#furry warning

Hello everyone… There is an account @quietcyclonemask run by very suspicious person. From July 2025 this person keeps asking minors for NSFW and fetish arts… openly insults people, wishes death, says “choke and die”, “fuck you”, etc. Also orders custom explicit art on DeviantArt using own nickname.

Important: many characters he asks to draw naked or in fetish situations are clearly underage (for example cartoon characters from BFDI/TPOT, object shows, Sonic, Mario and others who are canonically children or teens). He doesn’t care at all.

This is not just troll. Even when someone directly says “I’m 16” or “I’m underage”, he doesn’t stop. He continues asking in public posts and, I think, in private messages too. In my opinion he is either super bad troll or 100 % adult freak (probably 20+).

There are many people like this… Please, please block and report them immediately. Do not fall for their fake kindness or provocations, they only want to use you. This post is mostly for minor artists and for those who still have hard time spotting these freaks…

It really hurts me to see such people living on the internet, ruining the sites and the whole artist community… Fetish is fetish, but drawing sexual things of child/teen characters and asking minors to do it is way too far.

you’ll wish you never asked that

Hahaha I love how this idiot cries like has done nothing wrong.

The weretiger’s feral scenting was both a blessing and a curse. Of course, his to have heightened senses is his nature; it is used to hunt, used to seek—even used to stray away from danger and ultimately survive. But when solace is found and shelter is safe, comfort is just as treacherous as to be left alone, there was only Zaraan’s scent; one of summer even ember and most specially his musk. The tiger couldn’t help but give a low purr of a growl as the scent filled his senses and bloomed somewhere within his core—one that coaxed his furred brawn to squirm against the warm lush of their sheets. He was careful to not scratch along the fabrics, but he grasped at it just the same—he couldn’t help it; the drowning scent was coaxing him into need that he growled on more as he finally gave their bed a little buck. And another. His fleshy globes swelling and bunching as he found his ease in such rhythmic pressure.

Muzzle buried, warm breath caressed his face and the pillow while his body continued on to burn and demand—that with another purr, he reached down and wagged his tail away; all to expose his tiny pucker that he started to gently rub with the pad of his thick paw.