of the tension leave her. Tosh has always been dedicated to her work, her file makes that abundantly clear, but since joining Torchwood, her life seems to revolve around it. Privately, Jack suspects she feels indebted to him, for saving her from a life of concrete walls and enforced solitude. But part of it might just be Tosh, and that insatiable hunger for knowledge that’s always defined her- she’s latched onto the Rift’s fountain of data as though she were starving. In a way, Jack supposes she had been. Languishing in a cell is no life for anyone, let alone a genius of Toshiko’s caliber. But even a genius needs a break once in a while.

Jack deposits her on the ragged old couch with a mug of tea in her hands and a quilt wrapped around her shoulders. He makes small talk as her mind winds down from a day of exciting discoveries and complex equations which, though no one else understands them, she finds captivating. Tosh falls asleep sitting up, and Jack takes the mug from her hands before it can fall from limp fingers onto the carpet- a much darker shade of gray than it was meant to be, stained from years of food, coffee, and bodily fluids, both human and otherwise. The tea probably wouldn’t add a new stain to the collection, but it’s better to avoid the possibility all together than leave another mess for Ianto to clean up in the morning. Easing Tosh into a more comfortable position, Jack takes care not to wake her, placing a pillow under her head and tucking the quilt tightly around her. 

[theorphaninthetardis]

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ianto doesn't question the Doctor, just scooping Sophie into his arms. He follows the Time Lady into her TARDIS. The Gallifreyan leads him through winding corridors. The Welshman would be remiss to say that he didn't want to explore the amazing ship, but follows the Doctor to the med bay.

The room is large, bright lights making the white walls and floor almost impossible to look at. There are a few medical tables, as well as many devices that Ianto can't even begin to guess the uses of. The farthest wall in the room is lined with shelves, some of then medical tools, while others seem specific for aliens.

The Doctor smiles, noticing the way the Welshman is looking around the room. She clears her throat, and Ianto snaps his head to the woman. "You can set her down here."

He snaps forward, placing the woman gently onto the chair that the Time Lord had indicated. As soon as Sophie is in the chair the Doctor moves beside her, grabbing a lot of equipment off the hook on the wall. As she moves around the room, she notices the Welshman standing awkwardly in the center of the room. "You can head back out if you want. I'm sure Graham, Yaz, and Ryan have some questions for you. I'll be out in a tic."

Ianto nods, turning out of the room. The Doctor looks over at Sophie, who smirks, although it looks more like a grimace. "What are the odds he actually makes it out of the TARDIS before you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'd say Mr. Jones' chances are better than most. The TARDIS really seems to like him."

"That's a good sign. I like him too. So, you said you could fix me up."

"I said the TARDIS could fix you up." The Doctor unwinds a a tube from her arm. She extracts a needle, fixing it to one end of the tube. She fastens the other end to a nozzle on the wall. Carefully the Time Lady rolls up Sophie's sleeve. "She's a lot better at all this medical stuff than I am." The Doctor cleans the inside of her elbow with a small wipe, and moves the needle for her arm, "This may hurt a bit, but you should fall unconscious soon. You'll be right as rain before you know it."

The woman nods, as the Gallifreyan injects the needle. The Doctor turns to leave the room. Sophie grabs her sleeve, causing the Time Lady to turn back. "Please, Doc, try to be careful. And, if at all possible, could you wait until after I'm healed to catch the alien? I'd like to meet them."

"Aw, don't worry, Jackie Lyn. Careful is my middle name," she winks. "As for catching this alien, I wouldn't dare let them leave without you getting a word in." She reaches toward the woman, placing a hand on her cheek, "Feel better, kiddo, I need my best mate fighting fit."

Sophie rolls her eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Go on, you got an alien to apprehend." She holds put her hand, her pointer and middle finger pulled away from her ring and small finger, "Live long and prosper, Doc."

The Doctor matches the hand motion, "Peace and long life, Jackie Lyn." The Time Lady quickly exits the med bay, dimming the bright lights and slowly letting the doors swing closed.

***

The Doctor exits the TARDIS to discover Ianto explaining the Rift to her companions. She smiles as the Welshman answers Graham's questions, not seeming the least bit annoyed at how basic they seem. The Time Lady claps her hands, pushing herself from her leaning position. "Right, we really must be heading to this crash site. I'm very curious as to what aliens these might be, and you know what they say, 'Curiosity killed the cat!'"

"And satisfaction brought him back," Ianto responds, almost as if it's instinctive. "The rest of the team has the Torchwood van, but that isn't our only mode of transportation."

"I swear, if you say Vortex Manipulator, I will leave, right now."

"Oh, no. Jack never lets us near his glorified watch." The Welshman leads the group into a garage like room, the lights slowly coming on as he moves. Theres and empty spot, with some different gadgets lying on the ground. Beside the empty parking spot is a small yellow car. A smile fills the Time Lady's face as she rushes at the speedster. She practically coos as she caresses the side of the car.

"Uh, Doctor," Yaz starts, "Do you need some time alone with the car?"

"Hm?" the Gallifreyan asks, spinning quickly to face her companion. "Sorry. Fam, meet Bessie, Bessie this is the fam."

The lights on the front of the car come on, and the horn honks. Ryan jumps back, nearly knocking Graham off his feet. Ianto smirks a small bit, approaching the car. "If we may, Bessie, Doctor, there is an alien crash site that could be helpful to see."

"Righto!" the Doctor say, swinging into the driver's seat. She waves Ryan, Yaz, and Graham in, while Ianto climbs in on the passenger side. Ianto, Ryan, and Yaz sit on the back bench, as Graham grabs the front seat.

Ryan glances at Yaz, "Does this thing even still run?"

The Doctor turns around, pointing a finger at her companion, "You can stay here if you want, Ryan Sinclair. Bessie is brilliant, and of course she works."

He holds up his hands in surrender, and the Time Lady faces front again, starting up the old speedster. The engine purrs as the Doctor backs out of the garage. "Where are we headed, Mr. Jones?" The Welshman rattles off an address and the Doctor smiles, "You may want to hold onto something," she says, pulling a large lever affixed to the dash. The car rockets off down the road, moving so fast you can't look around without getting ill. It takes the group less than five minutes to get to the destination, and as they exit the vehicle Ryan and Graham look a little queasy.

A bark of laughter resounds, and the group all turn to find Jack Harkness standing on the sidewalk, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets.

[agent-jones]

Ianto Jones—- a Broken Man

[thewearystoryteller]

‘Till Next Time, Ianto Jones

A Doctor Who/Torchwood Fanfiction

By, thewearystoryteller

One thousand, Seven hundred, Eighty Six

One thousand, Seven hundred, Eighty Six

The Archivist breathed out slowly, drumming it with his fingers one more time.


One- bum- thousand- bum bum- seven hundred- bum bum bum bum- eighty six- bum bum bum.

Damn, he was getting old.

“And who might you be?” A deep voice beside him shook The Archivist out of his reverie. He turned on his creaky old bar chair to face the stranger.

It was a human, taller than the Timelord by no more than enough to make him have to look up to meet his eyes. He had draped a dark blue greatcoat across the back of his stool, and it bore a captains rank on its collar. His brown hair was on the side of ‘just woke up,’ and his eyes were a haunting baby blue color that was perhaps the most beautiful thing The Archivist had seen.

