#Lumi my love

[howlbear]

Hyperfixate on your own characters, it's healthy for you

[vmlnrznotfound]

THIS>>>

Soft launch and hard launch with Rin Itoshi?

rin itoshi only cares about football. everyone knows that. so who the hell is she?

the match was intense of course, rin gave it is all, putting in blood sweat and tears for the victory he’s spent his entire life dreaming of. the final whistle blows as the crowd erupted into cheers. he did it. finally. rin stood in the middle of the pitch, collecting himself while he comes down from his adrenaline-filled high, sweat dripping from his brow with only one thing in mind. his eyes scan the stands searching for a familiar face, the only face he wanted to see. there she was, face in awe as she cheered for him, his lucky charm, his ride or die. he felt a rare warmth in his chest, a moment of softness amidst the chaos of victory.

after the game, rin made his way through the crowded stadium in his makeshift disguise, his mind focused on finding you. it didn’t take long as he spotted you sitting on the bleachers, wearing his jersey, a proud smile on your face. he approached you, giving you a soft hug from behind while the noise of the crowd fades into the background.

"you made it," he said, his voice softer than usual.

you looked up at him, eyes shining with pride. "of course i did, i wouldn’t miss it for the world. you were amazing out there, rin."

he sat down beside you on the vacant seat, the adrenaline from the match still coursing through his veins. "it was all you sweetheart."

they sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the stadium slowly empty out. rin's mind wandered to the post-match routines he was usually so diligent about, but tonight felt different. all that mattered was savouring this precious moment with you

the night that followed was nothing but bliss. the two of you eventually packed up and went home together in his car, where he surprised you with a beautiful bouquet of roses he prepared for after the match.

arriving at your shared apartment, the rest of the night went faster than either of you expected. from the glass of wine you two shared together to slow dancing in the living room and plenty of intimate moments, you two ended the night sweetly in each other's arms.

the warm glow of the sun woke you up. you were covered in your silky bed sheets as you checked the clock, 8:37. while you felt lonely without your boyfriend's presence on the mattress next to you, you figured he was simply on his morning run.

you lazily helped yourself out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, wanting to cook your partner a nice breakfast to celebrate his victory. although, to your surprise, you were greeted by that very partner preparing a stack of pancakes with freshly cut fruit.

you approached rin, who was in nothing but grey sweatpants, and gave him a soft kiss on the shoulder. “good morning baby.”

he leaned into your touch giving you a quick peck back as he continued the pancakes, ushering you to sit down while he cooked.

your phone has been buzzing quite a bit since you woke up. finally deciding to entertain whoever may be messaging you, you unlock your phone to find a plethora of messages from your friends. opening your chat with your best friend, you’re left with nothing but curiosity. “Y/N” 8:01

“CHECK INSTAGRAM ASAP” 8:01

“HE FINALLY DID IT” 8:02

after sending them a quick reply, you finally decide to see what all the chaos is about. and god, you we’re fucking shocked. 

liked by itoshisae, bachiim and 1.2m others

itoshirin my lucky charm

honestly. you just sat there for a while, processing what happened. so after your brain starts to function again, you decide to interrogate the man in question.

“rinnie, what’s this?” you call him over with curiosity in your voice.

“hm?” he cocks a brow as he sets the breakfast aside and makes his way over to you.

you show him the upload and you see a slight smile on his lips. he says nothing as he simply leans in to take you into a deep kiss. albeit slightly taken aback, you lean into his lips, letting his actions speak louder than words.

after you pull back, you let out a soft laugh, “looks like you broke the internet, rinnie.” you joked as he sat you down on the couch for his home cooked breakfast.

the day then was spent scrolling through social media, reading everyone's theories about who rin itoshi’s mystery woman might be. some thought you were a childhood friend, others speculated you were a secret girlfriend from his hometown. the comments ranged from supportive to downright ridiculous. some even simping over you.

"do you regret it?" you asked. half jokingly referring to the more down bad comments.

he shook his head, his expression serious. "not at all. you’re mine and i wouldn’t want it any other way."

slightly surprised from the affectionate words leaving your strikers mouth, you leant against him and stroked his head, teasing him for his boldness. "you know, i never expected you to take initiative. look at you go"

he reciprocated your action with an arm around you, pulling you into his chest to hide the tips of his ears blushing a soft pink. "neither did i. but now that it is, i don't mind. as long as you're with me, i don't care what the world thinks."

you continued scrolling through the comments, finding amusement in the wild theories people came up with. despite the chaos, there was a sense of contentment between them. rin had always been focused on soccer, but in that moment, he realised that there was more to life than just that game.

