Love and Admiration - Part 2 (Patreon Commission+ for VDO)

TAGS: F/F, Growth/Expansion, Hyper, Hyper Perfection, Goddess/Hyper Godlike

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Which shouldn’t be possible, but there she had it. Arceus knew for a fact that no one in existence should be even remotely capable of making her knees weak, yet all she needed was to look at Lyria for her entire body to feel like it was made of soft gelatin; and the Mewtwo, to her credit, knew just when to smile back, and how to smile back, for it to be the single best moment of the creator goddess’ life, no matter how many times it repeated itself.

So of course she sat down on Lyria’s lap; hell, the decision itself only took a mere moment, with everything that went into it crossing through Arceus’ mind in just a fraction of a moment, distended by her own powers to occupy as much time as it strictly needed for the sake of a dramatic pause. It was the only way she could shield herself from her own anxiety: if she saw it all as a game of sorts, where everything could be reduced to narrative tropes and numerical values, it was easier to ignore how much she wanted to scream on first contact with the Mewtwo.

Their body was soft, and Arceus loved it. The mere touch of it was akin to velvet, almost scandalously so; it brought to mind the almost primal need for her to run her hands over it, just to be able to feel Lyria’s body. What was worse was that the goddess knew it was a deliberate design choice: the Mewtwo hadn’t just been made to be the most perfect creature in terms of taskmaster efficiency, they’d been created to be perfect in every single way… and this did include all the little ways in which one would be tantalised by them.

Lyriad herself didn’t need to try, though she was decent enough to do so most of the time. Her baseline form would’ve been enough to get most people to blush through sheer proximity, but she occasionally put in some effort to really push the envelope: the “nerd” aesthetic was one such attempt, it being her latest go at trying to create a look for herself that would last for more than six months.

Though at times, even the Mewtwo had to admit that her presence was causing a few too many disturbances, leading her to try and tone down the effect she had on others around her. It was still strong enough that most felt an almost subconscious attraction for her, but at least it wasn’t the outright waves of adoration that came crashing into her whenever she accidentally resolved an impossible theorem just because it was getting in the way of her grocery shopping.

For Arceus though, it was an entirely different experience altogether. Almost religious in nature, it was feeling what it was like to be exposed to perfection itself, despite she herself being perfect in the literal definition of the word. Nothing could be better than she was, but Lyria definitely broke through that limiter, which made them… special. Arceus had to imagine that this was what other people felt when they looked up at her, and if that was the case, then the goddess couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of pride; this was quickly caught up in the complex network of interconnected and complicated feelings she had for Lyria though, at which point she just got lost in their eyes.

Lyria was at least happy that her date was slightly more at peace with herself than they had been just moments prior. Granted, this did take the form of Arceus plopping onto her lap and making some odd cooing, giggling noises as they tried to rub every inch of her, but she was used to it by then; she had that effect on people, for some reason. At least her date knew how to press her sweet spots, even if Lyria herself couldn’t be certain if they were doing it on purpose, or if she was as easy to read as an open book.

Whatever the case, the two of them were on the couch and snuggling, so now was the time to try and splurge out a bit more. Lyria was exceedingly careful when it came to self-modification; any one wrong step could mean the difference between a new boundary being explored and Arceus being so offended by the “overreaching” that they might very well put an end to their relationship. Or, at least, that’s how Lyria chose to rationalise her own indecision; it was easier if it was someone else’s fault other than her own.

But… she couldn’t blame Arceus. In truth, she couldn’t blame anyone, but doing it to them was just too much, even for her; there would come a time when she’d have to confront herself with the reality of her situation, and for all that the Mewtwo tried her best to delay it as much as possible, she had to admit that it was long overdue. Because, at the end of the day, what she was living was a lie, not a life; she was meant to be a hell of a lot more than what she normally presented as, it only being her own, conscious decision to be otherwise that prevented that. She was meant to be a goddess… but there was already a goddess there.

In her arms. Warm, and soft, and smiling, and happy, and definitely having a great time snuggling their head against her bosom.

Lyria sighed. Everything would’ve been a lot easier had Arceus just not been there, but one didn’t get to pick the circumstances of one’s existence; one could only adapt as best as they could. The Mewtwo hated the notion of her own divinity with a passion, as if being a goddess would fundamentally alter what and who she was, as opposed to it being a matter of power scaling; in her mind, gods were fickle and terrible things, entities whose whims and desires shaped reality for no reason other than because they felt bored.