The Timelord realized he had been staring. “Ianto Jones, sir.” The Archivist regained his senses, giving a sharp salute. Ianto. He’s known an Ianto once, in twenty second century Wales. Horrible man, but the Archivist had always loved the name. The Captain returned the salute. “Jack Harkness.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” The Archivist- Ianto, now- said, finishing off his drink and trying very hard to ignore how close the human was sitting.

“Trust me, the pleasures all mine.” Jack gave that smile again, and all Ianto could think was oh.

The band began to play, the pilot at the pianos fingers dancing out the beginning of a swing. The singer joined in, and eventually the trumpet picked up the melody. Ianto found himself nodding his head back and forth.

Jack stood. “May I have this dance, Mister Jones?” He asked in a teasing tone, holding out his hand. Ianto took it, following Jack onto the floor. He’d never been much of a dancer, back on Gallifey, and there hadn’t been a real chance to dance since then. But who was he to deny a handsome man a dance?

He’s not that handsome, Ianto chided his inner voice

Yes he is

The Singer began the chorus of the song just as they reached the floor.

You'd be so nice to come home to~

Jack pulled Ianto flush against him, feet expertly pulling them along. Ianto tried his best to keep up, and hoped Jack wouldn’t notice the way his two hearts beat out a crescendo against the other mans chest.


You’d be so nice, by the fire~


Others were staring, he knew, but in that moment, he couldn’t find it in him to care about humans fragile concept of love in this era. Ianto was in the here, in the now, and it felt like freedom he’d never had back home.

While the breeze on high sang a lullaby~

Jack leaned down, brushing his lips against Iantos, and one of his hearts must’ve stuttered because it felt like there was a hand in his chest and it was squeezing. He hadn’t met Jack but ten minutes ago, but his body reacted like it had known him a lifetime- lifetimes.

You'd be all that I could desire~

The rest of the song passed in a blur, Iantos head resting on Jacks shoulder as he got a hang of the footing and just focused on feeling.

You'd be so nice, you'd be paradise~

To come home to

and love~

Jack leaned down and pressed one more kiss to Iantos head before gently pulling away. By the time he had looked up, Jack had disappeared into the crowd. Ianto stood there, rooted to the spot even as the band began to play another piece and other couples began to dance around him.

“Hey, watch where youre going!” Someone bumped into him, and Ianto shook his head. He headed back to the bar, finding a note where Jacks coat had been resting.

‘Till next time, Ianto Jones,’ it read. Ianto stared at it for a few minutes, before slipping it into his pocket and slinging on his own coat.

The Archivist walked out of the bar, shaking Ianto Jones, wonderful, human Ianto Jones off and resuming the personality of a Timelord. He didn’t see Jack again that night, the cold snow helping him forget as he placed one foot in front of the other, focusing on returning to his TARDIS. To his home.

—————-

Somewhere across the city, the screech of a Type 40 who’s owner had left the breaks on broke the quiet of black out London.

There was something going on, though The Archivist didnt know it yet

It involved Jack Harkness, a Cthula warship, and a certain ‘Mr. Spock.’

There was something going on, and it was only the beginning of one long adventure.

—————-

The Archivist set the TARDIS for deep space, letting it go as it pleased. He should try traveling again sometime, The timelord thought. Maybe twenty first century Wales, after all, he did quite like Ianto, and the twenty first century was when all the fun stuff began to happen.

Jotting that down as a mental side note, the Archivist settled down on the console room bench, pulling out a small piece of paper from his breast pocket. The ink was smeared from his fingers, but still legible.

‘Till next time, Ianto Jones.’

THE END

THANKS FOR READING.

The song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZO-fdsm6Xyw

[torchwood-99]

👀

Right! Here is a long, long extract. Pretty much the entire start of a fic I will probably never finish and has been languishing in my folder for months. It is about time it sees the light of day.

Here is my attempt at a Torchwood/Hunger Games AU, featuring Mentor!Ianto and Tribute!Gwen

TW warning for references to sexual exploitation

“Your pair might have a chance this year,” Jack had whispered into Ianto’s ear the night before the departure. “The arena’s going to be nautical, sea and fish and boats. That gives your guy and gal a leg up. Half the tributes are never able to swim.”

Ianto didn’t ask how Jack knew this. The Capitol’s golden boy had a way of winkling out little tidbits, charming out snatches of information that were worth more than gold. Certainly worth more than a Victor’s dignity.

Ianto had just buried deeper into Jack’s arms and wondered how it was that despite everything, Jack could still make those moments between them special. Loving and tender and not...what it was usually like.

“Maybe I did something to please the boss,” Ianto had suggested lightly, wishing Jack hadn’t mentioned it. Jack was only trying to keep his spirits up, put some hope into him before they got onto the train. But Ianto couldn’t bear getting his hopes up. He had made that mistake in his first year, mentoring Lisa. It was Jack’s tribute who came out that year. Ianto hated Jack back then.

And Owen he hated, the District 2 wastrel who had won the Capitol over with his sharp tongue and brutal kills. Owen had spent the years since training as a physician, tending to the poorer citizens of his district, as though saving enough lives would clear the blood from his hands. Ianto had long forgiven Owen for Lisa. For Owen it was a greater trial

None of them had ever forgiven themselves for what they did in the arena, but then, Ianto wondered if he felt as much guilt as he should have. For all that it cost him, he couldn’t quite regret saving his own life. Not guilty enough to feel properly noble, to martyr himself under the weight of his shame and polish up a halo, but too guilty to move on and wake up each morning without the tang of blood in his mouth.

It was a stupid combination, if he did say so himself.

Jack’s words seemed like a cruel jape. Ianto had kept his eyes fixed on the row of twelve year old girls, where his little niece had taken her place for the first time. The weeks spent leading up the games had Ianto frantically searching his mind for a moment when he might have offended the Capitol, won himself a slap on the wrist.

It wasn’t Micah, but a much dreaded moan rippled through the crowd as the twelve year olds parted for one of their own. Emma-Louise Cowell was less shabby than most children, her printed frock not quite so ragged. Ianto doubted her family took the tesserae, but her name had been called all the same. Typical Games. Even when the odds were in your favour, you lost.

He kept his face fixed in a small, gentlemanly smile. Displaying all the manners and poise for which he was known. The baby-faced gentleman, so adored. The cooing ladies of the Capitol had won him his life, and expected payment in turn.

High on heels and looming in black satin, Yvonne Hartman, the District escort, tried to leave a round of applause, which was cut short by a scuffle in the back of the crowds. Someone trying to break through the crowds, fighting off the arms and hands holding her back.

Ianto closed his eyes and sighed inwardly. The parents, no doubt, making a desperate bid to get to their girl. He just prayed that they could be subdued before severe measures were taken. For infractions such as these, disciplinary measures were usually avoided, the Capitol taking a gentle hand for once. What greater punishment was there than watching your child butchered for sport?

The poor child was only twelve, it was only to be expected that Mum and Dad would make a grab for her.

“I volunteer as tribute!”

That, on the other hand, was less expected.

“Your girl made quite a show,” Jack drawled down the line, “Already getting some attention.”