"you really are my lucky charm," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your body. "and you’re my everything, rin."

an: i did not sleep last night for this and i don’t regret it. i didn’t proofread it so i’m so sorry for any mistakes but oh well 🫠

hard launch too orrr???

[illuminiscentboba]

[he needs you...tell him he's only human]

k. akaashi comfort fic

tw: akaashi experiencing an depressive episode and he's finally letting you give him the love he deserves during it

check out: are you wearing my merch?!

many things come to mind when akaashi keiji is brought up; for instance, the words helpful, considerate, always has a back up plan for any situation that concerns those he cares about.

but he's only human you remembered thinking last week when you were searching for tissues to clean up the coffee you knocked over, akaashi already a step ahead, having procured the tissues from his bag, asking the waiter for help before you could blink. he really was prepared for everything.

to be loved is to be known and boy does he know you to a T. he knows your habits and silly mannerisms and makes you feel seen and heard. in most of your pictures together he isn't even looking at the camera but you instead. his dark aqua eyes seem to follow you, curious and interested in the framework that you define yourself with.

its cute and charming that he knows what you like and love and remembered even the smallest details and preferences of yours. he is never greedy with his affection but sometimes it worries you.

it worries you when he feels sluggish and his mind becomes cloudy. when he pushes you away as another slump takes over him. you wonder if he just needs his alone time and sometimes thats what he needs but other times he tries to hide himself.

"please don't look at me" he says when you walk in without knocking. normally he doesn't mind but during these slumps he can't take care of himself the way he normally does. he can't help the way he feels judged when you slowly blink at him and the mess of the room. the mess he is. his hair is a mess, its been another day of not brushing his teeth, he already contemplated going back to bed with piles of clothing stacked around the room.

he pushes himself deeper under the blankets as you pad over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "baby, whats wrong?" he sinks deeper under blanket. "i'm a mess." he says miserably.

"so? you've seen how crazy i can look when i'm sick and even when i'm not." he knows that...of course he knows that he knows the cues before your depressive episodes and when to give u space and how to support you with cuddles, eating breakfast together with you on the bed and him in the chair in front of your bed.

but this isn't the same. he's supposed to help you, be considerate and know what to do. taking care of his loved ones is something he's good at, it makes him feel secure, and warm inside to see their smile, to hear their thanks and tell him he's the best.

but he can't be that and when these slumps dictate his week or weeks, he feels the shell of himself, unloveable...like a burden.

so he's been trying to hide it, to hide himself and that part of him from you. but you know, how could you not?

"akaashi i love all of you. the sleepy akaashi, the lively akaashi, the grumpy akaashi, the chatty akaashi, the silent akaashi, the anxious akaashi, the sweet akaashi, the messy akaashi, the witty akaashi." he rolled over now, head and shoulders pooking out of the futon.

you were telling the truth, a fond smile on your lips, the warmth of your words reaching your eyes. you mentioned so many different sides to him, some that he tried to hide and others that he never really thought about before.

"you do?"

he knows you aren't lying but it feels weird, rather uncanny to be appreciated without doing anything. he didn't do a single thing for you in the last few days but yet you've been making surprise breakfast for him, tidying his desk and leaving notes for him, telling him he was cute and handsome. its funny that your words made him feel handsome and better when he was well aware of the state of his appearance.

"of course I do." you stroked his futon covered limbs, itching to hold him. "you don't have to do something for me to prove your worthy of my affection."

his eyes glazed over, a silence falling as he processed your words. you rose from your place on the best, wrapping your arms around him.

so far for most of his life thats how his world would opperate. by doing favors for his parents that they didn't ask for and thus being rained with warm, doing the less desirable work for the team, even relecutantly taking on class duties when people would ask him to, even strangers knew of his innability to say no and how much he cares for others.

his previous partners rejected this side of him, annoyed with his slip ups in their routine, his messy state and coldly didn't accept his attempts to make it up to them, adding to this feeling of worthlessness that would plague him.

every time he went out of his way to make it up to you it was almost like gift exchange. with how much you crossed his mind, he crossed yours and it wasn't long before you were presenting him with stuff he liked, objects that reminded you of him, matching objects, snacks, you name it.

there were less onsided screaming matches at his house, instead hesitant conversation where you two would talk about your feelings and things you liked to be resolved. you asked that he stop trying to make it up whenever he did something wrong and he has, but he still spoils you instead with random affectionate gestures instead.

he let you hold him, fighting the strong urge to struggle out of your reach, does he smell, he feels sticky and gross and he doesn't want you to. your grip tightens, almost as if you've read his mind.