But then Arceus existed. And despite them being far below her in the proverbial power ladder, they were still a goddess in their own right, and insisted on breaking every preconception that Lyria had. Where gods were meant to be petty, Arceus would go out of their way to help resolve whatever dispute they figured was their fault, when in the near totality of times, they had nothing to do about it; where gods were supposed to be tyrants, Lyria couldn’t remember the last time her date did… anything, really, that would involve exercising any degree of authority over anyone or anything.

In fact, for all that Lyria knew, Arceus was just someone; a person, with their own thoughts, and hopes, and dreams, and aspirations, and whatever else people were supposed to have. Given her artificial nature, trying to get a bead on what was “normal” and what was just her own nature telling her what she was supposed to do was… hard. Harder than it should be, in most occasions; the only situation in which she had absolutely no questions was, oddly enough, whenever she was with Arceus: there might be plenty of question marks on the fundamental nature of reality even then, but whenever Lyria locked eyes with her better half, she knew one thing.

She was meant to be there.

Arceus was thankfully getting none of this. It was highly doubtful they’d be able to keep their composure if they were, being entirely unable to process the notion that someone like Lyria might actually want to be with her; perhaps, in some distant corner of her mind, the goddess was in possession of that little nugget of self-actualisation, but in the present self, she was far too concerned with snuggling her way into blissful ignorance, perfectly content with just not thinking about it.

From her perspective, what she saw was a smiling Lyria, followed by the Mewtwo waving one of their hands in front of their face and their glasses vanishing from behind it. A cute trick, and one that caused a significantly stranger reaction than it should: as if possessed by someone else entirely, Arceus leaned upwards and planted a soft, quick kiss on Lyria’s lips.

It was over quickly enough that neither of them could really react to it, and indeed, neither of them did. For a brief moment, it felt as if the two of them were going to move on as if it didn’t take place, or almost like it was a perfectly normal, natural thing for the two of them to experience; Lyria in particular found it to be quite enjoyable, being her first and all, while Arceus was just happy not to have been pushed away. It was only after the moment passed that the full gravity of what the goddess had just done sank in, at which point, two things happened.

Firstly, Arceus immediately scurried to get away from Lyria. She had just lost control of herself, she had just done something stupid, and now the Mewtwo was going to hate her; she knew it, she couldn’t trust herself, she should never have invited them over, the whole damned relationship thing was ridiculous! Beings like her weren’t meant to be together with creatures like them, their whole thing was nothing short of absolute lunacy and it was her fault for thinking it could ever have been anything other than that. No, she was wrong, what she’d done was wrong, and now she was paying the price, as she should have from the start.

The second thing was that Lyria, knowing exactly what was going to go through her date’s mind, locked them in place, held them tighter than before, and promptly returned the kiss. Or, to be more precise, Lyria more or less threw herself at the literal goddess on her lap and locked lips with them, her own eyes closed, her hands keeping Arceus from letting their own inadequacies get in the way.

She normally wouldn’t have been nearly as upfront or almost aggressive about it, but it was time to stop pretending. It was time for Lyria to take charge and stop acting like she hadn’t been the dominant force in that relationship from the very start, and not even for her as well; ultimately, if she didn’t take the necessary first steps, Arceus would ruin the whole thing for themselves by constantly doubting whether what they had was real. And, to a certain extent, Lyria could understand them: she, too, occasionally struggled with the notion that what they were experiencing was actually happening, that it wasn’t just some wonderful dream they were sharing, one they would both emerge from at some point in the future.

But even if that were true, it wasn’t, because Lyria decreed it so. Because it was also time to stop acting like she wasn’t in control of things on a fundamental level; it was about time for her to put her foot down and assert her own needs, to say that yes, she wanted to do more than just snuggle, and that yes, Arceus was the one person she would ever think of going further with. To hell with obligations and concerns and worrying about breaking physical law by way of becoming bigger than a galaxy, Lyria didn’t care: she was there to make Arceus happy, and she was going to do so, regardless of what it took.

And if this meant growing herself to be several times larger than before, thoroughly ruining the couch and leaving Arceus looking even more puny and insignificant in her embrace, that was exactly what she was going to do; the goddess clearly liked being the smaller one there, so why not give them exactly what they wanted, in as much quantity as she could possibly imagine? Why not be a giantess for her goddess, when doing so cost her literally nothing?