Ianto had paused the playbacks to take Jack’s call. He was watching alone, and thankful for it, now that Jack had called, even if the kids would have been wiser for watching. Yvonne had tried to chivy the tributes into the plush lounge, to join for the replays, but they remained huddled in their rooms. For all that, the escort was in a good mood, crowing over the excitement her lady tribute had won.

Ianto looked at the paused screen. The camera had remained fixed on Miss Gwen Cooper’s face all throughout the anthem. Poor Bernie Harris, who needed to be carried onstage and vomited all over Ianto’s new dress shoes, had barely received a look in.

Gwen Cooper had to wrench herself from the grip of two boys who had futilely tried to drag her back into place. A tall lanky boy with sandy hair, and a shorter, stouter one. Agonised wails could be heard, but Miss Cooper had kept her eyes on the stage, wrenching herself free from her peers’ grips. The camera had caught her faltering slightly under the touch of the stockier boy, before her face hardened and she sent him flying back.

It was a very good shot. Vulnerable, yet strong. Even Ianto took some heart from it. It was promising she could put on a brave face, power through. And the Capitol would lap up the slightest hint of young love, and tragic romance.

She had very big eyes, doe eyes. Striking colouring with dark hair and pale skin. They had zoomed right into her face, capturing her frantic eyes and the dark strands falling over pale face. Her full red lips crying those fatal words. There were freckles and a gap in her front teeth, the type of thing an unimaginative stylist would order tidied away. Ianto made a note to inform the stylist that the gap and freckles were to be left intact. Anything that could lend her face distinction. And they made her look endearing. Innocent. If she could pull off some savage kills it would make a charming contrast. The pale skin splattered in freckles and blood.

“I think she’s got spirit,” Jack mused. “A spine. You might have a fighter on your hands”

“Right now, my fighter is sobbing in her bedroom, curled up under her duvet, not doubt crying for Mum," Ianto said dryly. “How are your tributes?”

“Careers,” Jack said in that blank, even way of his. Ianto decided to probe no further. “I have to hang up,” Jack said reluctantly, “The boss wants me working tonight.”

Ianto’s stomach dropped. He didn’t ask what sort of work, it was safer that way. There was nothing he could do for Jack, but there were two tributes who he could maybe do something for.

Bernie Harris, Ianto quickly surmised, was a no goer. Quick, not too unfit, but there was no courage in him, no grit. Ianto had given him some kindly words, assured him he would do everything he could to help him, and encouraged him to enjoy the food.

Most of his talks with his tributes ended on that note. Eat and be merry, for tomorrow you die. (The second part going unsaid, obviously. Unless his tribute was really pissing him off.)

Gwen Cooper, Ianto found himself hesitating over. On the other side of the door, he could hear whimpers and sniffles. The showing she had put on that day had eaten all her bravery. Well, Ianto thought, it is time she found some more.

He rapped his knuckles on the door, entering without invitation, and waiting politely in the entrance.

“Gwen Cooper,” he began, ever the gentleman, “I am Ianto Jones,” he said pointlessly. “I will be your mentor.”

The lump on the bed continued to sniffle, but it emerged from the duvet.

Gwen Cooper was a pretty girl. A touch awkward, all legs and arms and elbows. Her doe eyes were rimmed red, her skin puffy and hair a mess. Her green dress was charming, if shiny and grey with age, but everything suggested a young beauty in the making, if only she could live to see that day.

Ianto opened his mouth, about to spill his usual platitudes, when something made him take pause. For all that she quivered before him now, he could not forget the tilt of her chin as she came storming forward, shaking off the hands of those who loved her best.

He perched on the end of the bed, watching her curiously.

“Who was that girl to you?” he asked softly. “A relation?”

Gwen shook her head. “Just a girl I sometimes take care of,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes with her sheets.

“I see,” Ianto said with a nod. He paused, pondering his words. For all the she quivered before him, wiping her nose on her satin duvet, Ianto decided that a brave girl like her deserved better than half truths and empty reassurances. “Tell me, do you think you can kill? Take the life of an innocent, someone just as scared and alone as yourself?”

Gwen’s head jerked up, as though slapped. “I….I...?”

“You did something very high and noble when you volunteered for Emma,” Ianto said calmly. “But there is no room for such things in the Games. In the Games, you had better become an animal.”

A line creased between Gwen’s eyebrow. “An animal?” she repeated.

Ianto’s blue eyes bored into her, willing her to understand his words. To embrace them. “A creature of instinct, with the will to live embedded into every cell of your body. With no room to think of good or bad or right and wrong. Every choice, every act, has to take you one step closer to your next meal, your next hunt, your next kill. Nothing matters, nothing, but staying alive.” He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the eye. “Is this something you think you can become.”

“I don’t even like gutting the fish,” Gwen admitted ruefully. “I don’t think...I can’t..”

“Even if it means getting home?” Ianto asked curtly. “Even if it means you can walk through your back door and into your mum and dad’s arms, even if it means seeing your friends again and kissing that boy at the reaping. Even if it means getting to live every day in their company for years, instead of dying far from home, scared and in pain as millions cheer? Even then, do you think you couldn’t kill?”

Gwen gathered her knees to her chest and tucked in her chin. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

It was better than a 'No'.

Ianto stood up. “You had better decide quickly,” he said sternly. “Tidy up. Dinner is in ten minutes. I expect you to be there, we have work to do.”

[aceofwhump]

I'm absolutely *loving* all the Torchwood gifs but also holy crap does Jack go Through It. Does he ever get some comfort to go along with the violent, gasping, disorienting resurrections? (outside of all the fic i'm about to go trawl through ao3 for...)

Oh my god yes he goes through SO MUCH!!!! It's insane! That poor dude. As a whump lover I freaking love it though lol. I love the way he wakes up/resurrects so violently. The harsh gasp, jerking awake. It's so good. I wish Jack got more comfort!! I admit it has been some time since I did a full watch of Torchwood but I don't remember him getting as much comfort as I'd have like. I remember him doing a lot of comforting and taking care of his team. He does more comforting than he gets. Jack has a tendency to bottle his emotions and pretend everything is fine and doesn't really accept comfort. The one time that I can think of that I do enjoy is when Ianto holds him in 3x04 until he resurrects and then just keeps holding onto him.

It's so good.

But man I need some comforted Jack Harkness fics. Anyone have any recs for me and nonny here!? I haven't ventured into Torchwood fanfic tags yet.

[queerianto]

Staying

Summary:  Ianto knows that something must have changed when Jack returns and seeks something more than a casual relationship. For the first time, Jack wants him to stay the night - like he needs the company more than he'd like to admit. Ianto stays, and then he just keeps staying.

Notes: Hello, Torchwood fandom! You've changed a lot since I last wrote here, but you're also still the same fandom I love. (Old-schoolers may remember me as Mod Ianto from the We-Are-Torchwood tumblr family!) I hope you enjoy my take on Jack and Ianto's developing relationship after KKBB in a series of loosely interconnected chapters.

*****

Ianto was conflicted. He had been so determined to stay angry at Jack for leaving, for being gone so long and not telling them anything. But Jack hadn't even been back a full week and here Ianto was again, naked in Jack's bed in the Hub. He had agreed to go on a date, too. So much for holding a grudge.

