How Hakuouki Fandom Provides Sanctuary for Real Harassers
September 18, 2025
I am an indirect victim of this incident. I was wrongly accused of being Autumn’s alternate account, and Hakuouki Zine revoked Autumn’s contributor status because of my public advocacy. Because of this incident, I lost my reputation, friendships, trust, and sense of security within the community. I have the right to hold the parties involved accountable.
The authenticity of my article is not determined by AI. If Medium staff find this inappropriate, I sincerely invite them to go to my Tumblr blog and watch how these whistleblowers united to humiliate me with vicious language.
All data comes from the public comments made by the parties on Tumblr regarding the relevant events. I will not, now or in the future, invade anyone’s private space under the pretext of defending their rights, including the person I am reporting on.
All articles can be viewed and downloaded via the following links:
HTML: Double Standards and Opaque Governance in the Hakuouki Zine
HTML: The Harasser’s Umbrella: How the Hakuouki Zine Shielded Onino While Silencing Victims
HTML: From Rumor to “Official Backing”: How the Zine Mod, Onino, and Ladyyomi Coordinated Against Me
HTML: Autumn’s Strategy: Avoidance Disguised as Neutrality
AGAIN: The person who participated in the Hakuouki zine project and later had their contributor status revoked was Autumn, not me. However, I was falsely accused of being Autumn’s sockpuppet. I have only been defending myself against this false claim. From start to finish, I had no involvement in that zine project. The only reason I spoke out is because some of its members later joined in the harassment against me, and because of Autumn’s past connections with them.
The Hakuouki Zine employed so-called “invitation-only” rules and “qualifications” to set up barriers, excluding those deemed unfit, while its members simultaneously engaged in external disparagement and harassment of these individuals. This constitutes a mechanism of social exclusion. For the copyright holder, Idea Factory, such practices amount to an abuse of brand reputation.
The Fall of Hakuouki Fandom
Hakuouki is a 17-year-old Japanese otome franchise once celebrated for its romanticized portrayal of the Shinsengumi’s “wolfish spirit.” But today, that same spirit has been twisted—into a rallying cry for harassment, a mechanism of ideological cleansing, and a fandom structure where bullies thrive under the guise of loyalty.
This image below shows how Hakuouki zine contributors and harassment accounts operate within the same social structure, normalized through mutual endorsement.
This post shows how “AI discourse” is weaponized to harass and exclude me from the fandom. The hate account @anti-ygpgsgl-widemushroom-show mocks my name, discredits my writing as “fake inflated hits,” and calls me a “talentless hack” simply for using AI. That alone would be cruel—but what’s worse is that Hakuouki zine contributors like LightMelodyVA and vicecommanderhijikata publicly endorse it.
It’s fine if people have different preferences or don’t like AI-assisted work. But when those preferences turn into targeted hostility against one kind of creator, repeated in public and rewarded with approval, it crosses a line. This isn’t just fandom discourse anymore—it’s coordinated exclusion.
Worse still, several of the harassers took to flaunting their collections of Hakuouki merchandise and game editions—competing to prove who is the “truest fan.” One zine mod who participated in the harassment campaign even stated, “I want to make her feel jealous,” as if causing emotional harm was part of their fandom pride.
The Hakuouki fandom is saturated with a toxic culture of loyalty performance—where fans compete over merchandise collections, signal mutual allegiance, and define one’s worth through proximity to zine organizers or early fan status. In such an environment, harassers act with impunity, knowing that as long as they play by the fandom’s internal hierarchy, their violence will be tolerated—if not outright rewarded.
These images show the absurd scale of merchandise hoarding presented as proof of fandom loyalty. But beyond the rows of game boxes and keychains lies something far uglier: a belief that material collection grants moral superiority and the right to exclude others.
In their eyes, owning a dozen game editions makes them “real fans.” In mine, it's a child's performance of power—a fantasy of control built from plastic and packaging, weaponized against anyone who dares exist differently.
They may have amassed shelves of Hakuouki merch—game editions, posters, mugs, acrylic stands—but what will remain of it? Eventually, it all fades, breaks, and gets swept into the recycling bin. Their sense of “fandom superiority” is built not on thought or creativity, but on plastic and packaging. The tragedy is not that they collected too much—but that they mistook possession for value, and used it to police others.
The Sodom of Fandom: When Pirates and Harassers Collude
Salty Neo: The Origin of Violence
Salty Neo may not have been directly involved with the zine project itself, but she nonetheless orchestrated the social ecosystem that empowered and protected its most violent participants—through her timing, her silence, her curated omissions, and her selective amplifications.
