Nyenlover69 - Nyenlover69

Despite their human appearances i think the catmen might have a lot more cat tendencies. like you know how cats are wiggly when you pick them up like noodles or something??? thats how they are. like imagine Nyon laying down on the floor and Luther tries to pick him up to move him and he got really long like a cat getting picked up. Aint that cute??? And we saw Nyen flatten his ears when he was freaked out in the haunted house like a cat you know aww thats so cute 🥰🥰

I 100% love and support this theory, and I'm convinced it's canon now.

Thank you for blessing the fandom with this adorable fact. <3

"𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙰𝙽"

✮⋆˙ Nyon X reader !!

! cw: Romance, kissing? Not much!!

! Ao3: Nyenlover69!

! Pairings: You and Nyon, obviously!

Summary: Getting sleep in the ivory household is hard with all the noise. During a restless night you try to find comfort in a certain someone. NOTE: Я тебя люблю means I love you!

The house was never truly quiet, but at least it had its quieter moments. Moments where the usual chaos faded into something softer, where only the steady chime of Luther’s old, “decorative” grandfather clock remained.

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

Hours of tossing and turning, annoyed groans, and the faint screeching from down the hall had left you restless. It was bad enough being trapped in this hellhole, forced to sleep on a torn beanbag, but now, you couldn’t even get a decent night’s rest.

You were used to Randal’s late-night screaming, but tonight, it was impossible to ignore. The sudden burst of cursing, followed by the unmistakable thud of something hitting the wall, probably another failed round of whatever game he was playing, jolted you fully awake.

Sighing, you rolled onto your side, pulling the blanket over your head in a weak attempt to drown out the noise. It didn’t help. The house was always too loud when you wanted silence, too quiet when you actually needed the noise.

“What the hell do I do now?”

The thought lingered, heavy with exhaustion. With another sigh, you forced yourself upright, peeling yourself off the beanbag chair and onto unsteady feet.

The old wooden floorboards groaned under your weight as you trudged forward, mindlessly drifting toward Nyon and Nyen’s shared bedroom. Randal’s shouting faded into nonsense (if it wasn’t already) as you carefully avoided the endless trinkets scattered across the dark hallways.

<3

After what felt like forever, your shaky hand finally reached for the worn-down doorknob, its cold metal surface pressing against your palm. Before you even registered what you were doing, you had already nudged the door open, peering cautiously into the shared bedroom.

The pungent scent of cigarette smoke and dust clung to the air, thick and suffocating. The room was an absolute mess—heaps of laundry were strewn across the floor, no doubt belonging to Nyen. You carefully stepped forward, scanning the room, your eyes landing on the bunk beds.

Nyon’s was empty.

The realization settled in slowly, a quiet, unexpected weight in your chest. The sheets were untouched, neatly folded, as if he hadn’t been there all night.

From the top bunk, a loud, obnoxious snore broke the silence.

You flinched, turning just in time to see Nyen sprawled out like he owned the place, one arm dangling lazily over the edge, face half-buried in his pillow. Another snore rattled through the air, followed by an unconscious grumble. Of course, he’d sleep through Randal’s yelling with all that snoring to cover it up.

You understood why he left immediately.

Your attention snapped back to the empty bed below. If Nyon wasn’t here… where was he?

<3

All you wanted was to sleep and maybe talk to the only person you felt comfortable around in this house, but life had other plans I guess.

Slowly, you navigated through the incomprehensible maze of winding hallways, past the creaking floorboards and eerie shadows that stretched along the walls. The house felt endless at night, shifting and restless. After what felt like an eternity, you finally reached the front door.

A breath of fresh air. That’s all you need right now.

The door creaked faintly as you pushed it open, stepping onto the worn, half-faded welcome mat. A soft breeze brushed against your skin, the cool night air offering a rare moment of relief. Moonlight casts long shadows across the porch, illuminating the old wooden planks beneath your feet.

Silence, at last.

You inhaled deeply, expecting the crisp scent of pine and damp earth, the way the forest always smelled at night.

Instead, all you could smell was…smoke??

The vague scent curled faintly through the air, lingering, replacing what should have been fresh and calming. You turned your head, and that’s when you saw him.

Hunched against the far end of the porch, perched on a weakened wooden bench, Nyon sat still—motionless, yet unmistakably aware of you. His usual slouched posture made him blend into the night, almost disappearing into the flickering shadows cast by the porch lights. (Note: imagine his wide-eyed ass staring at u that’s SCARYY 😭😭)

You hadn’t even noticed him at first.

But he had noticed you.