There was something a little different this time--something in the way Jack clutched at him and pressed even closer than he ever had before. It was never just about the sex, Ianto knew that, but this had felt even less casual. Jack had been so careful. He had held onto Ianto like he was important.

Ianto stood up. Behind him, he heard Jack's breathing falter. He started picking up his clothes to get dressed.

"Wh...uh, where are you going?" Jack asked. He was still a little out of breath.

"Home?" Ianto replied. He glanced over his shoulder. Jack's expression was frozen in a smile that had started slipping away. "What?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

Keep Reading On AO3!

[violetmessages]

gwen and ianto for 31!! <333

Thank you Dina!!!! I hope u enjoy this <3333

read here on ao3

Ianto watched as Gwen looked down at her computer, distractedly chewing on her pen. Her eyes darted from side to side as she studied the contents of the file she was working on furiously. She looked close to falling asleep, but she kept on, something that was an admirable feat, considering she hadn’t slept in close to two days.

Neither had he, other than the ten minute nap he took when he fell asleep next to the coffee maker. The sad part was, he hadn’t even been surprised (or ungrateful). He reckoned that the ten minutes had given him enough to go on for a little longer than if he hadn’t taken it.

Glancing down at the data table in front of him, he watched as the numbers blurred, dancing across the page as if they were doing an elegant waltz. The nines cuddled up to the sixes, the fourteens and the sevens looked perfectly happy together, and the fives, fifteens, and ones all swung together, jigging as he had once done as a child, hand in hand, around in circles. The music that had started when they began dancing blared, the drums roared and the violins sang as if it was their last night to sing. It was so beautiful that Ianto’s eyes began to water and-

“-Ianto, Ianto wake up darling,” said Gwen, shaking his shoulder.

He jerked his head up and saw that, rather than dancing, he had inputted a long string of sevens into the data table via his forehead. He blinked sleepily, willing the world to stop being blurry, then erased the erroneous numbers.

“God what time is it?” He asked, rubbing at his poor burning eyes. “I swear it was only two-thirty when I think I must have dozed off.”

“It’s three-ish now,” Gwen responded with a small smile, eyes red with strain. “And I vote that we stop now.”

“We’ve got to finish this by-”

“-You just fell asleep. If I keep going I’m going to fall asleep. There’s no point in continuing now.” she said. “Let’s take Jack’s bed and look at it in the morning with fresh eyes.”

“Jack’s bed?”

“It's the closest,” she said promptly. “And he’s at that UNIT thing so - bed’s empty.”

“He wouldn’t mind even if he was here.” snorted Ianto. “He’d make some stupid joke about a threesome.”

“Two attractive Welsh in my bed? It must be my lucky day!” Gwen mocked Jack, putting on her horrible excuse of an American accent.

Ianto rolled his eyes.

“What a little brat,” she said. “Disrespecting your elders like that Ianto?”

“You’re the worst.” he laughed. “Come on then. Bedtime.”

He turned to tap a couple keys at Tosh’s workstation (it would always be Tosh’s in his eyes, no matter that she was no longer here to use it) and put the hub into partial lockdown, shutting off most of the lights and rerouting the rift alerts to the device in Jack’s little sleeping pit. The two of them made their way into Jack’s office, holding hands like little children. Ianto didn’t dare say anything, but he was relieved to have Gwen’s hand in his, warm and steady and comforting.

Pulling the top off the manhole, they made their way down the ladder, and into the tiny nook. Ianto hated being down in it alone, it felt like being trapped, too much like the chilly basement he’d spent his earliest days in Torchwood Three.

Gwen made a disapproving noise and he realized he’d been staring into nothing. He followed her suit, stripping off his stuffy suit and trousers, until he was standing in almost nothing. He looked at Gwen and snickered.

“Flamingo print underwear?” he laughed, looking down at her.

“Shut up,” she sputtered, shoving him. “Stop staring at my crotch and get in bed.”

“Yes ma’am,” responded Ianto, still laughing. He rolled onto the edge of the tiny cot and made room for Gwen, who snuggled up to him. Not that she had any other choice - the bed was barely big enough for just Jack.

“Can you check if Jack’s left his water bottle down there,” asked Ianto after a moment.

Gwen turned and shifted down. He could hear her rummage for a few seconds, and then she turned back to him.

“Nope,” she said, an apologetic tone in her voice.

“Wonderful.”

“Oh don’t worry,” she said, slightly sarcastically. “Gwen to the rescue.”

“Wait, no, it’s fine-” he tried to protest, but she was gone in an instant, shuttling up the ladder and she disappeared from his view. A few minutes later, she reappeared, climbing down with her big pink water bottle in her hand.

“Here you are,” she said, handing it to him. He raised it to his lips and felt the coolness of the water ease down his throat.

There they laid together, almost naked, and yet the most intimate thing Gwen had done all night was bring him water. It was odd how something so innocuous as that could be so intimate.

“Stop overthinking and go to bed,” came Gwen’s voice from behind him.

“Goodnight, Gwen,” he said, laughing, and smiled as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Goodnight, darling.”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

No/Anything Special

Prompt: So. I read your Torchwood fics, and now i want more Hurt/Comfort with Ianto and Jack. Plz?

Yes you can let's take care of these boys.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: brief allusion to jack's abandonment issues

Pairings: janto, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2339

It’s the last time Jack goes into the field when Ianto hasn’t looked over the briefing extensively.

Or, Jack's abandonment issues suddenly rear their ugly heads and Ianto's having none of it.

It’s the last time Jack goes into the field when Ianto hasn’t looked over the briefing extensively.

Ianto’s phone buzzes and Jack’s name lights up the screen.

“Captain, shall I assume the Chinese #3 is still the order of the evening?”

“Ianto?”

Tosh. Ianto curses himself for not having his comm in and switches the phone to sit in the crook of his shoulder. His fingers fly across the keyboard as he starts to bring up the location of the SUV. “What’s happening, Tosh, where’s Jack?”

“Hey, Ianto, listen. Jack’s in a not-so-good place right now.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, he just—we were walking down an alley and there was a mannequin just lying there. Then he was on the ground.”

Bollocks. “Is he alright?”

“I’m driving him back, he can’t be behind the wheel right now.”

“Pulling up your location now,” Ianto mutters, still typing away, “alright, you’re about twenty minutes out. You buy the thrift warehouse?”

“We’re at the exchange, yes.”

“Okay.” Ianto rattles off the directions as he makes his way through the Hub. “What his status?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there.”

“Okay.”

Ianto hangs up the phone and rushes outside, barreling down the stairs to the lot. His breath condenses in white puffs as he slams his fist on the button, anxiously down the alley for the SUV. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he curses. Should’ve brought a coat. Should’ve checked the traffic report.

Should’ve been there.

Ten minutes later, the SUV pulls into the garage. He catches sight of Tosh’s hair in the driver’s seat and a slumping figure in the passenger’s seat. Jack.

Owen jumps out of the backseat, Gwen in tow, both carrying something large. HE gives them a wide berth as he steps into the parking space. Tosh kills the engine. The doors unlock. She steps out and hustles to the passenger’s side. The door opens and Jack gets out. He isn’t wearing the coat. Where’s the coat? A piece of fabric tumbles out of the car and he stoops to grab it, shrugging it on despite the snow. Ianto’s heart melts.

