Think back to 2020. Many of us jumped into Stardew Valley or The Sims 4 in our quest to escape the gritty reality of life at the time. Slice-of-life games, where you can cosy up and fully control your character’s actions.
Will you adopt the larger-than-life experiences you’ve always wanted? Or do you want your character to reflect yourself and your personal preferences?
In these games, everyone is bisexual. In Stardew Valley, for example, you can romance Leah as a woman-sapphics rejoice! She has an ex-girlfriend, who interrupts you on your lovely picnic date. If I play as a man, then of course, as we’re all bi here, she still has an ex-girlfr-wait. An ex-boyfriend?!
What does this mean in the context of bisexuality in video games overall? Is including sexuality an attempt at genuine representation, with the aim of making everyone feel seen when they roleplay in their favourite games? Or is it tokenism, be that malicious or simply lacking in self-awareness, that encourages developers and writers to include bisexuals in their stories?
Let’s talk about it.
Blanket Bisexuality
What is it about Stardew Valley’s romance options that has inspired this deep dive? As a bisexual person myself, I love being able to explore my options beyond the usual straight love interests. When Joker had no option to romance angry twink Akechi in Persona 5 Royal, despite the clear homoeroticism that carried their love/hate relationship, I felt cheated!
However, it often seems like video game creators are attempting to placate gamers without doing the real work towards authentic representation.
In Stardew Valley, the issue isn’t that Leah can have either a male or female ex-partner. It’s the decision to change Leah’s ex from a woman to a man if you’re playing “straight”. It’s the decision to change her ex at all. If everyone is canonically bi, then why bother? Why not keep Leah’s ex as a woman, no matter what gender you’re playing as?
I see this as a clear example of bi erasure. If you’re a man, Leah’s straight. If you’re a woman, she’s gay. The fact that the developers had to code in a whole character change proves that this was an intentional decision to take Leah-and the other NPCs-away from the idea that everyone is canonically bisexual (an unbelievable concept in the first place). This makes Leah less credible as a character overall, in my opinion. It reminds me that these characters are just pixels on a screen, without a proper backstory or desires or development, and that they chiefly serve a narrative purpose. It really takes me out of the immersion of playing my totally realistic farming/dating fantasy sim.
It’s similar in The Sims 4. Everyone is bi, if you want your player Sims to flirt, date and marry them.
Sure, we now have an attempt at different NPCs having different sexualities. You can choose if your Sim is romantically attracted to men, women, or both. But, like most things in The Sims 4, it’s a half-hearted effort. While your Sim can declare their sexuality, it seems that most other Sims, at least for now, are defaulted to “I’m still figuring things out”, which is just another way to say, once again…they’re bi or pan. Sure, you can change them to suit you, but again, it seems more like a half-hearted attempt at trying to pander to everyone which leaves no-one happy.
If everyone is bi, then no-one is, not really.
It seems hollow and ultimately erasing to have everyone open to your attempts to flirt as default. Whilst it’s nice that there’s no homophobia in the Sims world, that doesn’t mean literally everyone is cool with getting down with the shes, theys or the gays. It’s unrealistic and lazy.
It’s better than “everyone is straight”, like it was for years. Still, “everyone is bi” still isn’t the answer many people were hoping for.
The Challenge: Bisexuality in Player-Driven Mechanics
Why do many developers choose to implement blanket bisexuality in their games?
Queer people, like everyone, often want to see themselves and live queer experiences in video games-especially as we were excluded from video game spaces for so long. However, developers also hear from a loud minority of people who consider “the gay agenda” to be pandering, annoying, or even dangerous.
What’s the answer? For some developers, it’s giving the player the choice.
While these systems are flexible, they sometimes miss the mark, reducing bisexuality to a “one-size-fits-all” approach. While attempts at inclusivity are mostly commendable, it glosses over the specific challenges and experiences of being bisexual. Bi or pansexuality isn’t just about the ability to form relationships with any gender; it’s also about navigating a unique social and personal identity.
