Fandom creators spend hours of their free time to create something to make fandom thrive...for free and for the love of the game.

And what do they get? A wholeass heap of fuck all. No reblogs, no comments, no nothing. And people are surprised that creators are dropping out left, right, and centre??

"Why is there no long fic anymore?" "Why did my favourite writer stop?" "Why is my favourite artist not posting anymore?"

COVID-era fandom discourse did real damage to people’s ability to separate discomfort from danger.

The landscape of online spaces underwent a major psychological shift around 2020. Hyper-isolation, heightened anxiety, and constant digital proximity accelerated a harmful trend: treating psychological discomfort as though it were the same thing as physical danger.

In digital spaces, we have largely forgotten how to coexist with things that upset us. Instead of navigating public spaces with personal boundaries, modern fandom increasingly operates like an ideological panopticon, where consuming or creating “dark” content is treated as a moral confession.

01. The Purpose of the Sign: Informed Consent vs. Normalization

The core of this modern moral panic lies in what a content warning actually represents.

The door sign analogy: A warning label on transgressive fiction, or darkfic, is a door sign. It clearly states what is on the other side. It is one of the clearest tools we have for reader autonomy.

The normalization fallacy: Critics argue that tagging and publishing dark content “normalizes” harmful real-world behavior. This is a basic failure of media literacy. Depiction is not endorsement. A warning label does not say, “This behavior is acceptable in society.” It says, “This fictional narrative contains heavy themes; proceed at your own discretion.”

The “Dead Dove” contract: The whole joke of the “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” tag is that you found exactly what was written on the bag. It is a contract of absolute transparency. To look at a sign that says “Keep Out,” walk inside anyway, and then demand that the building be demolished is not activism. It is entitlement.

02. Curation vs. Policing: The Loss of Digital Sovereignty

Healthy internet use requires personal sovereignty. You are the absolute ruler of your own dashboard, feed, inbox, blocklist, and filtered tags.

Healthy curation: Using tools like blocklists, muted words, and tag filters is a mature way to manage your own experience. It honors the statement, “This makes me uncomfortable, so I will step away.”

Authoritarian policing: Changing that statement to “You make me uncomfortable, so you should be put on a list” transforms a personal boundary into a social punishment. It replaces individual responsibility with censorship and public suspicion, echoing the anti-comic-book crusades of the 1950s and the Satanic Panic of the 1980s.

03. Fictional Sandboxes and Psychological Safety

Fictional harm has a body count of zero.

Writing or reading about dark themes can create a controlled space for exploring fear, grief, powerlessness, anger, trauma, taboo, and survival without causing real-world harm.

When fandom polices these fictional sandboxes, it can ironically harm the very people it claims to protect. Many survivors use dark fiction as a private, controlled environment for processing complicated feelings. Forcing those narratives underground does not protect anyone. It strips creators and readers of agency, nuance, and context.

04. Reclaiming the Right to Walk Away

Fandom does not need to be a monolith of pure, unproblematic comfort. It needs to be a space that respects adult autonomy.

We need to reclaim the distinction between a threat and a trigger.

If you see a door with a warning sign, you have every right to turn around and walk away. What you do not have is the right to lock everyone else outside with you.

another revenge :> based on this painting from 1889