A snap of the fingers. And she could hold Arceus in the palm of one hand.

There wasn’t even a house there anymore, at least not in the strictest sense. It still existed, but beyond that, it wasn’t physically present, nor was it an impediment to Lyria growing to cosmic sizes; under any other circumstances, the Mewtwo would never have stretched herself to such heights, but after what happened, how could she not? How could she not give Arceus the cherry on the proverbial shake now that the two of them had finally made one another’s feelings so clear to one another.

There was a whole universe out there. Why were they stuck inside a house, even if one that only existed in the strictest, most literal sense of the word, lacking any physicality beyond what the goddess who created it determined it to have? Why not be out there in the great void, the one that Arceus herself had created, that they may be able to bask in their own glory? Lyria figured her date was owed that much; they spent so long worrying about whether or not they were doing a good job that they often forgot about what they’d done well already.

But she didn’t. She gazed up at the starry sky every night, not because of its inherent beauty, but for what it meant; for the underlying knowledge that every twinkling star she could see, piercing through the inky black, had been either placed there by Arceus or made to exist through their actions. For the understanding that existence as she knew it, the one that had allowed her to come into being, was possible through the actions of the cutey she had on her palm, looking up at her with wide-open eyes and a trembling lip.

It was, in all respects, a reversal of roles that never should have happened, but now that it had, neither of them wanted to turn back around. Lyria might be able to effortlessly make herself be the size of a nebula, while gathering said nebulae around her as a halo of sorts, but she was only there because, at some point in the past, Arceus had allowed for it. And was that not the ultimate display of divine power? To create something better than oneself, to know that one’s actions had left reality itself a somewhat better place than it had been before one came in?

Lyria certainly believed so. And while Arceus was still busy trying to come to grips with what had literally just happened, the goddess would come around to believing the same thing as well: clearly, Lyria was just… better. Not a better person, but just a better everything: they were bigger, more powerful, they could weave and manipulate the universe to an extent that confounded even her, but above all, they were just them. There was no other way to describe it: Lyria was Lyria, sui generis, and Arceus wouldn’t have had it any other way.

It was a key going into a lock. In that moment, when she was finally at peace with the notion that Lyria was Lyria, it suddenly became a lot easier for Arceus to just… be. Her worries seemed to melt away, vanishing into the aether surrounding her, until she no longer resided upon a palm; in fact, the two of them were back in their house, their house, which the goddess had effortlessly rebuilt around them. And, as before, she was on the Mewtwo’s lap, the Mewtwo had their glasses back on, and the two of them were in the moment just before the kiss.

They were both aware that it had happened. The rest of the universe wasn’t, but the rest of the universe didn’t matter, not then, not now. The rest of the universe might as well not even exist as far as the two of them were concerned, so going back to experience their first kiss properly was nothing more than a cute party trick as far as the two of them were concerned. Lyria was just happy that Arceus was finally comfortable, while Arceus… Arceus, for the first time since her act of creation, took the wheel.

It was such an alien sensation that, for a short while, it actually felt wrong for her to take the first step in anything. After a near-eternity of sitting things out and letting them happen on their own, being assertive about what she wanted was definitely something Arceus was feeling like it was the very first time… but she liked it. The way she wrapped her arms around Lyria, how she waved a hand and made their glasses do that thing they did, how she pulled them closer, inch by inch, parsec by parsec, until their foreheads were gently pressed against one another and their eyes had nowhere to look at but one another.

That moment could last forever and they wouldn’t care; indeed, for all the two of them knew, the moment did last forever, and they were merely experiencing it in a desynchronized fashion:  the rest of reality would always and forever see them, stuck in place in that one instant of utmost adoration, an event horizon beyond which there could be no one but them. Visible from across the cosmos, preserved in that eternal moment, where any and all could look up and see them: the utmost expression of love, preserved against the backdrop of infinity.

Of course, for Arceus and Lyria, the real ones at least, the moment was just a moment, and in the next one they were together again, their lips pressed softly against each other, their tongues experimentally moving out to meet one another in the middle. For the two lovers, it was just a prelude for the real star of the show: their first kiss, made into something even more meaningful than it had been before, courtesy of the creator goddess getting off her fat rump and taking charge for once. That, and being ceaselessly horny about it as well.