However, this approach can also lead to a potentially more damaging outcome. If you play The Sims 4 as entirely straight characters, then often you can sidestep any kind of queerness completely (though keep an eye out for two women kissing in the background or Bob Pancakes wearing a wedding dress!).
I found a similar issue in my first playthrough of Life is Strange as well. “What?!” I hear you cry. “It’s the ultimate sapphic love story between two childhood friends! How could you have sidestepped that?”
Well, if you decide to accept nerdy Warren’s advances and reject Chloe’s dare to kiss her, you can read Max and Chloe’s relationship as wholly platonic. Soulmates, sure, best friends, no doubt, but not lovers. It probably didn’t help that I personally hadn’t realised my own sexuality at that point, so wasn’t picking up on Chloe’s flirting or the fact that she was clearly in love with Rachel Amber. But still, if I can miss this side of the game entirely-one that is infamous for its queer theming and touted as one of the most influential, praised lesbian games of all time-then more needs to be done to canonise Max’s bisexuality.
Moreover, it’s disappointing to play a game and only realise that a character is bi if you try to romance them in a second playthrough-but only once you swap genders. For example, Anders from Dragon Age Origins’ DLC says “All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools”. If you romance him as a man, he will tell you about an ex-boyfriend. However, if you romance him as a woman, he doesn’t tell you about this ex at all. Erasing, or at the very least concealing, his sexuality in this way allows the continuous perception that bisexual men are less desirable than straight men to date, as some straight women claim. It allows more narrow-minded players to avoid feeling uncomfortable or turned off. It’s pandering to the extreme: market bisexuality for the gays, but hide it for the homophobes. Win-win, right?
Not for us bisexuals.
A Wider Look At Bisexuality In Video Games
It’s not just cosy life sims that have fluid sexualities knitted into the fabric of the gameplay. Let’s take a look at one of my favourite modern games, Life Is Strange 3.
I was very happy that I could romance any one of the party members, no matter my sex or gender. What would a run of BG3 be without slowly helping Astarian overcome his trauma and open up (his heart, you fiends!)? What would I do without Lae’zel coming onto me seemingly out of no-where? How could I live without Halsin, bear (and bear) extraordinaire?
Of course, this is another “everyone is bi” example. But the difference is, these characters are fully realised. They live in a magic-filled world, where animals talk, vampires try to drink your blood in the night, and squid men come to you in your dreams. Perhaps things like gender and sexuality aren’t as important in this world. However, despite my happiness that I had a shot with all of them in one playthrough, something felt a little unearned. If you played as a man and only chose to romance the women, maybe you’d never have to engage with the queer themes. You could choose to “play straight” in accordance with your views. And again, maybe homophobia isn’t a thing in this fantasy world. And that’s great. But it just seems, once again, a little pander-y rather than a genuine exploration of bisexuality.
Another of my favourite video games is Catherine: Full Body. In the first game, Vincent needs to choose between his girlfriend of 5 years, Katherine, or mysterious, sexy young woman, Catherine. In the remake, however, he saves lovely Rin from an attacker. He helps them with their amnesia, and in return, Rin accepts him for who he is.
The challenge for Vincent is that Rin is revealed to be-spoilers-a female-presenting, pansexual male. Unlike the other games we have talked about so far, there is no escaping the queerness of this narrative. Rin reveals himself to Vincent, and you can choose to help Vincent make the right decisions to pursue him. If you help Vincent be open-minded, he can fall in love with Rin, and he’s presented as the clear right choice for Vincent. They love each other for who they are, without judgment or prejudice. Vincent learns to look past gender and becomes a true bisexual king.
A key reason why I don’t consider this to be one of the best representations of bisexuality, though, is due to the outdated queer tropes that the game often portrays. However, this is not a bad attempt, and the remake attempts to iron out some of these criticisms.