She didn’t have to issue the orders; she simply framed Autumn, allowed the false narrative to take root, watched as I became its target, and chose not to speak. Instead, she produced posts laced with mockery and derision, declaring me “not welcome,” while nourishing every lie with her likes, her shares, and her conspicuous silence—each passive gesture functioning as a tacit endorsement of my continued humiliation. She didn’t build the gallows, but she handed them the rope. Without her, this would never have escalated into the coordinated assault it became.
Evidence 1: Summary of Salty Neo's Statements and Actions in August
She is not simply complicit. She is the architecture of harm—quiet, deliberate, foundational. And worse: she is a self-admitted copyright violator who repeatedly distributed pirated game materials while claiming moral high ground.
She did not “accidentally” cross a line—she mapped the line, walked it, and invited others to follow. She hijacked both legal boundaries and emotional boundaries, manipulating fandom platforms while masquerading as a victim of the very mechanisms she helped institutionalize.
Her actions were not impulsive; they were methodical. Not reactive, but strategic. And above all, they were devastatingly effective—because they masqueraded as passive, even when they were anything but.
The Seven Deadly Sins of the Fandom
1. Pride
They weaponized “fandom credentials” to gatekeep—hoarding merch, signed goods, rare zines—as if financial access equaled moral authority. Their pride wasn’t in the work itself, but in their power to exclude people like me. Their “qualifications” were not about sincerity, but humiliation.
“You didn’t buy the limited edition? Then you have no right to speak.”
They weren’t proud of the game. They were proud of the wall they built to keep me out.
2. Envy
They claimed “no one cares about me,” yet dug through every ygpgsgl account I’ve ever touched.
They said I was irrelevant, yet hoarded my screenshots, stalked my writing, and repeated my name like a curse.
What they envied wasn’t fame or reach—it was my refusal to submit, my ability to stand alone, to keep speaking.
The louder they denied my significance, the more they revealed their obsession.
3. Wrath
They accused me—falsely—of being Autumn’s sockpuppet.
They distorted my words, tracked my history, misgendered me, mocked my illness.
They didn’t want a conversation. They wanted me erased.
Their hatred wasn’t a reaction. It was a campaign.
Their wrath wasn’t random. It was deliberate. Ritualistic. Justified by shared cruelty.
4. Greed
They pirated CGs, games, and voice lines. They reprinted and resold without shame.
They turned zines into gatekeeping machines—projects that demanded silence in exchange for participation.
They hoarded clout and control, while treating anyone outside their circle as disposable.
Even the game they claimed to love was just a currency—something to mine, brandish, and weaponize.
5. Gluttony
They devoured everything I said, not to understand, but to weaponize.
They combed through my words, connected unrelated posts, built conspiracies out of my existence.
I wasn’t content to them—I was fuel. A spectacle. A target.
They weren’t curious. They were insatiable—for drama, for destruction, for dominance.
6. Lust (Not desire—degradation)
They wrote smut parodies about me.
They called me a sex doll.
They said they wanted to “fuck my entire bloodline.”
This wasn’t about desire—it was about control.
They used sexual language not to arouse, but to silence.
To reduce me into an object. To punish me for speaking.
To strip me of my humanity.
When they couldn’t silence my ideas, they tried to desecrate my body.
7. Sloth – Intellectual Sloth
They weren’t lazy in effort. They were lazy in thought.
They refused to read. Refused to understand.
Clung to binaries—AI = bad, dissent = evil.
They mocked nuance, feared ambiguity, and built their identities on mob consensus.
They chose simplicity over truth, cruelty over complexity.
And in doing so, forfeited any right to speak of morality.
They turned their fandom into a Sodom of self-righteous violence, where mockery replaced dialogue, where harassment was culture, where I was not just excluded — I was dehumanized.
When someone openly celebrates “surviving” death threats they fabricated, rebrands their involvement in coordinated harassment as an “achievement,” and writes it into their public bio for clout—what they’re doing is not defense, it’s myth-making. And I refuse to let them write history in my place.
What Should Idea Factory Do Now
As of September 11, I have submitted a full documentation package to Idea Factory International and EastAsiaSoft, detailing the copyright violations, brand misuse, and coordinated harassment enabled by a figure in their fandom ecosystem. That letter remains unanswered.
I am now publishing this material not only as a matter of public record, but as an act of protection—for myself, and for others who may be targeted next.
Idea Factory cannot continue to profit from international fandoms while turning a blind eye to the structural abuse happening in their name.
I call upon IFI to: – Acknowledge receipt of the report publicly or privately. – Investigate the behavior of named individuals who continue to claim association with Hakuouki as a brand. – Clarify their stance on copyright misuse and fan project boundaries.
If they remain silent, that silence will speak for them.