#my wrists are burning tbh 🥲😭😭😭😭

[mahodo]

The mermaid melody brain worms are back in full swing

[aller-geez]

Hello 👋. I'm one of your followers (from Ukraine). I just want to say that your art is a one of the rays of positivity in this hard times.

Firstly I would like to say thank you for your art (and especially for last "KRexar" fics, it's super duper cute 🫠).

Tbh I feel that it's kinda unfair to do a requests (even if you enjoy drawing your OC's) especially after you posted so much amazing content, so it feels for me as a some kind of exploiting you😅... It's just a moment of my sillyness, but now I can't stop from thinking about sneezy Kria in some kind of old school/gothic dress (maybe a gift from somebody from the Fang family or something)😅

Hey there Nonny!

Oh my gawd, this is single-handedly the sweetest thing I’ve ever had someone say to me 😭

thank you so much, that seriously means the world to me, you actually have no idea 🥲🥲

I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying my Krexar fluff lately, they have been giving me a will to live with thier sickeningly sweet relationship~

As far as your request, I love love loved this idea so I may have drawn it, and wrote a little Drabble for you to imagine it~

I hope this is what you were looking for! 🥰

The dress was exquisite.

A deep wine-red, lined with intricate black lace, cinched at the waist with a silk corset that made Kriia feel more regal than she ever had in her life. Zeraphine had insisted on gifting it to her, cooing about how darling she’d look in something more befitting the Fang estate’s grandeur. And honestly? Kriia didn’t disagree.

Which was exactly why she was weaving through the labyrinth of hallways, determined to find Rexar and show him.

The problem?

The estate was ancient, enormous, and most of it sat unused for weeks, sometimes months, between visits from the family. Which meant dust. So much dust.

She barely noticed it at first, too focused on tracking down her boyfriend, but after walking through the third room—its tall bookshelves lined with untouched, dust-laden tomes—her nose started to prickle.

Then twitch.

Then burn.

She sniffled softly, pressing her wrist beneath her nose as she ducked into another parlor, her heels clicking against the polished wood. "Rex?" she called, voice already tinged with congestion.

No answer.

She huffed through her nose—an immediate mistake. The movement stirred the dust coating her sinuses, the tickle suddenly flaring to life, sharp and relentless. She barely had time to inhale before the sneezes exploded out of her.

"Nnch! Nkch! Ktch! Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!! Nngch!"

Her body jolted forward with every release, the dress fluttering around her legs as she clutched at the doorframe for balance. God, it wasn’t stopping.

"H’tshhkt!! —ngsh! H’NgXt! Hh‘gsch! "

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. The fit was coming so fast she could barely breathe between sneezes, let alone move.

And then—

"Babygirl?"

The voice was warm, affectionate, and full of poorly hidden amusement.

Through watery eyes, she saw Rexar striding toward her, his massive frame silhouetted against the dim corridor, his grey-red eyes glowing softly.

Relief flooded her chest—right before another desperate sneeze snapped her forward.

"Ngt’chh! hptt’CH! h’gTShhHh! hiIh’nG-kT—-!!"

"Aw, princess," Rexar chuckled, finally reaching her. "You okay?"

Kriia sniffled miserably, rubbing at her nose, but it only made the tickle worse. She let out a weak, whiny noise, pressing her face against his chest. "So much dust," she rasped.

Rexar huffed a quiet laugh, his molten gaze full of nothing but fond amusement, then—without thinking, without hesitation—he lifted a warm, calloused hand, pressing his fingers firmly over Kriia’s quivering nostrils, pinching off the lingering tickle before it could consume her again.

The moment his touch sealed off any chance of relief, Kriia gasped sharply against his palm, a desperate, stuttering inhale that sent a visible shudder down her spine. Her lashes fluttered, hazy and unfocused, her fevered gaze tipping up to meet his with an expression so helplessly breathless it nearly sent a thrill through him.

For a second—just a second—Rexar could feel the tickle fighting against his intervention, could feel the way her delicate nose twitched beneath his fingers, the faintest, trembling flares against his grip as her body instinctively tried to force out another sneeze.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t loosen his hold.

He simply kept his fingers pressed firm and steady, grounding, anchoring, offering a stillness that slowly—finally—tamed the wild, desperate irritation burning in her sinuses.

Kriia exhaled through parted lips, a slow, trembling sigh, her whole body sagging against him like he had physically held her together through the overwhelming fit.

The relief that rolled through her was so visceral, so palpable, that she barely had the strength to keep herself upright, her body molding against his solid chest.

Rexar’s fingers lingered a second longer, just to be sure, before his touch finally softened, thumb brushing once against the bridge of her nose before pulling away entirely.

"Better?" he murmured, voice low, rough with lingering amusement.

Kriia hummed, barely moving as she replaced his hand with her own, keeping her nose pinched shut. She gave her nose a delicate squeeze, as if ensuring the tickle wouldn’t come back the second she let go.

"Thank you," she mumbled. Then, sniffly and hoarse—"Now, let’s get out of here before I get started agai—hh!—"

Her breath hitched sharply at the end, betraying her completely.

Rexar grinned, utterly smitten. "Bless you, babygirl," he drawled, already steering her out of the room before her nose could object any further.