#pastor ian

[polterwasteist]

biblically accurate Ianthony

[rey-sunshine]

He's finally here to bless the souls of all of us sinners.

This Pastor Ian had so many iterations while I was doing the color that I really don't have the process, maybe I'll post stills of it in the future.

Maybe... I'm not sure. This Ian looked so ugly at some moments that I was discouraged to keep going and procrastinated more than I should have... Sorry Ian. But despite everything I really like it. It wasn't how I (poorly) planned it at the beginning but it looks so much better that I could've ever imagine, honestly. I'm very happy.

(Future me did a decent job with the glasses, so I'm pleased.)

Hopefully anyone who sees this will like it as much as I do :)

[shriggy-the-rat-king]

Ianthony priest/demon AU because it's been on my mind since that promo was released. Yes, I'm still trying to write a fic about this but in the meantime i made art :3c

This was a bit of an experiment as it's a bit different than my usual style. I'm also trying to learn to use Clip Studio, so it was a fun exercise. Alternate version without the bi lighting under the cut!

[ianthoni]

Shayne knows the lore so well. Literally when Ian put that tablecloth down I choked on my own breath. Yes thirst about him more. Give us moreee.

[workingonit-currently]

[notthatalex]

Decided to turn this into more than a sketch :D

[lilac-hecox]

THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE.

[dixondean]

there are not enough pastor ian fics at ALL

[fantasticduckchaos]

👀👀

[smoshidiot]

this or that - father ian or food battle 2023 ian?

agoldengalaxy asked: father ian or food battle 2023 ian?

send me this or that asks!

[polterwasteist]

i found a cool pose reference so yeah

[rey-sunshine]

For anyone who is interested in the process...

So I apparently DO have the whole thing.

I got confused since I thought I changed documents but apparently I duplicated it and the process also gets saved (who knew!)

As you can see I had barely no plan on what I wanted it to look like and I figured it out along the way and just near the end the drawing came together in my mind.

My process has always been very wonky and I end up with something that is so different from what I had envisioned, whether it's the color, the style or even the perspective. I do this to myself all the time (sigh).

Hopefully I've learned my lesson for the next one...

[hipsternumbertwo]

Anthony's Funeral Roast

[lilac-hecox]

i'd love to request a little pastor ian. literally anything, you could describe him just breathing, i don't care, just any pastor ian! thank you so much <3

Pastor!Ian/Demon!Anthony - Holy War - Ianthony

--

It was strange to touch each other without one of them dying, but maybe touch was also something for the living.

Ian remembers a time when ignorance was truly bliss. It was when he first joined the church, attending his classes, working towards priesthood. It was before he knew of things bigger than himself and all he had to do was believe in God, and believe in what was right, and holy, and that through the Lord all things were possible. 

He was a sheep happy to graze in the grass those days.

It was before he knew of a war raging between heaven and hell itself. It was before he was caught squarely in the cross-fire of that war. 

Anthony, Ian’s best friend, was always attuned to the world in a frequency that Ian was not. He thought deeper, believed in things, he was open to new ideas. He was curious. He was anything but ignorant and blissful to the world around them. 

Ian can’t quite remember how it happened, but somehow Anthony had stumbled into the weavings of darkness. That evil, born of hell, had etched itself across his skin in dark marks that led like road maps across the surface of Anthony’s flesh. 

It happened in quiet places. In the dark places where Ian did not allow himself to truly see or know. Where he did not dare to follow Anthony. By the time he knew. By the time any of them realized what had happened. Anthony was no longer just Anthony. 

He had something evil inside of him, something festering and hungry, and out for destruction. His eyes a glossy, milky white, as he screamed into the night, those road maps of darkness alight with an unholy magic. 

Really, all along, Ian and Anthony were pawns in a game bigger than either one of them, but set on opposite sides. Anthony, swallowed by a darkness that overcame him. Ian believed in a righteousness that felt like his only hope and Anthony’s only salvation. 

Ian can’t remember exactly when or how they died. He just knows they died together. For most of his life, it felt like he and Anthony came into existence at the same moment, hard to remember a time before one was at the other’s side. Upon dying, it was much the same, born to know each other, destined to die together. 

The top of a hill, overlooking the village they had grown up in, the church in which Ian took his vows to the Lord, a mutual destruction took place. 

Ian remembers heat and pain and he remembers falling to his knees in the grass, clutching at Anthony’s shoulders, his touch burning the inches of Anthony’s demonized skin. When Anthony fell, it was next to him, the space between their hands thinner than a blade of the grass on the hill of their childhood home where Ian laid bleeding out. 

With his last ounce of strength Ian had clutched Anthony’s hand, the dark, inky symbol of an all-seeing eye, burning, disintegrating to give way to the tanned flesh Ian always knew. He held fast to Anthony as his eyes slipped closed, because he had a feeling even death could not split them apart if they truly tried to stay together. 

The thing about a holy war of good versus evil. It’s hard to ever really stay dead. It’s hard to say where Ian was in the in-between, but he felt warm there, and comfortable, and he knows that Anthony was there too. 

Then, they are resurrected, like the verses in old scriptures Ian had studied. One day he is awake on the same hill, in the daylight, no mortal wound spread across the expanse of his chest. Anthony is there too, the markings on his skin still etched, but faded, no longer raised and angry, like veins across his skin. 

The palm of his hand, the one Ian had held as he died, is perfectly blank. 

It was strange to touch each other without one of them dying, but maybe touch was also something for the living.

Ian tested that theory by planting a hand in the soft springy grass where their blood once mingled together and painted the ground. He feels the warm breeze of the day, and in the distance he hears birds calling, he hears children playing. 

Ian leans in and he cups Anthony’s face, and he surrenders to the knowledge of the world, and what it can be like, and feel like, and what it felt like to live and die at Anthony’s side. He clings and he kisses Anthony until their lips are numb, until they have to part to suck in deep and renewing lungfuls of air. 

Maybe their resurrection was a gift from something that took pity on them. Maybe a reversal of the damages done to war. Maybe Ian’s side won. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. Content to live in that peaceful bliss if he gets to have Anthony with him.

[lilac-hecox]

Okay, but this is absolutely Pastor Ian's theme song!!!

@lilac-hecox when Pastor Ian:

[readthephible]

smoshpvnk’s blank + posts:

anthony’s funeral roast characters edition ⚰️