“Do you suppose the Pokemon recognize Arceus’s involvement in this?” Ingo asked one evening, trapped under an insistent Galvantula. He hadn’t intended to lay down in the first place, but a dizzying spate of nausea had forced him immobile for a good twenty minutes, and the spider had decided she was going to make the most of the opportunity it presented.

She was taking great pains to nestle in without putting any of her weight on the very shallow curve of his abdomen, and he had both hands sunk into the fur on either side of her face, scratching an idle but consistent rhythm. “I had never expected any of them to become so invested, but if they could recognize a legendary Pokemon’s influence, that would explain a great deal.”

Emmet paused in trying to coax Excadrill out from behind the entertainment center and hummed before resuming.

“No.” He said after a minute, arms full of mole as he strode by, “I don’t think so.”

“Really?” Surprised, Ingo pulled one arm back to prop himself up, just enough to see without dislodging Galvantula, “What makes you say that?”

Still visible as he set the ground type down on one of the kitchen chairs-- never quite dropping a warning sort of contact-- Emmet gave a sharp whistle and waited for Chandelure to respond. “It took us a week to learn about Arceus. Why would they know about it?”

Chandelure floated out after a moment, and, upon realizing what was being asked of her, jingled apologetically before psychically binding the mole in place. Excadrill struggled at first, but only for a few seconds before resigning herself to her fate.

“That’s not quite what I meant; I agree that they have little reason to care for the specifics of ‘Almighty Sinnoh’ the deity of creation. Isn’t it possible, though, that there might be something we, as humans, are unable to discern marking its child?” Guiltily, Ingo laid back down and broke the line of sight between Excadrill and himself, hiding from her pleading look-- and also because the angle was beginning to make his head swim again. He returned his hand to Galvantula’s head in some maladjusted form of penance.

Excadrill was the one who’d gotten into the mineral spirits. It was only fair that she face the consequences of her actions.

“Yup. It’s possible. But I don’t believe that’s it.”

In the reflection of their TV he watched Emmet apply a soapy washcloth to Excadrill’s claws, starting with the part most likely to spread the solvent over the rest of the chair and herself. “Then what do you believe is going on?”

The white shape shrugged. “Nothing is going on. They love you. That’s all.”

Well, yes. He’d never had reason to doubt that, though, and was a bit puzzled at how they’d arrived at this particular station, given their starting point.

“That was never in question, but Galvantula’s behavior suggests that I’m not the point of interest tonight.” The spider herself vibrated her contentment, all six eyes closed as she soaked the attention up.

Excadrill tossed her head, throwing minor a fit at being washed, and he saw Emmet’s reflection tilt away to continue scrubbing at her paw.

“Galvantula has been a parent before. She may understand better, but even she does not know that you didn’t want this. All she knows is that one of her humans is having a baby.” Turning the washrag over to its untarnished side, Emmet started on the other claw. “She loves you. So of course she loves them.”

He didn’t know how to answer that. Laying fully flat again, Ingo slid one hand out of the yellow fluff above him.

Gingerly, he ghosted it over the spot Galvantula was guarding.