<3

The faint glow of his MP3 player screen reflected in his tired eyes, the dim light flickering against the deep red circles beneath them. His head was bowed slightly, gaze unreadable, but you could feel the moment his attention shifted to you.

You hesitated.

Something about him looked… uneasy. Not in the way he usually was—quiet, awkward, keeping to himself—but tense. Like he hadn’t expected to be caught.

For a second, you considered leaving. You weren’t sure if he wanted company, and you felt bad for intruding. However, before you could decide, his eyes flickered up fully, locking onto yours—wide, surprised, unsure. And then, just as quickly, he looked away.

<3

“I… I’m sorry. Should I… er… leave you be?” you whispered under your breath, your voice barely audible over the swift hum of the wind.

At the sound of your voice, Nyon stiffened, his shoulders rising just slightly, his grip tightening over his knees as if bracing for something. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, his body tense like a startled animal caught in the open. Then, slowly, hesitantly, his fingers loosened, his posture shifting ever so slightly as if willing himself to relax.

“…No. You may stay,” he murmured, barely above a breath.

His voice was steadier than his body. Even in the dim porch light, you could see the way his hands curled and uncurled against the fabric of his jeans, the way his breath came just a little uneven like he was focusing too hard on keeping it steady. Without looking at you, he shifted to the side, making the smallest amount of space. Not quite an invitation, but not a rejection either?

You hesitated, glancing at the newly opened space beside him. Was he… letting you sit with him? Was that for you?

Before your thoughts could catch up, exhaustion won over hesitation. Your legs moved on their own, carrying you forward until the old wooden bench creaked beneath your weight. The sound cut through the stillness, sharp and splintering, and you felt him react beside you, fingers twitching nervously.

You weren’t even that close, yet you could feel him go rigid, almost like he was caught between instinct and thought, unsure whether to lean into the moment or escape it entirely. He shifted ever so slightly, barely an inch, a quiet retreat assuredly, but not far enough to push you away.

The silence stretched, and for a while, neither of you moved.

Then, after what felt like forever, he exhaled quietly, as if he had just made up his mind about something, before finally parting his lips to speak.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, voice low, distant, like the question had been lingering in his mind long before you arrived.

He still wouldn’t look at you. His eyes stayed fixed on the cigarette butt smashed against the porch floor, his gaze unfocused, like he was staring through it instead of at it. You watched as his fingers flexed against his knee as if they needed something to hold onto but had nothing to reach for.

You opened your mouth to answer—then paused. Instead of a response, all you did was move closer.

It was only then, in the dim, flickering porch light, that you noticed his face, half-lit by the glow, held the faintest trace of color. The tips of his ears, the curve of his cheekbone, just barely tinged pink.

He was blushing.

And you moved even closer.

<3

The space between you shrank, just enough that you could feel the faint tremor in his body, and hear the glitchy, muffled music spilling from his earbuds. The closer you got, the more you noticed—the way his hands started shaking aggressively against his lap, the uneven rise and fall of his chest as if he was trying too hard to keep his breathing steady.

Frankly, it was getting awkward.

What were you supposed to do? Say something? Pretend you didn’t notice how nervous he was.

You hesitated before finally breaking the silence.

“…I can leave if you want. No hard feelings,” you murmured, voice softer than you intended.

For a moment, nothing. No response, just the quiet hum of the night and the flickering porch light casting unsteady shadows over his face.

You took that as a yes.

Just as you started to push yourself up, a hand shot out, grabbing yours. Not rough. Not forceful. But desperately, softly.

His fingers curled lightly around yours, hesitant, uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you but couldn’t let you go, either.

“…Please stay out here with me.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, unsteady in a way that tightened your chest. You sat back down, closer this time, your hands still entwined together. After a few more moments of silence, he spoke up.

<3

“Would.. you like to… listen with me?”

Nyon’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. His fingers fumbled slightly with the MP3 player before he finally glanced at you, his soft red-rimmed eyes meeting yours for only a second before flickering away.

Even in the dim light, you could see the heat rising to his cheeks.

You smiled, tilting your head. “You didn’t have to ask, dummy.”

His breath hitched slightly, but he still reached out, pressing an earbud into your palm. His fingertips brushed against yours for barely a second before he pulled away, gripping the cord so tightly it might’ve popped.

The sound quality was terrible. Extremely. It was horrendous. Static-filled and distorted, the lyrics are barely recognizable. You had no idea what the song was, but honestly? You didn’t care.

The warmth of his shoulder was more distracting. You glanced at him again. He was staring straight ahead, unmoving, his face still flushed.

God, he was cute.

Maybe it was the way his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Maybe it was how he kept stealing tiny glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

You smirked. You were too tired to think over what you were even saying at this point.