Oh, Jack.

“Come on,” Ianto murmurs, “inside. All of us. Let’s go. This way.”

Jack opens the door and heads straight for the elevator. Tosh follows behind, shooting concerned looks at Ianto as Owen and Gwen start taking care of whatever the Rift spat out. When they reach the main bay of the Hub, they almost run smack into Jack’s back. The man stands frozen, eyes unseeing, coat still dripping with snow. Wordlessly, Ianto points the pair toward the couch, automatically taking the snowy coat and hanging it up. He fills the kettle and sets it boiling.

Tosh eases Jack onto the couch and presses a throw pillow into his arms. Then she comes toward the kitchen.

“I need to stay until he’s alright,” she says quietly, “even if I’m out of sight, I need—I need to be in the Hub.”

“Given that’s what I was going to suggest, yes, that’s alright with me.” Ianto sets the camomile tea bag in Jack’s mug and pours. He knows Jack’s going to want some of the industrial-strength coffee shortly, but for right now, he needs the tea. He sets another mug next to it. “Cup of tea?”

Tosh’s anxiety seems to fizzle, at least slightly. He can’t blame her; he’s just as on edge as she is, perhaps more. He’s just more experienced at hiding it. “Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.”

“Absolument, mon capitaine.”

Her mouth quirks. “You watch Star Trek.”

“Of course I watch Star Trek.”

Ianto grabs Jack’s mug and walks quietly over to the couch, setting it carefully down on the coffee table and taking a seat on the floor. Behind him, Tosh scurries down to the collection rooms, presumably to help and keep the others away.

He looks up at Jack’s face. His eyes look without seeing, rimmed red and swollen. His shoulders slump and his arms curl tightly around the pillow. As Ianto shifts to avoid cramping his leg, Jack’s gaze flicks to his face. He smiles.

“Hey there, sweetheart. You okay?”

He’s rewarded with a tiny almost-smile. Jack pries one of his arms off the pillow and holds out a shaking hand. He takes it carefully and scoots closer so he can hold it without either of them having to strain. He may imagine the way Jack’s eyes soften as they focus on his face, but it’s not likely.

The loud obnoxious sounds of some default ringtone make them jump. Ianto glares over Jack’s shoulder and the phone subsides, almost as if it was him that made it shut up. It should be. Jack is upset right now, no loud sudden noises allowed.

“Hey,” he calls, squeezing Jack’s hand, “it’s okay. It’s just a phone, you’re alright. Keep breathing for me, alright? There you go, good, keep going. Good.”

Distantly, he hears the muttered noises from the Hub, pushing them aside when Jack reaches for the mug. He passes it to him with a quiet: “careful, it’s hot.”

Jack settles back into the couch with a sigh, hand wrapped around the mug. He takes a slow sip. Makes a face.

“This isn’t coffee.”

“No, sweetheart, it’s tea.” Ianto almost laughs at Jack’s pout. “Remember, you need to calm down first before you have any more caffeine.”

The pout doesn’t leave entirely, but it does give. “Honey?”

“One second.” He pushes a corner of the coffee table so he can reach the drawers. Reaching in, he pulls out a bottle of honey and a spoon, setting them on the table so he can stand. “Do you want to pour or tell me when?”

“When.”

“Alright.”

“…that’s good.”

“Okay. Here, keep the spoon in, it’ll help it cool off faster.”

“Wait—“

He pauses, about to sit back down. Jack stares up at him with naked hope.

“...sit with me?”

“Of course,” he murmurs, easing himself down onto the couch. The poor thing looks like a kicked puppy, what is he supposed to do, say no? Opening his arms, he asks: “would you like hugs?”

Jack nods. He shifts closer and wraps one arm around Jack’s back, placing his head on his shoulder. His other arm couldn’t seem to decide where to sit.

“Do you want my other arm ‘round you?”

“Waist.”

“Okay.”

They sit like that on the couch for a while. Above them, Myfanwy calls out, not her normal harsh cry, but something softer. Ianto hides a smile in Jack’s suspenders. Perhaps she’s realized Jack’s upset and is trying to comfort him like she would one of her young. He can’t say he blames her. After a few moments, he feels Jack’s head butt shyly at his own and he lifts his hand to card it through his hair. The soft sounds of scratching and Jack’s breathing permeate the room.

“You can go, Yan,” Jack mumbles after another moment, “I’ll be okay. Thank Tosh for getting me home safe.”

“No.” Ianto holds him tighter. “I’ve got nowhere to be. You need someone to look after you.”

“I know.” Jack’s head lists slightly. “I just—sometimes it’s hard to remember.”

Ianto swallows the rage at the people who’ve made Jack believe he’s unwanted and rests his head against Jack’s. “Not anymore. I’m here.”

“Yeah.” He can’t see his face but whatever expression he makes sounds like he’s smiling. “I’ve got someone to look after me.”

“Damned right you do.” Ianto gives Jack’s waist a squeeze. “Would you like me to tell the others to go?”

“Yeah.”

Ianto pulls his phone from his pocket and shoots a text to the others. He barely has to wait a minute before he receives acknowledgments and hears the cars rattle off.

The garage door clicks shut. Ianto settles back into the couch, letting his head drop to rest on Jack’s shoulder. He closes her eyes, pressing himself against the back of the couch. A metallic sound makes him open his eyes.

Jack’s hands shake so bad the spoon clangs against the empty mug. A soft noise escapes Ianto’s throat unbidden as he takes the mug gently out of his hands and lets him wrap his arms tightly around Ianto’s waist. He keeps murmuring soft reassurances into his hair, even when Jack’s shoulders start to shake as he holds him.

You’re not there anymore. I’m here. I care. I’ll look after you.

After a while, Jack looks up at him, eyes tired, nose red, but smiling slightly.

“You look like you’re feeling a little better,” Ianto murmurs, tucking Jack’s hair behind his ear.

“Mm,” he hums, following the movement, “little.”

“You want me to stay here for a little longer?”

Before he can reply, a loud growl makes them both chuckle.

“Hungry?”

“Guess so.”

“Well, I would ask whether you had the patience to wait for takeout, but I’ll order your #7 first.” At Jack’s sad little puppy face, he relents. “And I’ll make some brownies because everyone needs chocolate when they’re upset. Sound alright?”

Happy puppy faces are so much better than sad ones.

He picks up the mug, making to go and refill it with water, only for Jack to whine and attempt to keep the grip on his waist.

“I’m just getting you some water, I’m not leaving.”

Jack holds on but makes to move with him.

“Oh, you don’t have to get up, I’ll bring it to you,” he says when Jack stands up. Jack just holds on and shuffles along behind him as they make their way—slowly—to the kitchen. Jack pulls out one of the stools and sits down, holding his hands out for the water. Ianto rolls his eyes fondly as he passes him the mug. “Here. Do you want me to talk while I do this or would you rather I stay quiet?”

“I don’t mind, I think I’m past the worst of it now.” Jack drinks some of the water, his voice still a little hoarse. “Thanks for asking, though.”

