Love and Admiration - Part 1 (Patreon Commission+ for VDO)

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

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It was probably excessive to be dilating time in order to prepare for the date. Probably. It was also probably a bad idea for her to not be doing so, considering who she was going to meet; really, everyone telling her that she was making too big a deal out of the whole thing could go take several hikes and never come back, because yes, it was a big deal, and anyone saying otherwise was wrong.

She stopped. She sighed, letting her warm breath fog up the mirror for a moment before wiping it clean. Getting herself under control had been a challenge the Arceus had been failing at for what felt like months, quite coincidentally ever since meeting Lyria; whenever she figured she had things set properly in her head, there came another stray thought, mostly of the lewd variety, sending her spiralling back down, uncontrollably growing hornier by the second.

She couldn’t help it either! How exactly the Mewtwo was getting under her skin so much was anyone’s guess, which inevitably left her entirely at the mercy of her own whims given who she was; honestly, if the creator goddess of all existence couldn’t answer that question, what hope did anyone else have? Well, anyone else other than Lyria, but she couldn’t exactly ask them, now could she? That’d just make the whole thing even more embarrassing, at which point they would offer assistance and she’d end up even more flustered and then she’d have to reset everything and it was all a mess, really.

Another sigh. Things would’ve been a lot simpler if Lyriad wasn’t just so… everything. They weren’t even one of the Arceus’ creations, not directly at least; everything that existed was the product of her actions in some way or another, but the Mewtwo had been entirely engineered from the ground up by mortal hands, who accomplished their task perhaps a bit too well, given how easily their creation broke free from their containment and went to work living a perfectly ordinary existence afterwards.

Arceus went to some absurd lengths to keep the universe from collectively baulking at the mere notion of Lyria; someone far more powerful than the literal creator deity was not something that reality could abide by, but she wasn’t going to let her own laws get in the way, not after that chance encounter with the Mewtwo that ended with the two of them having some tea, and herself being so red in the face that she might as well have gone full supernova with how much energy she was radiating. Or… something, she couldn’t think straight anymore, not with Lyria in the brain; even shaking her head did nothing to get the mental image of the Mewtwo out of her mind’s eye, and she wasn’t entirely certain that the process wasn’t supernatural either!

In sharp contrast, Lyria herself had just gotten ready for the date. Humming quietly as she made sure her house was tidied up, she glanced up at the clock, confirmed she still had about half an hour left before having to leave, then went back to the bathroom to check if everything was fine with herself. Or rather, she knew it was fine, but keeping the glamour up and running was part of the routine, and the moment she slacked off was the moment something bad happened; didn’t cost her anything to be on top of things, so might as well triple check.

Her current form was roughly thirty feet tall, and quite contained when it came to her proportions. While Lyria usually preferred to walk around in a far buffer, far curvier body, she wasn’t going to the gym or out shopping: she was having a date with Arceus, and that made things a bit more difficult. Much as the goddess liked to claim otherwise, the Mewtwo knew that her own body being what it was made them… uncomfortable, to use a polite word.

Creator deities, by their very definition, were supposed to be at the top of the hierarchy. They had, quite literally, made everything, so it stood to reason that no matter what existed, it should, by default, be less powerful than the entity that birthed it from nothing on a whim. And for the most part, the universe agreed to these rules and kept things somewhat curtailed: the many children Arceus had sired were all quite powerful in their own right, gods really in their own, but never quite on their creator’s level.

Lyria, however, was not a creature of the universe, or at least not one that reality knew how to handle. Built one genetic sequence at a time by a group of overpaid, overtaxed scientists in a bunker somewhere, she was, in many respects, the pinnacle of creation itself: Arceus had birthed the universe and all life thereof, and now life itself had birthed a new form of it, through judicious application of no scientific ethics and copious amounts of cold, hard cash.

The result was a nameless Mewtwo who was, at least on paper, supposed to answer to the people who created them. Unfortunately for them, when they set off to create the perform bioengineered lifeform, they passed that test with flying colours, and thus Lyria, as she chose to name herself, simply left the laboratory, blasted the front door open, and resolved to live by herself; she even left a note telling her creators that, if they wanted her to come back, they were more than happy to ask, knowing perfectly well they’d never rise to that level of decency.

As a result, she was… different. Her body, or rather, the physical form she inhabited whenever she wanted to interact with the world, was little more than a fraction of her full self. If ever Lyria wanted to fully expose what she was capable of, she knew for a fact that the universe in its entirety wouldn’t be enough; even her “giantess” form, easily large enough to cradle the whole planet in her arms, was nothing but a treat, a snack really, for whenever she felt like indulging in some specific fantasies. But it was, still, not nearly close to her full, true size.