I also really enjoyed the relationships portrayed in Assassin’s Creed Odyssey. Whether you play as Kassandra or Alexios, you can engage in romantic or sexual relationships with characters of any gender, reflecting a flexible, fluid approach to sexuality. Whilst, again, this is evocative of an “everyone is bi” approach, perhaps the game taking place in Ancient Greece makes this easier to swallow. As we know from historical texts incorporating bisexual themes, the potential queer love between well-known historical figures like Achilles and Patroclus, and the concept of aphrodisia, sexuality may have been more acceptable in Ancient Greece than in other pre-Christ ancient societies. So, the historical setting supports and contextualises the normalisation of bisexuality, making it feel immersive and authentic.
However, the relationships seen in Odyssey are often treated lighter than one would like: more as optional mechanics rather than fully fleshed-out narratives. The game’s focus on player agency leaves little room to explore the complexities of bisexual identity, but it’s still a welcome addition.
Even more damning: the franchise’s canon illustrates the idea that modern-day characters can use the Animus technology to be transported digitally back in time to relive their ancestor’s genetic memories. In order for this to happen, of course, the historical characters need to pass on their genetics and create a lineage by having children. But if you’ve chosen to have a monogamous gay relationship, that can’t happen. So, when Odyssey’s DLC came out and forced you to have a straight relationship and a baby, this really highlighted the disingenuous motivation behind the bisexual mechanics. Bisexuality-or, at least, playersexuality-sells, even if it doesn’t make sense for the franchise it’s in. It’s all about the money, rather than the representation. (Just look at Ubisoft’s aggressive stance on microtransactions for further evidence).
The Most Genuine Explorations of Bisexuality
What is a genuine exploration of bisexuality?
In my opinion, it’s the thoughtful, nuanced, and authentic representation of bisexuality as a part of characters, narratives, or player experiences. It goes beyond superficial or tokenistic inclusivity to delve into the complexities of bisexual identity, relationships, and societal perceptions.
Key elements can include:
1. Multidimensional characters
Characters identified as bisexual should have rich backstories, distinct personalities, and complex motivations that extend beyond their sexual orientation. Their bisexuality should be an authentic part of who they are rather than a defining or gimmicky trait.
For example, Iron Bull from Dragon Age: Inquisition has a romance storyline that incorporates his cultural views and leadership role, making his bisexuality feel like a natural extension of his character. He’s completely open-minded, but his romance starts as a physical instead of a romantic one, making him quite different from the other characters in the game. Additionally, as most of the other characters in the game are not bisexual, his inclusion feels like a deliberate, careful choice, rather than another NPC coded to reflect your decisions as a player.
2. Realistic and diverse relationships
Bisexuality is not just about attraction to multiple genders; it also involves navigating unique social dynamics, such as misunderstandings, biphobia, and erasure. Games should present relationships that reflect the diversity and depth of bisexual experiences, including both positive and challenging aspects.
For example, whilst Max Caulfield’s bisexuality may be erased if you opt for Warren over the blue-haired sapphic icon, Chloe Price depicts a far more realistic example of bisexuality. This is especially apparent if you play both Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.
Chloe experiences a deep connection with both Rachel Amber and Max, offering a nuanced portrayal of her bisexuality through emotional, sometimes fraught relationships. She is canonically bi, with references to past flings with men and condoms in her room, and the deep interpersonal bonds illustrated throughout the Life is Strange series in general give diverse representations of queer relationships.
In Catherine: Full Body, additionally, we experience homophobia through the lens of other characters. Vincent has to learn to overcome his fear of being seen as queer by others-especially in light of the rampant transphobia directed at trans bartender Erica-showcasing an intricate look into what it means to be queer in a less-than-accepting society.
Whilst none are perfect, their attempts to treat bisexuality as more than just a game mechanic is commendable.