“Always.” Ianto takes the recipe book down, smiling fondly at the worn cover, and starts gathering the ingredients. “Would you like to talk about what happened? Or do you want me to shut up and make the damn brownies already?”

It’s so nice to make someone laugh after they’ve been really upset, especially Jack.

“No, you can ask.”

“What happened?”

“Uh, well…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Ianto assures, taking off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

“No, I want to.” And doesn’t that just fill Ianto’s chest? “I, um—those were the first things that came after Rose.”

Ah.

“I remembered the D—he told me about them,” Jack continues, each word spilling out of him like drawing out some horrible poison, “said that he knew she was—well, he didn’t say it, but I read body language and tone of voice for a living, so I know he meant to say it.”

Ianto’s hands still for a moment. “…say what, Jack?”

Jack huffs. “That she was going to be special.”

Ianto glances up just in time to see Jack hide a horrid glare.

“And I just—I don’t know, he—does he have that with all of his companions? Does he know that they’re going to be his companions? Or was she—she was special, don’t get me wrong, but was she—“

He swallows.

“…was she the only one?”

“No, that makes sense,” Ianto murmurs before Jack can apologize, “that…that makes sense.”

He tries not to smile too big when Jack looks at him with that naked hope again. “It sucks. And you’re right.” He leans on the counter. “And you aren’t. You’re special, Jack, you’re important, not because of what happened to you, but because you’re you, and if anyone tells you otherwise I’ll kill them.”

Jack chuckles. “I think you’ll have to race Owen to them.”

“No, we’ll work together. That’s much more fun.”

There’s that smile.

Since he now has a smilier Jack sitting on the other side of the counter, Ianto gets back to making the brownies. He moves around the kitchen as though it were the archives; measure, pour, put away the ingredients once he doesn’t need them anymore, mix, spray, pour, spread, slot the tray into the oven. When he turns back around, he sees Jack looking at him, smile fond.

“That’s much better.”

“I like watching you bake,” he murmurs, “it’s nice.”

“And here I thought you’d be bored.”

“I’m never bored watching you.” It’s still a touch too fond to be the normal Captain Jack Harkness swagger, but they’re getting there.

“Careful, sir, that’s harassment.” He presses the timer and turns back, hands on his hips. “Well, we’ve got twenty minutes until the brownies are done, want to cuddle until then?”

“Is that harassment?”

“No, sweetheart,” Ianto murmurs, coming back around to Jack’s side, “that’s a request.”

“Then I accept,” Jack says, letting Ianto slip his arms around him again.

The two of them move back to the couch, Jack using the arms wrapped around Ianto to almost yank him down on top of him.

“Jack,” he scolds gently, “don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t,” comes the mumble, “jus’ wan’ you close. C’mere.”

“I’m right here, you clod,” he says, letting Jack move him where he wants him, “now shh.”

“You shh.”

Ianto huffs, smiling as Jack snuggles into his side with the determination of a petulant toddler. They lie there quietly, basking in the warmth of the other. Twenty minutes later, the timer beeps.

“Alright, you want vanilla or mint ice cream with your brownie?”

“Both.”

“Will you still want takeout after if you have both?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Behave or no dessert.”

“I’m sorry, Yan, can I have my brownie now?”

“You’ll have to let go of me.”

“But you’re warm.”

“The brownies will be warmer.”

“…come right back?”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

[searching-for-arcadia]

Death Follows (short fic under the cut | cw: temporary major character death, mentions of suicide)

Jack didn’t remember the first time he saw one of those hounds hovering in the shadows, staring at him with glowing red eyes. He had had other things on his mind then and had probably wrote them (though at that point, and for a long time after, there was only ever one) off as a figment of his imagination. He would be forgiven for thinking that since they only appeared when he was injured (fatally, as he would later realize) or well on his way to drinking himself to death. These visions were unimportant compared to his confusion, grief, and anger at being stranded on a backwards planet in a backwards year.

It was only after he figured out that he was dying and not simply coming near death and miraculously recovering that he started really noticing, that more often than not, when he died outside, there was a massive shadowy hound watching.

It was never there when he woke and never appeared when he died indoors. Or at least that was true until he was captured by Alice Guppy and Emily Holroyd. There wasn’t a hound every time he died, but every once in a while, as he died to their experiments, one would appear behind Alice and Emily and hold his gaze until he succumbed to the darkness.

He became used to dying with red eyes filling his vision.

Then he began noticing the hound appearing even when he wasn’t dying. Yet. A death tended to follow quite quickly, as if the hound new it would be appearing for him soon enough. The hound was not a warning. It was a prophecy.

-

He thought he was the only one who could see the hound, but one day, when he was out on a late night retrieval with Dafydd and Elen, the hound appeared and Elen, every observant, froze and stared right at it.

“You can see it?” Jack asked, confused and also concerned. “The dog?”

“Of course.” She whispered. Jack felt, strangely, disappointed at her response. She shivered and tore her gaze away from the hound, frowning. ���We would do well to be careful. I do not think that what we are approaching is as harmless as we thought.”

Dafydd nodded. “It is never a good sign to see the gwyllgi.”

“You two should be okay. It just shows up when I’m going to die.” Jack shrugged and flashed a quick grin.

Dafydd looked sideways at Jack, a little disturbed at his glibness. Even though Elen already knew the answer (and was disturbed because the gwyllgi didn’t show up for just any kind of death), she asked, “You’ve seen one before?”

“I see it all the time.” Which wasn’t quite true; Jack was trying his best not to get killed all the time now. “Seems like it’s following me.”

“Death is following you…?”

Jack didn’t know how to respond so he just shrugged.

Dafydd, who had been staring at the hound silently, visibly shook himself. “We should keep going but Elen is right. We should be careful. We do not know that it is heralding your death, Jack. The gwyllgi could be appearing for any of us.”

Dafydd and Elen were right to be concerned. It turned out it was appearing for all of them.

-

The first time a hound appeared without Jack dying soon after, Jack started to wonder if it was attracted to him because he constantly reeked of death, wondered if he’d died enough that he was more dead than alive in the grand scheme of the universe.

The first time more than one hound appeared was soon after he hired Ianto Jones. He was unnerved, concerned about what it meant. Ianto gave no indication that he could see them (nor did the rest of the team), so he figured they were safe. After all, Dafydd and Elen had seen the hound before they walked to their deaths.

Then Suzie was revealed to be a serial killer right before killing herself. Jack figured that the hounds would disappear after that (at least until he was next fated to die); he reasoned that they had been hanging around as an omen or sign of Suzie’s actions and fate. When they didn’t (and instead continued to multiply), Jack was concerned. He felt vindicated (underneath the rage and betrayal) when the cyberwoman was revealed in the basement. This was what they were warning him of, he thought, as he shot the body that had once been Annie down.

But they didn’t disappear even then. Instead, people kept dying around him.

Perhaps Elen had been right. Death was following him.

-

Then Abaddon rose from the Rift. Then he was running for the TARDIS. Then he was told that he was too alive (not too dead, but still wrong).

-

He didn’t understand until that year.

