*Screaming In procrastination*

“Lie close,” Laura said, Pricking up her golden head: “We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?”

So...

Genshin Sagau right?

Imposter Au right?

But what if, just hear me out, WHAT IF

The reader, the creator, was from another universe/game.

Let me explain.

(From halo) Spartan!reader fall in Genshin with their armor and all.

They're alone and all that, so they start searching around and while walking in the shadows they see from a distance someone with their own face being worshiped like a god by all the characters.

So they step up to see to discover why the fuck this person is being worshiped and has their face.

Everyone is shocked upon seeing this person, that freaking tall and has an armor no one has ever seen and why do they feel both drawn to them by their aura but at the same time intimidated?

The imposter (the real one) notices this and orders, out of fear, for someone to attack them.

So the acolytes do just that...

The problem?

Reader is absolutely fast, they just see a blur everytime they move, and when someone manages to attack them, let's say, with a hydro attack...

Their power shield fucking protects them from the attack, redirecting it and they didn't even flinch or move a single step so everyone is, yet again, shocked.

The reader, tired of the imposter bullshit moves even faster until they are Infront of the imposter, who cowers in fear, they pick them up and pull out their magnum and they shot the imposter right in the head, killing them in a flash and revealing they weren't the creator.

Everyone stands there shocked and horrified until they connect the dots and...

This person with this armor MUST be their creator, their aura and moves and everything just reveals it.

So now you have a confused Spartan!reader being worshiped and being prayed on and receiving apologies and stuff from the acolytes.

Ooooor on the other hand...

(from Warframe) Tenno!reader who somehow ended up here in teyvat, in their drifter or operator form and they're exploring around teyvat and all that stuff. Maybe they even befriend the Traveler (for this imma gonna use Lumine cause I love her)

Then

They get captured and jugged at Fontaine, their sentence being death, obviously because HoW dArE ThEy To StOlE tHe CrEaToRs FaCe?

So they get executed by a sword on the chest. Lumine being second judged for protecting the imposter and everyone is looking dissatisfied and disappointed at her while she and paimon are trying to explain that they're the real creator but no one listens

So everyone at first cheers on until they see the gold blood start to fall to the floor, then all the characters are like What have we done?! And stuff.

The imposter is laughing like crazy because they won! Yay!

BUT THEN...

Tenno!reader wakes up and pulls the swords out of their chest and throws it away.

Everyone is like, shocked and even more when they see their wound heal.

Reader is absolutely pissed at the imposter because HOW DARE THEY TO TRY AND KILL THEM AND THEY TRY TO KILL THE ONLY PERSON WHO DIDN'T TRY TO KILL THEM BECAUSE OF THEIR FACE?!

So they transform into their Warframe, let's say... Excalibur umbra.

They unsheathe their sword and activate the Exalted blade, surprising everyone by their power, before they move as fast as the wind towards the guards around them (none being any character) using Slash dash and stuff showing their power.

Finally, they are covered in blood and get to the imposter, who tries to fight them but nothing comes out of it because with a quick movement they decapitated them, showing their red blood and proving even further they're the true creator (thing they don't know they are)

Finally, they clean all the blood that feel upon themselves and walk towards Lumine and paimon, helping them to get on their feet, before the reader picks up Lumine I'm their arms and starts to walk away, ignoring all the characters who try to plead for forgiveness

The just start to sprint away with the traveler in their arms, paimon following them.

The characters (specially the archons) search for them for a few days until they find a place with the creators aura all over, so they enter and see Tenno!reader is sleeping in that weird the tenno sleep, alongside si Lumine who's sleeping peacefully.

When they approach reader is quick to shoot their head up and stand up, placing their hand on their swords should any of them try something.

But they don't, hurt because the creator saw them as a threat, they all kneel down and beg for forgiveness once again.

Tenno reader does not say anything but let's them be, as long as they don't cause them trouble they're free to do whatever they want.

So now you have all the acolytes being jealous of Lumine who's treated by the creator as she was a dear friend, them helping her search for clues to find Aether.

Also I can imagine the archons following the trio (reader, Lumine and paimon) around, looking to win the creator's favor.

Tenno!reader wouldn't engage in conversation, only nodding, shaking or shrugging as a response to questions, until one day, when Lumine was feeling down upon not finding her brother, creator readers kneels down besides her and offering a reassuring hand they speak.

And everyone hears their voice and in a instant they are (more) over the heels for their creator, because their voice is soothing and beautiful.

They then only speak to Lumine.

And so the drill goes like that, the acolytes trying to win readers attention but they are too focused on helping Lumine and finding a way back home, to the lotus/margulis.

A Death that need not fight against you, that will often fight for you, because why not? It will gather you home eventually. Why not enjoy you first?

A Death that treasures those who fight it most ardently. That loves healers and defenders and survivalists and necromancers and mad scientists and immortal gods. That lets them pour everything they are into fighting it, denying it, adoring every desperate scrap of strength and will and brilliance and raw determination poured out against it. That catches you when your strength is done and all your will and brilliance run out, that gathers you close beneath a warm, dark cloak, and whispers well done, oh child, you were magnificent, well done.

A Death who will not seek to hasten an inevitable end, who will chastise those who seek to hasten it for others in Death’s stead, who will slowly and patiently plot and sow and siphon away from the great monsters of the world. Because who are they to hasten Death’s domain, who are they to deny Death its time and its place, who are they to cut short these vital glories that illuminate it so? Who are they to presume upon its will, that is so much larger and so much longer than theirs?

