Nyan Cat Nyan Novels & Stories

Kitty. The tip of the tongue pushes into the incisors twice, giving birth to the rhythm of her name. Like one of her bells jingling. Kitty. A drop of Metaxa on the lips. Two steps up the stairs to heaven. Ki-i-itti... It's like you're beckoning a wayward cat. Will he give a stroke or scratch his hands? Kitty. A syllable for each of her men. Two steps up the stairs to hell.

“Is this how you were supposed to talk to me, nya?” “Forgive my behaviour.” The Fenrir willingly lowered its head. This misfortune cat… is on a higher level. But… …it’s so cute. Realizing that I’m staring at it, the misfortune cat then stared at me. “Nya…? You seemed eager to touch me, human.” It murmured. “Very well, I will let you touch me if you aren’t afraid of death—” “Gladly…!” “—NYAA…!!?”

Nayla is one of those people who wakes up easily even though she only hears small voices. “Nayla!!” Call someone whose voice is very familiar to Nayla’s ears. Reluctantly, Nayla got out of bed. “Hoaamm ...,” Nayla yawned while rubbing her eyes. She was still very sleepy. “Naylaaaa...!!” When the door opened, there were two creatures who were smiling broadly with their arms outstretched, standing in front of Nayla. “Uhh, dear. Just woke up, huh,” with her god-level exaggeration, Fanny pinched Nayla’s cheek with excitement, then hugged her.

I was fighting the urge to run up those stairs into Lance’s apartment and nuzzle into his neck. “Hi…I’m Nyah!” She smiles at us both in a confident manner. And she had every reason to be confident, she had deep glowing skin, orange hair, green eyes, was of a typical she-wolf build, tall and slim, and a beautiful smile that I’m sure melted hearts back at her pack. “Hi Nyah, this is Blake and I am Aida!” I warmly shake her hand before sitting down on my bed. “How was your journey here?” I ask removing my muddy trainers.

I said with a little whisper to Nay. "They think you don't know your magic, so they want to tell you the truth. But you already know everything," he answered while walking towards me. "Ahaha I already realized that while training, wait a minute! Where's Oyen!? How could I forget!? He always accompanies me to practice in the Goromo mountains!" I panicked when I realized I had forgotten my little cat. "Sorry honey," Nay said making me panic more. "He what!?" "Come on follow me." Nay took my hand and teleported. A room surrounded by enormous roots, there was a kind of energy ball in the middle of the room. My orange cat has been under an energy ball of enormous size.

She could feel that word in her bones just by his existence. Ollie cut the staring and brought her eyes down to her dress and cleared her throat. She righted herself and slipped her hands off the post. She pushed a smile on her face, lifted her head and stepped up. She hoped she didn't look as pathetic as she felt. She hoped she didn't look as scared as she felt. They were werewolves, not animals. They wouldn't eat her for dinner any time soon. "Good Morning Mr Bridge," She forced out of lips and pushed her hand out to the man, " I'm Ollie Clan, the nanny,"

I replied, kissing my cat's head. "What's the name of your cat?" We both turned to Nanay Emily whose eyes shine in amusement. She has a tray full of pancakes in her hands. "She named her cat 'Pussy' Nanay Emily. My goodness, can you imagine that? She just gave a very beautiful Persian cat a stinky name!" The old woman laughed at his statement. "Hey, shut up! She likes it though, right Pussy?" I rubbed her neck and she let out a small meow. "See? She likes it!"

"It's better he does it out here than by throwing your silver decorations at my face." Matteo looked out at his nephew, his features completely still. "Julian told me you spent the morning organizing the laundry room for those animals." "They're cats, Mr. Alcantara. They have names," I corrected him, pulling my legs up onto the bench and crossing them. "The orange one is Nacho, the gray one is Smokey, and the little chaotic one is Biscuit. You should try memorizing them. It’s good for your brain."

Then she looked at Nyra, sprawled across the kitchen floor like the queen of the house—elegant, huge, and dangerously calm. Dolores swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure what was worse: following the ill-tempered cowboy, or staying alone with the “giant cat.” “Something tells me she’s not that sweet…” she whispered. As if she understood perfectly, Nyra opened one eye slowly—an intense yellow eye that seemed to peer straight into anyone’s soul. She stared at Dolores silently, with feline superiority, as if judging the woman’s courage. Then, with zero concern, Nyra dropped her head back down and made a low sound—something between a growl and a grunt, like a: Hmm!

“Anyway… what’s your name, human?” “Keira,” I said quietly, brushing my thumb over its feathery ear. “What’s yours?” It cracked one eye open. “Hm. Good question. I’ve never needed a name before. But since you insist… call me Nylo.” “Nylo…” I repeated softly. “That’s… cute.” Its eyes snapped open, glaring at me. “I am not cute. I am ferocious and terrifying.” “Of course you are,” I giggled, hugging it closer.