Just Monika: How DDLC Flips the Script on its Player

An interesting way to think about visual novels and dating sims in general is how they change the dynamic between player and game in regards to choice. In the vast majority of such games, the romance options—usually female—are "won over" by choosing certain dialogue options. Choosing correct options causes them to fall in love with the player, or at least even more in love, as games like this usually establish that the entire cast is crushing on the player less than half an hour in. The player has total freedom to pick any one of the lovesick cast to romance, with complete control over which relationship to take to a more intimate level and which characters to shaft. Things like hurt feelings, or even just the feelings of the romance options, are irrelevant. And by the time the player has amassed enough positive interactions with the chosen love interest to unlock the all-important confession scene, there is exactly a 0% chance that the character will reject the player. Getting to this point means that the player has already "won."

The message that all of the above sends the player is that they are the ones with total control over the relationship. There is an argument to be made that this sort of treatment has problematic implications for how the player conceives of consent and choice. After all, in real life saying the right things ≠ getting the girl 100% of the time, just as even the most charismatic of individuals cannot and should not have the near-total power to control how a relationship develops. In real life, romance is often unsatisfying. One can say all the right things and pick all the correct responses, but this does not necessarily translate into an obligation to begin a romantic relationship. In a visual novel, the choice is all the player's. In the real world, where a relationship is between two real people and instead of one real person and a character in a game, the choice falls on both parties. A dating sim is not an accurate or even a healthy simulation of how actual dating works—it's wish fulfillment, nothing more.

So here's a hot take: Doki Doki Literature Club is a dating sim, but the player is not actually the one playing—the player is being played. We are the chosen romantic option, and Monika is the player furiously gaming the system to "win" us. DDLC reverses the traditional dynamic of control between player and game, and hands this power to Monika. For example, the game is set up to make the player feel like they can freely pick girl to romance, but in reality there is no route where it is possible to begin a relationship with any of the girls besides Monika. There is no real choice for the player, no actual agency. Refusing Monika's advances is either outright impossible or just leads to disturbing and grisly results. We can compare this to a traditional visual novel, in which the player can freely choose a love interest and the character in question never has any actual way to decline. DDLC parallels this when the player is inevitably pushed to be with Monika, regardless of what the player actually wants or has been trying to do.

Of course no player enjoys the lengthy and disturbing process that draws them into the inevitable outcome of dating Monika. The game utilizes glitch-like graphics and effects to alter text boxes, move the cursor, and even flat-out stop the game if Monika isn't sufficiently pandered to. That's where the horror elements of the game come in—the removal of player control over the direction of the narrative, the usage of the game mechanics/interface to hijack player agency and meet Monika's desires. That's creepy. That's scary. But isn't that also what being an NPC in a visual novel entails? A lack of agency, an inability to refuse when chosen, at total mercy to the player's whims? If we as players find it horrifying to be in such a position, why don't we use that to rethink our conceptions of visual novels and their relationship to consent in the real world?

Finally, visual novels are supposed to be wish fulfillment, so it certainly seems jarring and almost upsetting that the player's wishes are ignored—that is, until, we remember that *Monika* is the one playing the game, not us, and isn't this the ultimate wish fulfillment for her?