Gwen (strong, beautiful, determined Gwen, who fought until the very end) whispered of hounds, black as night with eyes red like fresh blood, keeping watch at night (not always, but enough). Owen (brash, hurting, caring Owen, who never learned to heal himself) told Jack, while they were shackled across from each other, of hounds that led the way to safety (and sometimes even medical supplies). Tosh (lovely, brilliant, courageous Tosh, who never lost her mind) reported, with almost the same excitement she had once brought to her special projects, that the hounds seemed to know when they were needed the most (as if they had to prioritize their appearances which meant that they were bound by rules, even if she had yet to figure them out).

He didn’t understand until he gasped back to life, dangling by his wrists, with a hound lying at his feet. It rose to its paws and regarded him with its steady red gaze before rearing back onto its hind paws to rest its forelegs against Jack’s shoulders. None of the hounds had ever come this close; never close enough to touch and certainly never close enough to smell. But now—

Jack’s breath caught at its familiar scent.

[princess-of-the-worlds]

Ahhh I missed you taking drabble prompts (and feel free to ignore this if you're not anymore!!) but... Gwen and Ianto taking care of each other's injuries maybe?

Empty Chairs

Ianto hisses, gritting his teeth, as Gwen dabs the deep gouge on his arm with disinfecting wipe. “Careful,” he chides. “You could be a bit more gentle.”

Gwen stills, her eyes hardening into a glare. Her voice is angry when she speaks, “And you could stand to be a little less reckless, Ianto!”

“Someone had to distract the Malvians,” he points out, although he sounds a bit sheepish. “Or else they would have taken over Cardiff.”

“Jack,” begins Gwen, frowning, “was on his way with half of UNIT. He could have taken care of it. All we had to do was stall. Not go right ahead and rugby-tackle the lead Malvian.” She tosses the blood-stained wipe into the rubbish bin and reaches for the healing accelerant spray that was a favorite of Owen’s. “Hold still. This will sting.”

“Any more than the wipe?” he teases. “It can’t- oh, fuck!” He grimaces, flinching away as Gwen mists some of the spray directly onto his wound, but she holds him still. It burns like ants crawling under his skin. They both watch in fascination as the skin slowly begins to knit itself back together. Soon, all Ianto can feel is a slight tingle.

Gwen caps the spray and places it back in the cupboard where she found it. Ianto slips from the table he was seated at and watches her tidy the autopsy bay back together.

“I miss Owen,” Gwen whispers finally. “He should have been the one to do this to you.”

Ianto nods. “I miss Tosh. She would have hacked into the Malvian ship the moment they arrived on Earth and rerouted them for Mars.”

It’s been months since Tosh and Owen died, but their ghosts still linger in the Hub. Ianto will still find himself brewing five coffees. Gwen will venture to the autopsy bay to tease a Owen who is no longer there. Jack’s hollow gaze will travel over the empty chairs in their conference room.

There’s a gaping wound in their team, but unlike Ianto’s cut, it can’t be healed by an accelerant spray. It will take time.

“You know what?” Ianto says softly. “Jack will still be in London tonight, arguing with UNIT about their response time. You and Rhys should come over. We can watch old rugby games and break into one of his frozen lasagnas.” 

Gwen smiles melancholically, laugh lines around her eyes wrinkling for the first time in a long while. “That sounds wonderful, Ianto.”

[agent-jones]

In Defence of Gwendolyn Elizabeth Cooper

Okay, I want to start this out with a few DISCLAIMERS. First, this is probably going to be a long post, so buckle in. Second, I just want to say upfront that I DO NOT CONDONE the mistakes Gwen has made. Defending and understanding her are far different from actually condoning what she’s done and I figured I would put that blanket statement right here at the top. I know she did Bad Things. This isn’t to excuse that, it’s to explain, maybe, why she did what she did and perhaps people can gain a new perspective on Gwen Cooper in the process.

Okay. Leggo.

I asked for people to send their reasonings for not liking Gwen and I did get a few responses, so THANK YOU to those who messaged me! Everyone was very polite about it and I’m very grateful for that. The overwhelming reason people seem to hate Gwen is how she acted in regards to her relationship with RHYS. There is a lot to unpack there so I’m going to put all of the Rhys stuff in one section, and then move on to the other reasons I’ve seen about the fandom.

Rhys

Cheating on Rhys with Owen.

The thing about Torchwood is that they deal with the shittiest parts of the Universe. Suzie was right about that. Gwen came in not really knowing what she was getting herself into. Suddenly, she’s thrown into this chaotic, messy environment where she’s almost killed on basically a daily basis and she comes home from work and she can’t talk about it. She has to pretend to Rhys that she spent the day pushing paperwork, when actually the deadliest alien in the Universe tried to cut her head open with scary conversion tools and a member of their team ended up being the reason for it. She deals with trauma on a daily basis and the one person she should be able to talk to, who should be able to hold her and let her fall apart to him, isn’t allowed to know. Of course she feels isolated, wouldn’t you? Our partners are supposed to be the people we go to for support and help, but she literally cannot tell him a single thing about her life anymore. But she gets home and she has to it there and think about everything that scares her and all of the horrible things she sees, the death and destruction and tragedy, and she can’t say a single thing about it.

So, of course the idea of being with someone she can talk to is tempting, being with someone who shares her experiences and can truly empathise with her fears and help her through this new, and tragedy-filled, way of life. Why wouldn’t she want that? Owen offers it. Owen. Who knows she has a boyfriend, who literally says “I torture people in happy relationships,” comes to her and says “you can share these things with me.” And lost and unable to talk to anyone else but him, she gives into the temptation. Because, maybe this is better for her than having a partner who can’t be allowed to know the new Gwen Cooper: Torchwood Operative. Maybe she can finally have someone who will hold her and help her through things she can’t share with her boyfriend.

Flirting with/“Throwing herself at” Jack

Not going to lie, this one really bugs me when I see it. Why? Because Jack Harkness instigates pretty much every flirtation they have. The gun range scene: Jack sensually moving against her body to “show her the proper way to shoot.” Kiss Kiss Bang Bang: that cellar scene, where he caresses her arm and gives her this line about coming back for her [ after he had just said the same thing to Ianto so ]. Her wedding: the nostrovite was the one to lean in to kiss Gwen, the one to say “sometimes you meet someone who knocks your world off--” whatever the wording is. That nostrovite, using Jack, knew that he flirts with her like that, for it was the one making all of the moves. 

Jack is this enigmatic, BEAUTIFUL man who swoops into the life of Gwen Cooper, shows her that the Universe is bigger than anyone could imagine, and flirts with her, looks at her like she’s the most special human being on Earth. It’s no surprise she got a crush. It happens. But never, does she throw herself at him, in fact he always seems to be the one trying to do something, even though he also knows she has a boyfriend and consistently reminds her to keep hold of that life. Yes, she kissed him in Day One. But you know who else kissed Jack Harkness even though she had a boyfriend? Martha Jones. People make mistakes. It was the heat of the moment where Jack saved this girl that Gwen cared for and was so scared was going to die, she saw Jack act gentle and kind and yes, she made a mistake. But, it happens.

If you’re going to crucify Gwen for making very human mistakes such as this, it’s unfair to crucify her and not the men who played just as big of a role in it. They’re in no way innocent and to turn Gwen into this horrid, cheating slut and not condemn the men for knowingly throwing themselves at her despite her relationship status is really, quite frankly, sexist and a double-standard. 