"we're here for each other keiji, i'm here for you on your rough days and your here for me, we're a team. so please don't struggle all by yourself."

right, a team. he forgot that there wasn't supposed to be an imbalance with the roles of teams. every player matters.

"I'll try." he murmurs into your shoulder and you stay like that for a bit, finally letting go to pepper his face in kisses. "i missed my cutie sooo much." why cant he realize that he's still so fine to you, regardless of how messy his appearance gets? that he's still the sweet, cool sexy individual you know, even with the mood drops, when his mental health declines.

"productivity doesn't define you! you define yourself."

"you're only human, baby." you inform him, dodging the hand trying to prevent you from kissing him. as much as he adores you, its summer and maybe staying under his blanket wasn't a good idea with the way the perspiration was sticking to his body.

"y/n please, i really need a shower, i feel disgusting". you let him settle out of the bed, helping him find clean clothes to change into.

"despite that, you're still my super sexy and handsome husband." you remind him, giggling at the blush on his face. even his sulking is cute, you think to yourself as he heads to the washroom, upset that hearing you call him sexy and husband will probably forever rile him up.

note: i might publish the same kind of fic but with reversed pov's? or might make this into a series?

[charliemwrites]

i cannot describe what keeper ghost is doing to me, i'm ready to sell all my belongings and leave my soft life to live in a crate for him

please charlie, tell me what happens when reader asks to go down on Simon but ONLY A LITTLE BIT and ONLY TO SEE IF SHE LIKES IT

Honestly same, I just wanna stop doing taxes and waking up before dawn 😭

But going down on Simon, you sayyyyyy?

You’ve been letting (demanding) Simon take care of you with his hands and mouth for weeks now. It’s your favorite pre-bedtime ritual in fact. You sleep like a rock after an orgasm or three and Simon always seems so enthusiastic to provide. (He is.)

That said, you haven’t reciprocated. Not on purpose, anyway. Sometimes while getting off on his thigh, yours will rub against his cock through his sweats. (A few times now, feeling it twitching and rock hard has been the thing to tip you over.) But mostly, intimate encounters have been one-sided and you-focused.

You’re not totally oblivious, you know he’s turned on by getting you off (which… took some time to wrap your head around but wasn’t entirely shocking either.) But again, he never pushes, suggests, asks, or even hints at wanting you to do anything. At most he’ll adjust himself and…. That’s it.

But now you want more. Simon is a private man - at least that’s the sense you get watching him interact with Johnny a couple times. It’s different with you though; he grants you liberties that you’re pretty sure would get anyone else very Murdered.

So, as is usual in your never-ending quest to stretch him to the limit, you pin him down on the couch one night, hands on his chest again. You’re sitting on him, the length of his powerful body stretched out over the cushions.

“What do you need, pretty? You want my mouth? My hands?” He asks.

You shake your head and wiggle down to perch on his thighs, palms in the hard planes of his stomach now.

“I wanna taste you,” you announce. “But don’t move. I might not like it.”

“‘Course,” he soothes, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Go ahead and explore. All yours, little one.”

You tug at his belt and zipper, nearly rip the button off his jeans. You make an annoyed noise when you struggle to get them off.

“Easy, easy,” he coos. “Let me help.”

You hmph as he sits up a bit, tilting his hips to slide them down his ass, leaving black boxers behind. He’s already tenting the fabric, a single tiny dark spot just under the elastic waistband. You bat his hands away, mumbling that you’ve got it now so move, tapping your fingers along the outline of it. It twitches beneath your touch, hot and hard.

You dip a hand in, knowing and not caring that your hands are cold. If it bothers him, Simon doesn’t show any sign. Not that you’re looking, either, it’s your playtime after all.

For a minute you just explore the shape and size it through fabric, admiring the shadow where the flared head disrupts the polyester. Then you tug the band down, eyes going moony when his cock springs up, already flushed and wet at the tip.

