Ficlet: God Of Coffee
Apr. 24th, 2026 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knittedTitle: God Of Coffee
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 645
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Purely by accident, Ianto Jones’ reputation for making coffee has spread throughout the universe.
Written For:
dragonofeternal’s prompt ‘any, any, accidental cult acquisition,’ at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
threesentenceficathon.Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
As everyone who’d ever met him probably knew, Ianto Jones made coffee. In fact, he LIKED making coffee, mostly because he liked drinking good coffee, and good coffee wasn’t as easy to find as most people thought. Then again, in Ianto’s considered opinion, most people wouldn’t know good coffee if it bit them on the arse, so he’d learned to make it himself, to protect his tastebuds, and he’d become very good at it indeed. Good enough that he’d tried to bribe his way into Torchwood Three with it, although to his surprise, that approach hadn’t worked. Still, the Pterodactyl had, so the unexpected failure on the part of his coffee, disturbing though that had been at the time, hadn’t been the end of the world.
Anyway, making coffee wasn’t strictly speaking his job, it just constituted one small but highly important aspect of it, because without access to a regular supply of caffeinated beverages, the Cardiff branch of the Torchwood Institute would grind to a halt, completely unable to function due to catastrophic caffeine withdrawal. The entire team ran on coffee, including, it had to be said, Ianto himself. As addictions went, it was certainly not the worst.
Despite the making and distribution of coffee being something of a voluntary sideline among his more official duties, Ianto took the task seriously, just as he did with all aspects of his job. If something was worth doing, it was worth doing well, so he always brewed the team’s favourite drinks to the best of his considerable ability.
He handed out mugs of his coffee not only to the team, but to the occasional visitor, anyone whose assistance Torchwood required, although of course that was laced with a good dose of retcon, and any aliens they encountered who weren’t likely to die from a caffeine allergy. It was good for alien-human relations, proof that the people of earth had something to offer their more technologically advanced neighbours.
Thus it was that the legend of Ianto Jones’ sublime coffee spread far and wide, out into the wider universe, until, quite unbeknown to him, a cult was formed. The members, who were of many races and came from many planets, worshipped not just the coffee itself but also the supreme God of coffee, Yantow Jowens - because any knowledge that spread so far by word of mouth was bound to get a bit muddled up somewhere along the line. That was unavoidable.
Ianto knew nothing of all this until the day a contingent of worshippers showed up at the tourist office. They filled the small room, a tide of awed alien faces representing at least a dozen different races, but despite their many physiological differences, they all had one thing in common.
Standing before the great one himself, they bowed respectfully and most humbly asked him to bless their beans, which they had, of course, brought with them… And Ianto being who he was, and having the greatest respect himself for the beans that produced the finest beverage anywhere in the known universe, and probably the unknown universe as well, quite naturally did as requested, coming up with suitable blessings on the spot. Because as the universally acknowledged God of coffee, he accepted that he had a responsibility, not only towards the many varieties of coffee beans, but to his worshippers as well.
Being a god of any description was something of a burden, especially on top of all his other duties, but it came with certain obligations, and since these people considered him worthy of godhood, it was only fair that he should act in a way that justified their trust in him.
If he was to be the God of coffee, he was going to be the best he possibly could be. His reputation, not to mention the popularity of his favourite beverage, was at stake.
The End
Anyway, making coffee wasn’t strictly speaking his job, it just constituted one small but highly important aspect of it, because without access to a regular supply of caffeinated beverages, the Cardiff branch of the Torchwood Institute would grind to a halt, completely unable to function due to catastrophic caffeine withdrawal. The entire team ran on coffee, including, it had to be said, Ianto himself. As addictions went, it was certainly not the worst.
Despite the making and distribution of coffee being something of a voluntary sideline among his more official duties, Ianto took the task seriously, just as he did with all aspects of his job. If something was worth doing, it was worth doing well, so he always brewed the team’s favourite drinks to the best of his considerable ability.
He handed out mugs of his coffee not only to the team, but to the occasional visitor, anyone whose assistance Torchwood required, although of course that was laced with a good dose of retcon, and any aliens they encountered who weren’t likely to die from a caffeine allergy. It was good for alien-human relations, proof that the people of earth had something to offer their more technologically advanced neighbours.
Thus it was that the legend of Ianto Jones’ sublime coffee spread far and wide, out into the wider universe, until, quite unbeknown to him, a cult was formed. The members, who were of many races and came from many planets, worshipped not just the coffee itself but also the supreme God of coffee, Yantow Jowens - because any knowledge that spread so far by word of mouth was bound to get a bit muddled up somewhere along the line. That was unavoidable.
Ianto knew nothing of all this until the day a contingent of worshippers showed up at the tourist office. They filled the small room, a tide of awed alien faces representing at least a dozen different races, but despite their many physiological differences, they all had one thing in common.
Standing before the great one himself, they bowed respectfully and most humbly asked him to bless their beans, which they had, of course, brought with them… And Ianto being who he was, and having the greatest respect himself for the beans that produced the finest beverage anywhere in the known universe, and probably the unknown universe as well, quite naturally did as requested, coming up with suitable blessings on the spot. Because as the universally acknowledged God of coffee, he accepted that he had a responsibility, not only towards the many varieties of coffee beans, but to his worshippers as well.
Being a god of any description was something of a burden, especially on top of all his other duties, but it came with certain obligations, and since these people considered him worthy of godhood, it was only fair that he should act in a way that justified their trust in him.
If he was to be the God of coffee, he was going to be the best he possibly could be. His reputation, not to mention the popularity of his favourite beverage, was at stake.
The End