Lyria was surprised at just how loud Arceus was once they got into the groove of things, but she definitely wasn’t going to pull back. Hearing those sorts of moans and whines coming from someone who just a few minutes (or eons, hard to tell) prior had been too nervous to even sit on her lap was nothing if not exhilarating, fulfilling even to a certain extent… and it gave her a reason to push further still.

The Mewtwo was still worried about whether or not she was going too quickly, so getting confirmation of the exact opposite served one purpose only: egging her on. Now that she knew barriers had been broken down, and Arceus was happy to indulge in more carnal exploits for once, Lyria could let loose all the thoughts and urges she’d been holding back ever since meeting the goddess… though, phased out, she didn’t want to go for the kill just yet. Better to stagger it out, and start small: run her fingers across Arceus’ curves, give them a couple of experimental squeezes, push deeper into the kiss and try to take control, moving the two of them to a more… comfortable position.

Arceus did nothing to stop it either; hell, feeling Lyria try and get on “top” was enough to push every button she had on her control panel, enough so that her white colouration went fully red around her cheeks once she opened her eyes and saw that amazonian giantess looming over her. Everything about the Mewtwo just seemed bigger now: her muscles were bulkier, her ass was somehow just as fit and tight but fatter nonetheless, and her tits were… well, they were definitely something, and enough of something to completely cover her face for a few seconds while they readjusted themselves.

Arceus could feel it too: Lyria repositioning their body so they ended up straddling her own, though there was something else to it that the goddess couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something was flowing all around her: long, thick, velvety-smooth, dripping in continuous curtains that felt like an endless bolt of silk being unfurled over her, wrapping around her, covering her in a warmth that surpassed even what Lyria had already provided. It was only when Arceus opened her eyes that she confirmed what part of her already knew: it was the Mewtwo’s hair.

Lyria had always prided herself on keeping hers long and wavy, almost excessively so, to the point where, in her few moments of confidence, Arceus joked about them looking like a model for a shampoo ad. Now though? Now what Lyria had on them made her previous hairstyle look like it hadn’t been there at all: from their head flowed an endless, literally infinite set of locks, extending in every possible direction and multiple other impossible ones as they infiltrated dimensional levels that shouldn’t even be accessible by anything technically physical. No matter where Arceus looked, it was nothing but Lyria’s hair: it had, in fact, wrapped around her, wrapped around the both of them, keeping them tightly bundled up such that they couldn’t get a single inch of clearance.

Not that they’d ever want to leave arm’s distance, of course.

For anyone outside of the wall of hair, whatever was taking place inside of it would forever remain a mystery. Impenetrable, untouchable, nothing but their own little world where the two of them could be together forever, basking in one another’s presence, never to let go, never to experience any bliss more perfectly formed. And in this cocoon, they would be happy together, for they were together.

Thoughts of carnal enjoyment could always be had, but the certainty of familiarity was something no one could buy, something no one could create from nothing. Perhaps that was the whole point of it: Arceus was powerful enough to create life, but she couldn’t truly make something that could supersede her in raw power. She could certainly try, as she had multiple times before, but all the gods she created were nothing but pale imitations of her.

But Lyria? Lyria might not have been her direction creation, but she existed because she had allowed for the conditions needed to make her exist. Arceus’ own melody had spawned from it a new symphony, one more beautiful than anything she could’ve ever made herself, and now… now they harmonised. Now they sang together and created new music, a new reality, one where the two of them could be happy in eternal companionship.

They’d leave at some point. Too much of a good thing would get boring even for them, so eventually they’d step outside their little bubble and go do something for the rest of the universe. Besides, they had full control over the flow of time anyway, so they could spend as much of it in one another’s arms as they felt like and it wouldn’t really change anything; they could emerge from their pocket at any point, and it would be the point where they wanted to be. And if that was the case, why bother worrying?

“Spending” time worrying with things was something they did before, when they weren’t perfectly attuned to one another, when their minds were functioning on different tracks despite very much wanting to be on the same frequency. But now? Now Arceus and Lyria didn’t need to think about doing anything; whatever they did, it would by definition be whatever they wanted to do, so there was no real point in hesitating or double-guessing themselves, not anymore.

For Arceus, a brand new way of doing things. For Lyria, merely an extension of who she already was. And for the both of them, a life ready to be lived, an eternity ready to be experienced. A goddess and someone more, a goddess for the goddess perhaps, though Lyria would never presume to take that title. Two lovers, quite certainly, two halves of a whole, that much they knew.

For that much was truth.