Who are they to call, and presume that Death, of all beings, should obey?

A Death that is not a hunter but a gatherer, who is always and eternal, who loves you, and can afford to wait. A Death who will fight for you and defend you, who will place its hand upon those who would speed you to its embrace, who has no need to rush you, only to greet you when you call.

A Death who is kind.

And patient.

And, before all and above all,

“From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it’s different. Consider again that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there - on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors, so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.

Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to preserve and cherish the only home we’ve ever known; the pale blue dot.”

“My apologies for being late and alone. The others could not come, so they sent me as their emissary. You may call me Death.”

One of the elders stood and bowed, and the rest of the assemblage lowered their heads in respect. “Welcome, Death, to this meeting of divinity. We accept your apology, and ask that you elaborate as we feast. Please, enjoy our gifts.” Here, the table became populated with sumptuous meats and filling drinks. As they dug in, Death did their level best to not touch those nearby, recoiling should contact with another be imminent. Pleasantries were exchanged, food and drink were consumed, and soon idle chatter returned, though somewhat hesitantly.

“You asked me to elaborate on my being the only one to attend, yes?” At this, the elder nodded and all waited with bated breath. “Humans, peacefully may they rest, have had and lost many gods and goddesses over the eons. Yet I have remained, steadfast and unchanging. I have tended to man and god, accepting them all regardless of their origins. Tyrant and child, civilized and wild, man, beast, god… All are equal in my eyes. All are deserving of rest.”

“I am the only one here on request of the current heads of the various pantheons, for they all see me as the only one who can be trusted to meet with you all. The current elders of human faiths are losing power and dying, and I had to make sure they would not leave too early while I was away, hence why I was late.”

“But gods do not die!” Death turned their gaze to a young insectoid god, dressed in the accoutrements of battle. The war god seemed to shrink at Death’s gaze, which was even and emotionless.

“Oh, but gods do die, young one. I have been there as the ancients of old withered from lack of belief and comforted them as they came to grips with their sudden mortality. I watched as icons of blind and zealous rage skyrocketed to power and crashed in a smoking crater of failure, never seeing that their demise was inevitable. I have tended to the aging gods who managed to hold believers amongst the mortals over centuries, the resurrected ones who found new faith after centuries of being without. More importantly, I have seen gods fuse together in order to stay alive, casting aside pieces of themselves which would either thrive or wither at the mortal’s whims.”

“I noticed,” said one of the elders, “that you dare not touch any of us.” Death nodded, and the elder continued. “Am I to understand that your touch is lethal?”

“The humans certainly seem to think so, as do the young ones here. I’d rather not run the risk of proving them right unintentionally, this is supposed to be a friendly meeting after all.”

“Were any of us here to be on the edge of losing all our followers and withering into nothingness, what would you do?” Here, many of the oldest turned their gazes upon Death.

“I would do for you as I have done for others in such a situation. I would be there for you, in your final moments, and ensure that your passing was a peaceful one. And as I am there for you, the humans will be there for your erstwhile followers. They will record the names of gods that are not theirs, in memoriam. In respect. I like to think that they have learned from me as much as I have learned from them.” At this, the elders nodded and smiled, standing and walking away from the table. As all gathered rose and made to say their farewells, the young insectoid war god glared at Death, and in their people’s hearts arose a desire to crush the weak fleshbag humans.

“You will not kill us, weak human emissary. No god can die.”

But this… This is something else.

The rapidity of a meme’s introduction to its zenith to its decline is so rapid that in ten years, you’ll need a damn twenty-page manual to explain this. It’ll be as unfunny and hard to explain as jokes in Shakespeare plays, except even more inexplicable because fuck, at least Shakespeare’s jokes are usually about anal or fucking your mother, good wholesome sex jokes we can all get behind.

ok let me see if i can break this down easily. YMCA is the easiest place to start - the song itself has become a meme over time with people changing the lyrics to reference other pop cultural events. so YMCA is meme one (1)

this first lyric replacement (”take the breadsticks and run”) is a reference to the tumblr meme ‘stuffing breadsticks into my purse’. i think everyone remembers that one so i wont bother to explain it. that’s meme two (2)

“man door hand hook car door” is a meme of its own, a creepypasta from i dont remember when. it was a terrible stupid retelling of the generic ‘stuck in a car while hook handed man tries to kill us’ story so the stupid title caught on for memorability. that in and of itself is meme three (3)

‘gun’ is… yeah i dont know how to explain gun. long story short you add gun to the end of a phrase instead of what you expect the last word to be. its shock funny. its everywhere but its popular to add to “man door hand hook car door” for.. some reason? gun is meme four (4)

and the thing is, this four meme combo is something thats gone around before. meme combos are, itself, a meme. which means taking this meme combo and mixing in another meme actually becomes meme five (5)

which leaves us at loss.jpg. loss.jpg was a terrible bad comic supposed to be about some tragic event, but it was presented so poorly literally no one takes it seriously, and for some reason recreating the four-panel setup has become popular. so thats meme six (6)

well i added my contribution : )

Fey: Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade...

Human: Thank you so much. She means everything to me.

Fey: I know, I know. Let's hope the price wasn't too much for you after all... Only time will tell.

Human: So, when do we start?

Fey: ...If I may ask you to elaborate?

Human: You said you wanted my firstborn.

Fey: Yes? And you agreed?

Human: Yeah, so, when do we start?

Fey: