For Twitch streamer Emiru, TwitchCon 2025 in San Diego was meant to be another milestone in a career defined by creativity, gaming prowess, and connection with her audience. Instead, it became a flashpoint for a much larger debate about safety, transparency, and responsibility at the heart of the creator economy. What unfolded in the glare of convention center lights—and in the even brighter spotlight of social media—has left the streaming world reeling, with questions that demand urgent answers.
On October 17, 2025, during a highly anticipated meet-and-greet at the San Diego Convention Center, Emiru (real name Emily Schunk) was assaulted by a male attendee. The man approached her on stage, grabbed her without consent, and tried to kiss her neck. According to PrimeTimer and Mashable, Emiru’s personal security and manager stepped in immediately, but TwitchCon’s own security staff, despite being nearby, did not react at first. The assailant was eventually removed, but not before the incident was caught on video and spread rapidly across platforms like X (formerly Twitter) and Reddit.
The public reaction was swift and intense. Fans and fellow streamers expressed outrage, with many questioning how such a breach could occur given the visible security presence at the event. Attendees had their bags checked, passed through metal detectors, and scanned wristbands to access different areas, as described by Mashable. Yet, for all these measures, creators like Emiru felt unprotected. "I don't understand how he was allowed to make it to me in the first place," Emiru wrote in a lengthy post on X, voicing her frustration and disappointment with the event’s handling of the situation.
In the aftermath, Twitch issued a statement reaffirming its “zero-tolerance policy for harassment” and claimed the assailant was “immediately blocked from returning to the TwitchCon premises, and they are banned indefinitely from Twitch, both online and in-person events.” But Emiru disputed this account, stating, "He was allowed to walk away from my meet and greet, and I didn't hear he was caught until hours after he attacked me, and it felt like this only happened because of my manager pressing for it, not because TwitchCon staff present thought it was a big deal." Mashable reported that Twitch did not respond to requests for clarification on the conflicting accounts.
This incident was not Emiru’s first brush with danger at a major event. During a livestream on the same day, she recounted a previous TwitchCon experience where her personal security guard was permanently banned from the venue for physically restraining a stalker who had been following her. "I’ve had a security guard, two years ago, where there was a guy following me around TwitchCon, and he, like, asked him to stop. My guard asked him, the guy wouldn’t stop. So, he grabbed the guy, but he didn’t, like, hurt him. He was just holding the guy until, like, they called the con security came. And then, for some reason, they’re like, ‘Yeah, because your security guard touched him, he’s like, perma-banned from the venue forever,’” Emiru shared, as reported by PrimeTimer.
Emiru’s story is emblematic of wider safety concerns that have dogged TwitchCon and similar conventions for years. In 2024, several Kick-affiliated streamers disrupted the event, harassing Twitch-affiliated creators on-site, according to Mashable. This year, prominent streamers such as Valkyrae, QTCinderella, Hasan Piker, Disguised Toast, and Yvonnie publicly declined to attend, citing safety concerns. The pattern is hard to ignore—and for many, the latest incident is the last straw.
The backlash against Twitch was immediate and fierce. Social media users lambasted the platform’s response, with one writing, “SHAME ON TWITCH. This shit is one of the many reasons I didn't attend this year. Their security is a JOKE. And the fact that they lied in their statement to save face over how they handled things.” Another added, “Streamers and Vtubers NEED to get away from Twitch and DO NOT go to TwitchCon. It will be unsafe and Twitch do not care about your safety or well being.” As Somos Hermanos and Mashable noted, calls to shut down TwitchCon altogether gained traction, with many demanding a full security overhaul before any future events.
In response to mounting criticism, Twitch announced additional safety measures, including banning all +1s for the remainder of the event and increasing security at meet-and-greet areas. Still, skepticism remains high. Many creators and fans believe these changes are reactive rather than proactive, and that the platform has not done enough to rebuild trust. As Somos Hermanos highlighted, Emiru resumed her meet-and-greet after the assault, buoyed by support from fans and fellow streamers, but she later announced that TwitchCon 2025 would be her final appearance at the event, encouraging others not to attend in the future. "I did not feel cared for or protected, even bringing my own security and staff," she wrote. "I can't imagine how creators without those options would feel."
The controversy has also reignited debate about the role of personal security at conventions and the sometimes punitive policies that can leave creators vulnerable. Emiru’s account of her guard being banned for intervening in a stalking incident points to a deeper problem: the rules designed to keep everyone safe can sometimes have the opposite effect, especially when the unique risks faced by high-profile creators are not fully understood or addressed.
Beyond the immediate fallout, the incident has become a rallying point for a broader movement demanding transparency, accountability, and real change from event organizers. Fans and streamers are calling for specialized security teams, clearer protocols for handling harassment, and more open communication when incidents occur. The message is clear: the status quo is no longer acceptable.
Emiru’s journey from a high school streamer in Wichita, Kansas to a co-owner of One True King and a beloved figure with millions of fans underscores just how much the creator landscape has evolved—and how much more needs to be done to protect those at its center. As Somos Hermanos and Mashable both note, Emiru’s resilience and willingness to speak out have inspired many, but the responsibility for change cannot rest on her shoulders alone.
As the dust settles on TwitchCon 2025, one thing is certain: the conversation about creator safety is far from over. The events in San Diego have forced a reckoning, and the choices made in the coming months will determine whether conventions can truly be the celebrations of community and creativity they aspire to be.