“Ooh it’s so big,” you murmur, talking to yourself. That Simon is there and might hear is just coincidence. “How the hell does that fit anywhere?”

You trace a fingertip along a prominent vein on the underside, following the curve. When you reach the head, a bean of precum wells up. And you have to taste it.

Simon lets out a little puff of air when you swipe your tongue over the head. Then another when dip the tip into his slit, wanting more.

“Tastes good,” you muse, pleasantly surprised.

He doesn’t respond, knows you’re not talking to him. You press your lips just under the head and hum, giggling when you feel it vibrate throughout his shaft. It feels… good. Fun. You’ve never gotten to just have your way with someone’s cock before, and never been close like this with Simon. Usually there are still plenty of layers of clothes between you too. The novelty is intoxicating.

You lick along the shaft, up and down. Little, tiny flicks of your tongue that are probably maddening. Occasionally, you tilt your head to apply gentle suction along the side, like how it flexes against your cheek.

Eventually, you make it back up to the head and rap your lips around it. Just that much feels like a lots, feels like you’re playing a dangerous game with your jaw. You won’t be taking much more than this. He’s thick.

And all the while, Simon’s little grunts and sighs and gasps are so much background noise, just like the show running forgotten on the TV. He doesn’t thrust into your mouth, or twitch, or reach for you. He never does. He just lets you have your fun in silence.

You lose track of time lavishing just the head of his cock with attention before pulling away, feeling almost sleepy from the meditative headspace you’ve fallen into.

“Mm that was fun,” you conclude. “I want to do it again sometime.”

You wander off to bed, the taste of his precum like honey lingering on your tongue.

[natsmagi]

MYSTICAL GIRLS!

[luminique]

Marks from the past

☆ wriothesley x gn!reader

☆ soft, fluff, mentions of him having scars (mainly had the one of his neck in mind) wc: 382, not proofread !

☆ wanted to write something more casual because i am sick for wriothesley. i think about kissing his scars so much. everyday, i wake up and do not see him in bed with me and i cry ╯︿╰ here is the long awaited fluff hehe (^人^)

Wriothesley and his scars that he would adamantly refuse to tell you about. Even if you persistently asked him about it, after months of being together, he wouldn’t tell you more than a silly story like he always does. Not wanting you to be worried, why should you be worried over memories that happened years ago that seemed to never fade?

“My love, you know the cause for this scar. I told you already.” He’d tell you as you both lay in bed together. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, as your finger traced down the scar.

“Mmh… perhaps a reminder is much needed.” Hearing your quiet response, he immediately let out a soft sigh. A gentle smile on his lips as he looks at you, so persistent in wanting to know.

A lightbulb clicked in his head. A tilt of your head upwards with his fingers on your chin and that handsome smirk of his. “A kiss for it. Sounds like a fair trade, don’t you think?”

It was so easy for him to exploit your love for him. Who could blame him? He’s just as in love with you as you were for him. As it goes below, so should it above. A payment for information, albeit a childish and silly one.

A sweet kiss on his lips then on his scar and he instantly loosened up. How could he resist your sweet kisses?

“Alright alright. This one was from serving my time in the Fortress. It was just from a fight to protect my vision, y’know how people can be when they see one. Power hungry, wanting control, I had to fight ‘em.” He said in a quiet tone, almost as if he was embarrassed and regretted it. Or perhaps he was reminded of that difficult time in his life. Either way, he believed you deserved to hear the truth. You were his beloved after all.

A sympathetic smile paired with another kiss on the lips from you. He deserves love after all those years. Even if he doesn’t want to remember, his body does. But he knows you’ll love him even if he was covered in scars and bruises and he’ll love you for always caring for him, even if the scar was as small as a paper cut.

©luminique do not repost or copy ! thank you so much for reading <3

[daily-basil]

I’m overjoyed to find yet another Basil fan! He’s my favorite too~

Anyway, could you draw him enjoying some tea and pastries? I feel like he really likes tea

There's no cat in the picture but in my heart he's in a cat café.

[naffeclipse]

Just realizing that the fact that there exists an “Angel Eyes” Eclipse implies the existence of either a more foreboding or comically innocent version of him called “Devil Eyes”

oh, Lumi, you just unleashed something devasting

As entertaining as a detective Eclipse would be, innocent and way in over his head when it comes to dealing with a mob boss Y/N who just so happens to find him devilishly handsome and too clever for his own good, I'm thinking of something worse than a mob boss.