3. Avoidance of stereotypes
Being bisexual doesn’t mean you’re promiscuous. It doesn’t mean you’re greedy. It doesn’t mean you want to sleep with anything that walks, or that you are indecisive, or untrustworthy. It doesn’t mean that you have to be with someone of the same sex to be considered queer. You aren’t a “fake” bisexual if you’re solely with someone of the opposite sex.
These stereotypes are pervasive and particularly harmful to the bisexual community. So, in video games, it’s refreshing to see bi characters as just existing, without needing to prove or explain their orientation.
Crucially, this also needs to go beyond the “everyone is bi” trope.
For example, in Life is Strange: True Colors, Alex Chen is bisexual without fanfare. Her relationships with both Steph and Ryan are treated equally and respectfully, normalising her bisexuality and allowing you to make an authentic choice on who to romance. She is not “playersexual”-that is, she doesn’t have a sexuality that aligns with the player’s. It is absolutely clear that she is attracted to both of them, and that both return her feelings. And when you make the choice, you’re not deciding that Alex is Confused Straight Girl or a Massive Gay. She’s bi, whether she chooses Ryan, Steph, or, actually, neither of them. And that lack of stereotyping is fantastic to see.
Additionally, the “bury your gays” trope has pervaded media throughout history. This trope, which presents queer characters as more expendable than their heterosexual counterparts, often sees them some of the first to die in a horror setting, or are used as predictable or “more permissible” deaths in thrillers. This allows heterosexual heroes to take revenge or overcome challenges that the queer characters simply were never given the opportunity to.
In stark contrast, The Quarry sees Ryan and Dylan, Camp Counsellors in spooky Hacket’s Quarry, flirt and let down their walls as they experience a true life-or-death event together. If you make the right choices, the gays really can survive, and their survival is just as important as the straights. Compare this with Life is Strange, where you can (spoilers!) choose to let Chloe die, or stop the storm. It’s presented as selfish to want your girlfriend to survive over Arcadia Bay, forcing the entire narrative into a suffocating grip, tightly constrained within Bury Your Gay’s grasping hand.
I’d love to talk more about The Quarry, as Dylan is one of my favourite queer characters of all time in a video game, but know that it’s worth playing just to hear his quippy one-liners.
4. Integration into the narrative
Bisexuality should feel integral to the story or world rather than a tacked-on feature. This could involve relationships impacting the storyline, affecting character development, or reflecting the norms and attitudes of the game’s setting.
Like I mentioned before, Kassandra (or Alexios) in Assassin’s Creed Odyssey lives in a world inspired by Ancient Greek norms, where fluid sexuality was often accepted. Her relationships fit naturally into the game’s setting, blending history with modern inclusivity. As the writers decided to include romance as an extra gameplay feature, rather than a core component of the narrative, this is crucial. If we were gallivanting around Nazi Germany or the Middle Ages, queer romances would have to be treated with much more sensitivity than in Ancient Greece, if we are to see them as realistic.
5. Not everyone should be bi-all the time
While the “everyone is bi” trope may have its place when players want to experiment with personality-light NPCs, like in The Sims 4, it simply doesn’t work for me in story-based games. Apart from Baldur’s Gate 3, perhaps. But maybe that’s just my love for the characters talking…
Cyberpunk 2077 is a shining beacon for me in terms of queer representation. For the most part.
There are 4 main romance-able characters to choose from: loyal, independent nomad Panam Palmer; quippy technician Judy Alvarez; no-nonsense, former NCPD detective River Ward; and fun-loving musician Kerry Eurodyne. But they’re not all bi-depending on whether you have a masculine or feminine voice and/or body type, these characters will have preferences. Like Alex Chen, they aren’t playersexual. And I love that.
