so i haven’t finished watching Preacher yet but there’s this one thing that really bugs me and i need to vent
in season 2 when Dennis is slowly dying, Cass asks Jesse to use the Word to heal him but he says no
then he says this fucking thing
he says “i don’t think that’s what it’s for”
and this line always pisses me off so much because what is the Word for exactly Jesse? do you know what it’s for?
everytime Jesse has used the word in the first 2 seasons, it’s always in his favor. he never uses it to do good and i don’t understand why
it’s the power of God?? you could litteraly do ANYTHING with it
you could cure patient of cancer, end wars, make everything right in the world
but what do Jesse uses it for?
he makes cops kill each other, stand on one leg or pepper-spay their balls
he makes Tulip kiss her and tells Cass to fly
he sends Eugene to hell, makes Odin believe in the Lord and inderectly makes him kill people
he never uses it for good and the one time he has a chance to make something good happen, he doesn’t
he treats the Word as a weapon to access what he wants and i don’t understand why he’s being so selfish and that really bothers me
lmao there goes my rant, i have so many things left to say like how i think the couple between Jesse and Tulip doesn’t make sense or the fact that he is really unlikable but that’s for another day
A/N - I’m rewatching Preacher and I couldn’t resist <3
Working at a bar was one way to meet people; new faces poured in every night, people of various ages, ethnicities and places but you didn’t care for the drunken rabble. A job was a job and you were there for the money.
You were on the night shift, drying glasses with a tea towel. The doors rhythmically shut with loud bangs each time someone entered or left, you’d practically drowned out the noise along with the nonsensical chatter, but it was when you heard a man loudly shout in an Irish accent, “I’m tellin’ ya, the bloody royal family are lizards! Sent to take over the wor--”, a stronger, Southern accent cut him off, “Cassidy we’ve been through this”. You curiously watched the scene play out; the Southern man was dressed in religious attire donning the white collar of a priest, the Irishman beside him was the polar opposite with tattoos inked into every patch of his skin. They were such a strange duo that you couldn’t help but be intrigued by them.
“Remember what we came here from”, the preacher messed with his sleeves while surveying the bar, his brown eyes catching your own. He offered you a small smile, (which you returned), before giving his attention to the rest of the room, “Yeah, yeah, yeah I hear ya Padre”, the Irishman was visibly disinterested, “I’ll start over there”, he nodded his head at the part of the bar which was populated with a few females. He was already off before the preacher could stop him.
You continued with your work stacking the cleaned glasses on the side when your manager nudged your arm, “See to him”. Turning, you noticed the preacher was situated at the bar waiting politely to be served, he was unlike most customers who’d of rudely shouted for service by now. For that you were grateful.
A smooth jazz melody filled played in the background as you quickly went over to the man, he looked to be in his early 30′s. You greeted him with a quick apology, “Sorry for the wait, what can I getcha?”. The preacher looked ridiculously out of place yet this didn’t seem to bother him, “Ratwater, neat. Don’t worry about it”, his accent was silky, melting like butter in your ears. You couldn’t help but smile, “Coming up”. It took less than a few minutes to get the man his order, he paid and that was the end of that...at least it should’ve been. You stood around, fiddling with this and that. The preacher didn’t seem to notice and even if he did, he was too busy drinking the Ratwater. Finally you plucked up the courage.
Trying to be coy about it, you wiped the counter down with an old rag, adding notchantly, “So what’s a preacher like you doing in a place like this?”. The black-haired man looked up from his drink, with a half smile on his lips he answered, “I’m lookin’ for God”. You couldn’t stop the giggle which escaped from your lips which made the preacher chuckle too, “You’re looking for God in a place like this? I don’t think you’ll find him here”.
He nodded in agreement, looking back at his glass with an almost solemn look despite the smile which was present, “Yeah, me neither. It was worth a shot though”. You placed the rag back under the counter and crossed your arms over your chest, “At least your friend is having fun”.
The preacher twisted so he could look over his shoulder. He saw Cassidy with his arm around two different girls, Cas nodded over at the man and carried on flirting up a storm. “He sure is”, the preacher said, “Can I get another please?”, he nudged the glass in your direction. You took it from him, “Of course”, after a brief pause you added onto the end, “Preacher”. He let out a breath in amusement, “Jesse. My name’s Jesse”. As you were filling up his glass you took up the opportunity to tell him yours, “(Y/N) and this one’s on the house”. For the first time that night Jesse felt like something was going right in his life, “Thanks (Y/N)”, he was genuinely appreciative.
The bar was especially quiet tonight meaning you didn’t have much of a job to do, Jesse was the only one at the bar too so it seemed obvious to indulge your time with him. It was harmless afterall, right? “So why you’re looking for God anyway Jesse?”.
“It’s a long story and you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you”, he responded with a reminiscent gaze in his eyes. “Well”, you dramatically looked around the bar, “I’ve got time”.
