This is old but it's sort of related to my post about pregnancy being a part of religion.
A priest in the remote mountaintops, who doesn't serve a specific town or village per say, but a very sparsely populated region. There's been an abnormally high amount of demonic activity in the area for several years now, and his messages requesting assistance from the clergy in the larger towns and cities have been met with false platitudes at best.
He's getting older and he's had no luck in recruiting a trainee and successor in his state. The people of the mountains, though grateful for all he's done for them, are suspicious and reluctant to take the same fate and duty on themselves.
Always gravid with multiple exorcised demons, being remade and reformed by his holy vessel, it's exceedingly difficult to navigate the windy and often narrow mountain passes to answer calls for help. But it is rare for him to turn down the pleas of his people, even though it makes his life (and journey back home) more and more difficult each time it happens.
It's not uncommon for him to have managed to get down to a more reasonable size, answer a call for help, get stopped in passing by other folk along the journey there and back, and return home over 3x the size than when he started the trip. There have been a few times when he's overestimated his abilities and is left unable to make the journey home. His parishioners have no problem rallying to assist their priest, to get him to his home and church so that he may wait to labor and birth, whether by wagon, cart, mule, or leaning on the strongest among them for support.
When the time finally comes to give birth, under his church there is a pool, with candles in the many alcoves, only lit when he feels his time nearing. It is a ritual made more difficult by the squirming brood in his hallowed womb, all in different stages of renewal, as the contractions squeeze away what little space is left. As the only priest of his church, he does this alone, with only the candles to hear his cries and groans. The relieving waters of the pool his midwife and the knotted silks hung from the low ceiling his only hand to hold through the hours of sacred labor.
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may i have some smallidarity art? i am incredibly normal about them :3
you can have this drawing i was experimenting on :D its kinda very messy but THANK YOU SOLDIER o7
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