Did I want to romance Judy as soon as I got to know her? Absolutely. Was I sad that I was playing as a male V, and therefore she wasn’t interested? Sure. But I appreciated she didn’t want me. She has her own personality, preferences, and agency. She feels like a fully fleshed out character, and the decision to give her a sexuality that remains consistent is a huge part of that. That’s so important for me to become fully immersed in a story-based game like this. There are people in the world who are straight, or gay, and no matter how much you like them, they just won’t reciprocate. I think it’s important to include these characters as well as bi, ace, and trans characters, not just make everyone bi (or, worse, playersexual) to pander to the player.
My only gripe is that, of these 4 main love interests, there isn’t a bisexual choice. There are other characters, like Johnny Silverhand and Meredith Stout, who are bi and flirt or hook up with no matter their gender, but it’s a shame that there isn’t a main bi romance option.
What Can Developers Do Better?
Authentic bisexual representation requires more than just romance options. It’s more than allowing the player to be gay or not. It’s more than programming characters to be playersexual; tools to be used by the player.
Here are a few of my suggestions for developers interested in authentic, genuine, and affirming bisexual representation:
1. Deep character development: bisexual characters should be multidimensional, with rich backstories and goals, and with their sexuality serving as one aspect of their identity rather than a defining trait. Take Iron Bull in Dragon Age: Inquisition-his orientation complements his cultural background and leadership role without overshadowing his personality.
2. Acknowledgement of bisexual experiences: games could explore themes such as biphobia, bisexual erasure, and the challenges of navigating relationships in a
heteronormative or queer-phobic world. Whilst I understand that many fantasy or futuristic games, like Baldur’s Gate 3 or Mass Effect, may be able to excuse deep discussions around queerness due to their fantastical settings, it would be good to see at least some games tackling issues many of its players face every day as part of a nuanced story arc.
3. Meaningful story integration: bisexuality should feel integral to the character and the narrative, not an afterthought or an example of tokenism. Characters should feel canonically bi, instead of making every character bi for the player’s enjoyment-though I can give games like The Sims 4 more of a pass for people who want to craft specific stories for themselves.
4. Diverse representation: bisexual characters should reflect the diversity of the bisexual community, including different genders, races, and cultural backgrounds. This may mean hiring or consulting with diverse LGBTQA+ individuals during the writing process and incorporating their experiences authentically into the characters and narratives.
5. Avoid harmful stereotypes: solely giving villains or morally grey characters a queer identity can negatively skew the perception of gay or bisexual people within society. For example, Trevor Philips, infamous sociopath from GTAV, describes his relationship status as “any hole’s a goal”, and is extremely violent and unpredictable. As a very well-known LGBTQ+ protagonist, it’s not a fantastic look to have him be quite so obviously immoral, even if it is fun to play as him. To combat issues like this, make both good and bad characters straight, gay, and everything in between, instead of using bisexuality specifically as an indicator of moral degeneracy.
6. Normalise bisexuality in relationships: don’t treat bisexuality as a big reveal or “twist”. Don’t allow bi characters to be considered gay if they are in a relationship with the same or fluid gender, or straight if with the opposite. Write bisexual relationships with equal attention and care as other romantic arcs, with meaningful interactions and emotional depth. For example, in Hades, Zagreus’ relationships with Thanatos and Megaera are treated as equally valid and emotionally significant.
Authentic Representation Matters
Ultimately, if everyone’s bi, it takes away from the individuality and realism of the NPC. Only the player’s preference matters, and so instead of representing actual characters, they are often considered more as set pieces waiting for you to interact and do as you will with them. It’s nice every so often to be able to live out your numerous bi fantasies, like in Stardew Valley, but if the NPCs have proper personalities, backstories, and desires, then I think sexuality should be a thoughtful part of that, instead of an afterthought. Trust me-your LGBTQA+ gamers will appreciate being seen, heard, and valued.
I’m sure, dear reader, that you’ll have your own beloved bisexual video game characters to wax lyrically about. The characters who you loved getting to know, whose relationships are layered, emotional, and central to the game’s story-or even helped you to realise or come to terms with your own sexuality. We’d love to hear about them, so please let us know via the Zatu socials.