As a young rookie cop, you are attempting to put out so many fires in the city. The crime rate is abysmal. The politicians are running on fumes and bribes. The police force is barely hanging on through constant corruption. Animatronics are still considered inhuman, unalive, objects to be owned and used, and disposed of. You're hoping that the laws declaring animatronic rights will pass soon.

Murders happen every single day in a city racked with gangs, crime lords, and thieves. You and a few other officers are tasked with dealing with a particular crime scene. It's not unusual for a politician to get assassinated, but there's something particularly brutal about the killing that sits in your stomach wrong—there was blood everywhere.

Then another important person gets knocked off, the carnage grisly and crimson, then another, and another. You can't shake how savage the murders are.

High-ranking officials start having you and other cops stand as bodyguards, taking them where they need to go, standing outside their meeting doors and on the street of their homes at night.

The killings keep happening. You learn of police officers who were standing watch were gutted, too. Slained just as well as the intended target.

You do your job, but you don't like it. You became a cop to help the city. This wasn't what you had in mind, much less babysitting powerful and possibly corrupted individuals that you despise.

That's how you confront him.

Late one evening, sitting in a squad car with a fellow policeman, you two keep each other awake with small talk until you hear the faintest scream. You both take off, and you take the back of the house. When you enter the gauche kitchen, there's a cook animatronic knocked to the ground. You stop to speak to the poor robot, her optics fuzzy until you offer a helping hand and get her back onto her wheels.

Before you can send her somewhere safe, a cold shudder rolls down your spine, as if someone were walking on your grave. You whirl around to find a towering figure at the far end of the room, dark and threatening. Black optics with pinpricks of electric yellow peer at you in judgment. The devilish eyes startle your soul.

You yell out commands to stop but the animatronic—you realize—doesn't head and disappears deeper into the house.

You give chase. You hear a gunshot upstairs and a shout from your partner. When you reach the second landing, you lift your gun to take aim, but a large fist clamp around your own. You fire once, hitting nothing. You're thrown against the wall, dangling by the wrists under the looming killer. Sharp rays, burgundy and royal blue, circle his face plate, splattered in bright blood.

It's too late. It's too late for the politician, it's too late for your partner, and it's too late for you.

He takes your gun and drops it far away. His staggering height gives no hope that you can fight him off, and already, he has you pinned. You simply hope that it will be quick, painless, but your heart sinks when he lifts a hand to your throat. His optics glint. You close your eyes.

A cold, slick finger tilts your chin up. He commands you to look at him, and you aversely obey. The optics scan your face. You wonder if he takes a sick pleasure from causing harm. You loathe that he most likely finds fear in your eyes but you are determined to not make a sound.

"Officer," he says in a cold, dark voice that spears your heart. He studies the badge on your chest, reading your last name etched in brass. You clench your fists, still suspended by his one large hand.

"Who are you?" you demand.

He doesn't answer. He cocks his head with a flash of sharp teeth in a metallic grin. When he drops you, you nearly crumple to the ground. You're aware of the blood underneath your chin where he had touched you. When you try to reach for your handcuffs, he's already down the stairs and out the door, fleeing the murders. Trembling, you fumble for your gun, but you find the clip gone.

The killer animatronic left you alive.

[dawnbreakersgaze]

The war has been won

The best side of me will always be with you

Shadowed from the sun

Good times or bad

I cherish all the memories I can render

And without the light of day

In the twilight, I surrender

-Light of Day, George French

I've wanted to do a Lumi edit for a very very long time, and some of you may even remember one I attempted to do on my own ages ago with a blue mask. So when they announced the Lumi outfit I was so so excited! I knew I wasn't gonna pull for it but I was sooooo grateful my dearest @rose-tinted-kalopsia did and managed to snag him. And was even kinder still to help me out by taking all these shots for me 🥰🥰🥰 so I hope you all enjoy them and use them to your hearts content!