And that presented a slight issue, because Arceus was… not as big. It was an elephant in the room that neither Lyria nor Arceus had the wherewithal to address: the latter because it completely shattered their own perception of themselves, and the former because she figured it wouldn’t be nice to show off. Besides, Lyria appreciated a chance to interact with other people in small-scale, and with Arceus being who they were, she had an opportunity to splurge out a bit on what “small” meant; she just had to be careful not to go too crazy, or else she might genuinely hurt her friend’s feelings and then there would be an issue.

Arceus, in the meantime, was running herself ragged preparing the dinner location. She promised she’d “find” somewhere fancy, only to then run into the obvious problem that was there not being anywhere that could fit the two of them. This left one option: bringing her powers of creation out from the closet and making somewhere fancy, with all the bells and whistles that entailed. This would’ve been significantly easier had Arceus not spent eons without exercising those same powers, doubly so if she wasn’t beset by thoughts of Lyria at every waking moment.

Would she like the way the tables were set? Would she enjoy the view of the starlit night? Would she think having a nebula being devoured by a black hole as the centerpiece of the outdoor decoration was a bit too much? Would she even want to eat anything, or was that optional? Heavens above, did Lyria even eat at all?! Arceus didn’t know, she’d never bothered to ask! She just assumed the Mewtwo ate, but the more she thought about it, the more the creator deity realised how terribly wrong of an assumption that was!

Halfway across the universe, Lyria herself was putting on the finishing touches to her form: a little bit of muscle, just to pad herself out, couple of cup sizes extra, some ass, nothing fancy. She looked perfectly “normal”, albeit far taller than most people; proportions were entirely within the realm of the reasonable… apart from her hair, which she refused to keep at anything other than floor-length, because she deserved a little something, damnit! That and her glasses too; she didn’t need them, but they combined nicely with her mane to give her that oddly nerdy, “girl next door” aesthetic that she insisted she didn’t want to invoke.

At least Arceus got it. They got it hard enough that Lyria couldn’t help but blush just thinking about it.

Arceus, who by then was a moment away from going nuts as she finalised preparations and got ready to welcome Lyria into her realm. Not that the Mewtwo needed permission, but for whatever reason they insisted on following things according to protocol, which did not make things easier; it was a constant reminder of just how outclassed Arceus was, and at the same time, a secondary reminder that she didn’t care in the slightest about it. Were it a rival god attempting to usurp reality for their own wants, then maybe the goddess might be slightly concerned, but this was Lyria; she fixed structural problems on a large scale as a hobby, and more often than not refused to take credit after she did so. Hell, Arceus was convinced that if she and the Mewtwo switched places, the universe would run better… but, then, there was that train of thought again, and the inadequacies came rushing back in.

Almost instantly, Lyria felt something was off, and correctly deducing that Arceus was beating herself up over nothing again, sighed and turned on the spot. The door to the bathroom was open, but she needed it closed; thus, when she opened it back up, she was right outside… a restaurant. For a moment, the Mewtwo was legitimately taken aback, not expecting to see something like that floating in the middle of space; it was only after she gave it a moment’s thought that she realised what had likely taken place, at which point she had to stifle a giggle or three to keep herself from collapsing into a fit.

Her appearance, unannounced and ahead of schedule, at least served to snap Arceus out of her funk. Suddenly possessed of a laser-focused intent, the goddess snapped her fingers, forced everything into its “proper spot” in accordance with some long-forgotten archetype in her head, then appeared right in front of Lyria… outside the restaurant. Dressed in casual wear. Which she’d forgotten to switch out of beforehand.

“Cool place!” Lyria instantly commented, “But you really didn’t need to, yaknow? I’d be fine just chilling on the couch, honey.”

And, just like that, all tension left.

Honestly, it was just cheating at that point. After everything Arceus had gone through, the least Lyria could do was give her the satisfaction of being frazzled and having her worried justified; instead, the Mewtwo just showed up and defused things with no regard for proper dramatic structure. Truly, the most unfathomably evil creature in existence.

“I’m so sorry, I look like a mess!” Arceus replied, looking down at herself, “I forgot t-”

“Hey. No. Bad” - Lyria punctuated her interruption with a step forward, grabbing hold of her friend’s face and immediately planting a smooch on her lips - “None of that. You did great, the place is awesome, and you never looked better. Now, we’re gonna go inside, we’re gonna put on a movie, and then we’re gonna snuggle, alright?”

The restaurant melted from sight, replaced immediately with a swirling, inky black mass, one that reformed a few moments later into a living room surrounding the two. Arceus wasn’t even sure if she was the one who did it; she just knew it happened, and wasn’t about to complain about it. Not only that, but the interior was completely different from the usual as well; rather than the rather common and deliberately nonthreatening decoration she’d put up as a means of calming herself down whenever Lyria wasn’t around, the whole thing was lit with low-powered LEDs of various blue hues, giving the whole place a surprisingly calm atmosphere that did nothing to assuage Arceus’ fears.

The Mewtwo, for her part, wasn’t about to let her date for the night get in front of themselves. They always did that, it was ridiculous; hadn’t she been the one who suggested the two of them spend some time together? Hadn’t she been the one who insisted that Arceus take some time off doing whatever it was they did so they could finally have some fun? And yet the goddess insisted on second-guessing themselves; it’d be infuriating if Lyria didn’t know where it came from, at which point it just became awkward again.

Hence the mood lighting. Hopefully, if things were led in a smoother, more calming direction, the two of them could fall into that perfect state of being where they were too comfortable to worry about anything; plus, it was easy for the Mewtwo to pump her mass up just a bit more when Arceus wasn’t looking, purely so she could sweep the creator goddess off their feet and carry them in on her arms. She wouldn’t do that, obviously, but it was a nice thought to have; the muscles were definitely there though, even if Lyriad had to perform an emergency clothes extension to keep them from ripping apart.

It was hard to judge distances when she was in Arceus’ realm; given that it wasn’t exactly a place so much as a dimensional frequency, Lyria being thirty feet tall or several parsecs wide didn’t really matter all that much. It was all relative, with the only two constants being herself and her lovely Arceus, who by then was shaking from head to toe as they nervously introduced their guest to their home, as if they hadn’t already done that a dozen times before.

Lyria chose to be forceful, for once. She wasn’t going to let this nonsense carry on for longer than strictly necessary, so as soon as the front door was closed behind them and the conceptual construct of an “indoors” was established, the Mewtwo took a step forward, leaned over Arceus, waited until they were done fumbling with their words, and just stared at them.

Just that. The goddess took a few moments to internalise the fact that, somehow, she was smaller than Lyriad was, and even then her mind refused to fully comprehend it; she’d never been the smaller one, even if the Mewtwo absolutely could have enforced that dynamic multiple times before, so to need to look up to see Lyria was… not nearly as frustrating or nerve-wracking as Arceus thought it would be. Quite the contrary, actually; the goddess had to exercise a great deal of willpower not to immediately start blushing when she saw her date for the night looking down at her like she was some sort of piece of modern art.

It was… difficult to parse. Had Lyria never existed, Arceus would’ve perhaps never truly considered the scale she operated at. Being so used to living in higher energy levels and only rarely coming back down to interact with her creations, the goddess found it hard to compare herself to anything that “existed” in the conventional sense. Half of the time, she had to mess around with concepts and ideas rather than physical measurements, and even then this only went so far: one could only “tower” over the idea of “all” for so long before this stopped meaning anything at all, and Arceus was somewhat convinced she’d actually been making herself bigger entirely by accident whenever she tried to ascertain how large she actually was.

Lyria, in contrast, was as big as she needed to be, end of story. Arceus didn’t know how that worked, nor did she care to find out, seeing as there was a non-zero chance that doing so would make it stop functioning properly… or not, this was Lyria; far as the creator goddess was aware, the Mewtwo might very well be perfectly capable of resetting the entirety of the universe to better fit with their whims, but just chose not to do so.

All of this to come to the conclusion that, for whatever reason, Arceus really liked looking up at Lyria. As in, she honestly lacked the words needed to explain just how much she was enjoying the simple exercise of looking up for once and seeing a gorgeous giantess several times her size and so many times more powerful than her. It was a novel experience as well; never before had Arceus been given the opportunity to even have someone bigger than her, so now that it happened… it was nice. Really nice. So nice, in fact, that she didn’t move at all from her position and kept staring back at the Mewtwo.

A Mewtwo who, having the upper hand in this little game the two of them were playing, decided to go in for the kill in the one way she knew how: letting her glasses fall gently down from where they usually rested. It was a complicated maneuver; she didn’t exactly have a nose or snout like other people did, needing to use her ears and a constant, low-level telekinetic field in order to maintain the perfect nerd aesthetic at all times. She’d be lying if she said that small gesture was entirely natural as well; Lyriad had spent quite some time in front of a mirror, perfecting the motion for just such an occasion.

It couldn’t be too quick, or else it would look like the glasses just slipped off and happened to be caught at the last moment; couldn’t be too slow, or else it would lost the charm entirely. But if she hit that sweet spot right in the middle, where the glasses came down from her eyes at just the right velocity, exposing the two, bright purple irises behind them? If she nudged her head down at just the right angle to make it seem like she was peering over said glasses rather than not needing them at all? Then she had it, and Arceus was putty in her hands.

The goddess, for her part, was doing her best not to just lose her mind at the sight, exercising whatever was left of her willpower to keep herself in check and not immediately rush forward and try to hug that immense pile of buff Mewtwo that Lyria definitely wanted her to hug and cherish. And for only one reason as well: the two of them had a couch to use. A scandalous notion, to think that they could just sit down and enjoy themselves after Lyria so carelessly played her cards in such a manner; why, Arceus could bet the Mewtwo thought they could carry on with their plans to snuggle as if the mistress of the house wouldn’t insist on some heavy petting!

But that was for later. For the time being, there was a couch, and Arceus found herself practically crackling with excitement as she took one of Lyria’s hands and pulled them into the living room, the Mewtwo going along with it with a playful rolling of the eyes; the latter waited until the two of them were close enough to the upholstery before moving forward with what she’d planned to do before… but slightly more gently. No point scaring Arceus off when they were so close to the finish line, so instead, Lyria simply moved around them, sat down first, and then very conspicuously patted her lap.

Now, this left the creator goddess with only two options, one of which she could never take; part of her was genuinely irritated that the Mewtwo would outright force her hand like that, but this bit of her mind was easily silenced and shoved aside for later elimination once she recalled that, had Lyria not done so, she certainly wouldn’t ever either. So now, she was given two ways out of that situation: either pretend to ignore the patting and sit beside Lyria, hoping perhaps to sit down on their lap later once her nervous streak was taken care of, or just get on with it and stop dancing around the subject so the two of them could finally have some fun.

This was unfortunately not as easy as it should be, but Arceus did try. She froze, looking at the gorgeous beauty sitting on the couch in front of her, wondering to herself how in all of the hells and heavens she managed to snag someone like them; half the time, she had to convince herself that Lyria was even real, because they couldn’t be. Everything about them was an impossibility, and yet somehow the Mewtwo managed to just… make it work.

People weren’t supposed to be able to modify themselves at will. People weren’t supposed to be so enormous that their forms would outsize the universe, forcing them to adopt smaller, more dimensionally contained avatars. People weren’t supposed to be able to master whatever task they set themselves to without a single care nor moment or difficulty, nor were they meant to solve problems that were designed to be unsolvable by way of revolutionising math whenever a complicated theorem reared its ugly head. People were not supposed to be perfect… and yet Lyria was not only that, she surpassed it.

To call the Mewtwo perfection incarnate would be an understatement, and an objective one as well. Arceus was perfect; she was perfect in the sense that she had created everything, and thus served as the ultimate benchmark for pretty much anything and anyone; not so much of a brag as much as it was a perfectly reasonable comparison of her power level next to everyone else’s. If person A could do something, then Arceus could do it better, that was just how things went; no one was supposed to beat her at anything, no matter what it was.

Except for Lyria, who for some reason decided that it wasn’t good enough that she could make Arceus’s knees shake, she needed to go above and beyond what even the creator goddess was capable of as a matter of routine. Once more, Arceus was convinced that she could just leave the cosmos unattended and she’d come back to it actually being more functional than before on account of Lyria being put in charge… and, on some level, Arceus actually wanted to try that, if for no reason other than her own, slightly morbid curiosity.

But she could never do that to her wonderful Lyria. There, looking at her with those deep, purple eyes, inviting her to sit on their lap and just forget about everything else. The universe would cease to exist beyond the two of them, and reality would be whatever they wanted it to be; if needed, they could extend the meaning of what a “second” was until it was no longer just a sixtieth of a minute, but however long they felt like it should be. If needed, they could spend a literal eternity there, never to leave one another’s arms. If needed, they could do whatever they wanted, and no one could tell them otherwise.

In the end though, Arceus just really wanted to snuggle.

It was such a ridiculous thing to say, but she really did; she just wanted to sit down, not have to worry about her own ridiculous neuroses, and just… snuggle. With Lyria, of course; no other person could fill that gaping void in her chest yearning for contact and physical attention, only the Mewtwo, only that hunky amazon who seemed so capable of wearing whatever amount of muscle was needed to make her feel irresistible.