“You know…” you murmured, voice low, teasing, “You’re kind of cute when you get all nervous like this.”

His breath caught in his throat.

His fingers twitched, and before he could stop himself, his arm moved, slow, hesitant, but this time, with purpose.

You felt the weight of it settle around your shoulders, his touch gentle but firm, like he was still expecting you to pull away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned into him, your head lightly resting against his shoulder. His breath came slower now, steadier, though you swore you could still feel his heart racing beneath his skin.

For a moment, he stayed quiet. Then, barely above a whisper—so soft you almost missed it—

“…You’re the cute one.”

The warmth of his arm tightened around you, holding you just a little closer.

And under the quiet hum of static and song, the night faded into something softer.

You gazed up at the moonlit sky, exhaling deeply, grateful that through all this chaos, you had something—no, someone—who could give you the quiet you needed. The soft silver glow bathed the world in light, illuminating the stillness, and when you turned your head, you saw it—the same glow catching the edges of Nyon’s face, highlighting the warmth in his quiet, lingering stare.

And for a while, you looked back down into the endless abyss of the night sky. The stars above twinkled like scattered dust, flickering in ways that felt almost familiar. They were cold, like shattered glass, but soft—soft like a whisper against skin.

A sky full of stars.

And he was looking at you.

A quiet warmth bloomed in your chest, one you couldn’t name, one you didn’t have to. You shifted closer, pressing yourself into the crook of his neck.

You felt his entire body tense, his breath catching in his throat, but he didn’t move away. He just sat there, stiff and warm and unsure, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. But you did.

He was soft. He was comforting. And he was the first thing in this house that had ever made you feel at peace. You turned your head slightly, eyes tracing over his face—the sharp angles, the way his lips parted slightly, the nervous flicker in his gaze as he refused to look at you.

His breath was uneven. His fingers twitched at his side, flexing and clenching like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“…Nyon.”

At the sound of his name, he stilled. Completely.

Slowly, you leaned in—closer, closer, so close your noses almost brushed.

That got his attention.

His wide, red-ringed eyes finally darted to yours, pupils slightly enlarged, his face burning like a fever beneath the soft glow of the porch light.

You swore he wasn’t even breathing.

God, he looked so cute like this. Frozen, wide-eyed, lips barely parted, as if he wanted to say something—beg for something—but couldn’t.

You smiled. You leaned in closer and closer till your lips were mere centimeters away from each other. You could feel his grip on your hand tighten as he pulled you closer to him, almost as if he’d lose you if he didn’t.

And then you kissed him.

It was quick, barely even a second, a soft press of lips that left him completely wrecked.

You pulled back just enough to see his face—his breath shaky, his face blushed a bright red, and his body practically trembling.

For a long moment, he just stared at you, eyes looking at you with such an adoration before slowly pulling you back into a kiss.

You chuckled, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck like nothing happened.

“You’re cute.”

He made some kind of strangled sound in response, but you were already drifting off, letting the warmth of him pull you under.

<3

Sleep was already pulling at you, dragging you down into its quiet embrace. You barely heard it when he whispered, voice low and uncertain—

“Are you… awake?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. You were already half-drifting, the sound of his unsteady breath mixing with the quiet crackle of music.

His arm tightened around you, his grip firmer, protective.

For a long moment, nothing.

Then, as soft as the moonlight, he murmured into the stillness—

“Я тебя люблю.”

In regards of the Trump government scraping all trans inclusion in its queer information portion of its websites I have made this thing. Spread the word. Don't let them pretend we never existed.

P.S: Don't like! Reblog! <3

EDIT: Well this got a lot of attention! I got a few users asking to print or repost my art and I am unimaginably grateful to everyone's interest, especially since it's a really simple drawing I made on a whim haha! Anyone who is looking to print these out to hang or hand out or repost on another platform is free to do so, although I ask you to credit me and let people know it's from my Tumblr profile! If anyone wishes to do anything else with my art or post and wants to clarify what I consent to then they can message me privately and I'll explain! <333 all my love to my queer siblings

EDIT: I made an LGBTQIA+ version with a focus on trans and intersex folks, it's on my pinned if you prefer this version of the acronym.

One of my fantasies is that Nyen rips out my guts and eats them, in soup or raw ;3;

— Maso Anon (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Freaky? Check. Originality? Debatable.

This one barely registers on the Confession Richter Scale anymore.

ill hunt you down forever & ever & ever

Doodles

i think the creator of the blog is probably so silly and fun! my headcanon is that nyen has the thickest juiciest 🐓 ever! like BIG BIG like huge...not in length but in thickness

-🍊 anon

Thank you very much, that's what I aim for!