[anartisticdreamer0]

gracias!

obrigado!

merci!

design notes:

ramón: arte said their favorite hcs were ramón with the pacman on the handkerchief and yellow scalera so i added those. little guy is needs his gloves so i made sure he got them.

dapper: has one horn to match pomme. long curly hair. their color scheme is very similar to bbh.

pomme: poofy skirt that i imagine as a red velvet color. star freckles, wing ears which you can’t see, and lil antenna. duo colored tail and one horn to match dapper. she’s writing her next story <3

[po-cky-o-o]

Some of my thoughts while going through the Scara quest ✨

“Keep your pretty eyes open”

Oh? So you admit you find her eyes pretty mister wanderer??

Oooo so now we have confirmed that Scara does know abt Lumi not being from Teyvat and he has looked into her

Also celebrity Lumine is real you guys. I bet there are a bunch of Lumi stans running loose around Teyvat XD

He’s so desperate 😭😭

Just say you wanna be her (boy)friend and go

ASHZAHAHSHHSHS$&$&@$!&&!

Can’t believe they jumped straight into the hand holding 🫣

Oh cool, so they can still use that bond whenever they touch each other

(This gives me so many fic ideas, I’m about to lose it)

Let me tell you I was SHOOK when I saw this new version of Scara, but I couldn’t stop laughing at this scene

The way Lumi is just staring at him like “hun, you have no idea”, while Scara is doing the puppy eyes XD

Scara thinks he is only worthy as long as he is useful

I think Lumi can also relate to that, since she is always running around helping everyone else

I hope together they can learn they don’t have to be useful to be worth of love

[starteas]

Consumer of light 🔶

[mxmoth]

DEXTER LUMIS and CHAD GABLE on WWR RAW | 8-5-24

[natsmagi]

no way.................

[thereisabearonmyceiling]

this week's headlines!

big thanks to @shiroselia for coming up with most of the text

[illumiera]

today, I'm possessed with the Sudden Urge to ramble about my Miraak's Dibella worship.

I think the Moth would have been an important deity to the Atmorans—Queen of Heaven, goddess of beauty, art, music, pleasure, romantic love, and in my headcanon, language, prophecy to some extent, rebirth, and all that is lovely in creation. to them, and to many modern worshippers in Tamriel, she is the one who painted the sunsets, the one who made the afterlives beautiful, restful places, and the one who brings the land to life in spring.

imagine you're a young boy named Mimir, and wherever you go, you're surrounded by song. you were born in spring, when the land begins to thaw—Dibella's time, when the leanness of winter begins to ease. imagine you face death one day, falling into a frozen river, and you vaguely remember being saved by someone so lovely, it could only have been Dibella herself, or so you think. you wake up warm and dry at the outskirts of your village, and you live another day.

imagine you're a young man without a name. well, the cult stripped 'Mimir' away from you and address you only as yuvonhadrozaal sen (golden-braided one) or dovaar (dragonkind-servant or dragonkind-slave), and it'll be a few years yet before you're given a mask and named Miraak. you wear a veil that covers your face, and to show anybody that face would be to sentence the two of you to death.

so what do you do? not far from Bromjunaar, there's a hidden grove where Dibella's worshippers go to play and sing and pray and dance. you steal a lute, sneak out of the temple, and for a few hours by moonlight, you get to hear the sound of your own voice singing of things that aren't the might of the dragons. your fingers are quick to remember the songs your mother once taught you on her own lute. when dawn is close, you bury your stolen lute and sneak back, knowing that for a few brief hours, you were free.

when you're named Miraak, there's no time for singing. you belong to the dragons now, whole and entire, and can worship no other—but you're a rebel at heart, so you continue to braid your hair and have the belt of your robes fashioned into the shape of a moth.

a woman with the wings of a dragon saves you from death and visits you in your dreams. she looks a lot like the statue you've carved of Dibella, the one you keep in the breast pocket of your robes at all times, but the woman you call Kundruniik, light-bringer, is an ardent follower of Mara, the Wolf-Mother. nonetheless, in your dreams, the two of you sit beneath the heavens hung with a thousand stars, in a meadow that looks to be in eternal spring, and you wonder if your goddess had a hand in any of it.

four thousand years later, it's another spring. you die, because Hermaeus Mora wouldn't have allowed your story to end any other way—but the Last Dragonborn, Kundruniik, your light-bringer, Elentari, has different plans. it's spring, and you return to life just as Dibella is returning Nirn to life. the heavens you get to stand beneath are the realest thing you've seen in four ages of the world.

in short, I think Dibella means a lot to Miraak. more than Kyne, even. no wonder I call him Mothraak...