Drugging Rhys

A horrible decision. Wrong. Yes, she did something incredibly invasive and absolutely not okay. She did it because she was spiraling. The thing with Owen had ended and I truly believed Gwen realised that she needed and loved Rhys, that he was the man for her and she needed to hold onto that. But, she was still holding back secrets, there were still things she couldn’t tell him. She was feeling guilty and wanted to tell Rhys the truth. But, if he left her because of it? That’s it. She loses her life outside of Torchwood, she loses the one thing keeping her grounded on Earth as the Universe tears into her at work. Of course she’s terrified and yes, it made her do something incredibly not okay. She took away Rhys’s ability to choose for himself.

She shows remorse for this, obviously, when she refuses to retcon Rhys at the end of Meat. She won’t do that to him again, won’t take away his right to know what he knows. And then again at their wedding. Jack offers them both retcon and Gwen says no, no secrets anymore. In that moment, Rhys’s face almost seemed disappointed that they weren’t going to forget that hellish day, that maybe he wanted to remember it in a way that didn’t involve aliens and their families almost being torn to shreds. But, Gwen has learned from her mistake. She won’t do it again.

Also. Gwen is not the only team member who has done something like that, in fact they all have:

Owen: took away the agency of two people by spraying them with a perfume that made them want to have sex with him. Two people who didn’t want to before they were drugged. That is date r*** and it is very bad. But, Owen is forgiven by the fandom for it. He’s loved and not bashed.

Jack: literally retcons anyone who talks to him for too long.

Tosh: dug around in the inner-most private thoughts of the people around her, invaded the deepest crevices of their minds and peered in on their secrets. This is absolutely not okay.

Ianto: clearly took advantage of and manipulated Jack in order to save Lisa. Got two innocent people killed, nearly got the entire team killed, and then allowed Jack to be given to slave traders and killed, before changing his mind and rescuing him. These are really horrible things, and yet he is the fan favourite. 

Gwen has done no more wrong than the rest of the team. This is the point of Torchwood: flawed human beings doing what they can to save the world and that “flawed” descriptor is for Gwen too. 

“She’s a Bitch”

Oh I’ve heard this one a few times and it always confuses me. She’s a bitch? When? When was Gwen ever mean to anyone? 

When she thought the thing about Tosh’s boots over jeans look being out of fashion? First, it was her private thought that Tosh had no business listening to. Second, it wasn’t thought in a mean-spirited way, she was simply making a fashion observation. We all do it. It does make us bitches to point out when things have gone out of fashion. Tosh was more of a bitch to Gwen when she found out about her and Owen in Countrycide “didn’t take you long to get your feet under the table.” That’s a bitchy and petty thing to say, but no one is calling Tosh a bitch.

Is she ever a bitch to Rhys? Not that I remember [ of course beyond the everything up there ]. But, there are moments where Rhys is a total ASS to her. Her new boss runs up to her saying there’s an emergency and that she’s needed, what does Rhys do? He screams at her “SIT THE FUCK DOWN, GWEN”  in front of her boss. That is not an okay thing to do, ever. Then, there’s the moment in Adrift when he says something like “sometimes I really hate you, Gwen.” He says this to his wife because she’s going through something very hard on her that is making her question the Universe and because it’s swaying her decision on if she wants to bring kids into the world, he says he hates her. At this point, he knows what she sees, knows what she goes through on a daily basis and doesn’t bother to take into consideration that she’s stressed and traumatised when trying to get her to make huge life decisions.

Gwen has emotions, but she’s never flat out mean to people, but there have been times where others have been cruel to her, and they aren’t hated for it.

“What she said at the end of Meat was uncalled for”

This is what she says:

GWEN: But none of you have any partners outside of this. JACK: But we understand how you feel. GWEN: No, you don't. No, you don't, Jack. You all think it's cold and lonely out there. But it isn't for me because I have him. 

She isn’t wrong. She doesn’t say anything cruel about the team. She points out the fact that they can’t understand what it’s like to have to hide her ENTIRE life from her partner. Jack and Ianto have a relationship, they’re partners yes, but they can actually talk about how hard the job is, they can talk about Torchwood and the shit they see and how it affects them. Is it so wrong for Gwen to say they can’t understand how she feels that she can’t? The entire team apart from her have been so entwined with Torchwood for so long that they don’t have lives outside of it, and that’s what she’s saying and she’s not wrong. Why hate her for pointing out the truth because she wants to be able to talk to the person she loves about the harder parts of her life?

“She acts superior to the team”

This one I see a lot. That people seem to think she somehow acts like she’s better than them, that she acts righteous somehow. But, that’s not what she’s doing. I’ve made a post about this before, but I’ll sum it up here. Jack hired Gwen because he needed someone with a new perspective, someone who could see how what they do affects civilians and help them use that to work better. He brought her in to remind them that they need to do better by the people of Cardiff. 

And that’s what she does,

She calls them out for being callous about Carys because that’s what Jack hired her for. The girl was dying and to her, it seemed like they didn’t care and so she spoke up, like Jack had asked her to do. She realises that she’s wrong in a way and she adjusts how she goes about it. Jack consistently reminds her why she was brought on, to call them out when they needed it and to remind them that there are human beings that are affected by what they do and they should care. And then when she does that, the fandom hates her for it. Don’t hate her for doing the job she was brought in to do.

Her Miracle Day speech

The Gwen in Miracle Day is not the same Gwen who peered over that parking garage barrier to spy on Torchwood. She saw the worst of the Universe, she watched as so many people died around her. Her friends all died horrific deaths. She was yanked by Jack into this whirlwind of a life, into the chaos and destruction that was Torchwood-- and then he left her. 

GWEN: Are you ever coming back, Jack? JACK: What for? GWEN: Me. 

He says nothing and leaves anyway. She begged her best friend to not leave her, after the last of her friends was killed, and he basically said she wasn’t worth staying for. How could she not be broken after that? As two people very close to me have said [ credit to @cxptained​ and @agent-sato​ ]: everyone else on the team was brought into Torchwood already broken, Torchwood took them in and put them back together again. Gwen came into Torchwood whole. She had a life and was happy. She lived, but she was SHATTERED. Torchwood took her and broke her. 

So yes, she says something that is horrible. She says that when everyone else died and she survived, she felt better than them. But sometimes we have thoughts that we don’t control, we have thoughts that we know are wrong. She knows it’s wrong. Eve’s acting? You can tell that she had those thoughts and that she felt horrible for having them.

Not to mention, she says this as she’s trying to get her baby daughter back from strangers who have kidnapped her. She’s desperate and terrified and angry and her daughter is in danger. Her mental space is horrible right now. She was abandoned by Jack, broken by Torchwood and when he appears again and she’s dragged back in? Her daughter is put in danger. But she also missed Torchwood and Jack. She’s terrified and lost and conflicted and she said something bad. But she knows she is wrong.

And So...

Gwen Cooper is a human being. She is a character in a show where ALL of the main characters are written to be flawed and complicated and to make mistakes while saving the world. She was put through so much and it seems as though she’s blamed for the fact that it changed her and led her to making decisions she may not have made had Torchwood not dragged her in.

She deserves more than how she’s treated by the fans.