The Great VRChat vs. MMD Feud

So, let me tell you about this wild feud between the VRChat scene and the MMD community back around 2018-2019. It was like a historical clash of civilizations, only instead of swords and shields, it was anime models and online arguments. They took their 3D models very seriously—like, 'what are you doing with my meticulously crafted Hatsune Miku' seriously. You'd think someone had stolen the Mona Lisa and used it as a dartboard.

Recently, there has been some renewed discussion about MMD in VRChat, and perhaps some English-speaking folks might want to look into what really happened. The history is full of drama, misunderstandings, and cultural clashes that shaped the community we see today.

For those who don’t know, MMD—MikuMikuDance—was a platform where people could animate various anime characters, vocaloids, and more. These models were like sacred artifacts. They were made by fans, for fans, free of charge, with a silent understanding that no one would misuse them—or worse, make money off them. It was like a friend saying, 'Sure, you can borrow my car, but don’t you dare put a scratch on it!' Except, instead of a scratch, it was “Hey, don’t use my Miku model to pretend you’re doing Fortnite dances in a virtual nightclub.”

Enter VRChat: the wild, untamed west of virtual reality. People were putting on VR headsets, hanging out in virtual worlds, and naturally, they wanted anime models for their avatars. And why not? They were free to download! It’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet of waifus and husbandos. And some of these users had no clue about the unspoken rules of MMD. They just grabbed those models and, suddenly, every other avatar you saw was a rip-off MMD model, like it was a virtual convention where everyone showed up with mismatched, off-brand costumes. It was beautiful, anime-flavored chaos.

The MMD community, especially the hardcore members, saw this and they were not happy. Imagine a group of samurai—digital artists in this case—who spent years perfecting their craft, only to see their work used by someone who didn't even bother to read the instructions. And these artists did what anyone would do when they see someone misuse their painstaking work—they got mad, and then they found the nearest VRChat user they could yell at. Unfortunately, that was often the Japanese VRChat community, who were more accessible to MMD creators and therefore got caught in the crossfire, like, 'Whoa, whoa, we're just here to chill and vibe in VR, man! We didn't know we were reenacting the Battle of Sekigahara!'

The whole situation escalated quickly. Suddenly, there were heated debates in Discord servers, long-winded posts on Twitter, and even detailed call-out videos on YouTube. It was like a full-blown digital warzone. You had MMD artists trying to educate the VRChat users on the history and culture behind their models, while VRChat users were just trying to figure out how to get their avatars to do the floss dance without getting yelled at. The cultural clash was real. On one side, you had the MMD creators who were all about respecting the original IP, protecting fan works, and preserving the spirit of sharing. On the other side, you had VRChat users who were like, “Hey, if it’s on the internet and it’s free, it’s fair game, right?” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

And the thing is, these MMD folks didn’t bother with DMCA, didn’t care about VRChat’s policies—they didn’t even care if you tried to explain it. Instead, they kept barking up the wrong tree, often directing their anger at the Japanese VRChat community, which had nothing to do with the misuse. This misplaced frustration led to growing resentment among those who received unwarranted complaints, feeling unfairly targeted for actions they had no part in. It was like getting yelled at for eating a cookie when you weren't even the one who took it. The real culprit was long gone, and you weren't even holding the bag—just trying to admire it while someone else did the deed. 'I DON'T CARE WHO DID IT, JUST PUT THAT COOKIE BACK!' The Japanese VRChat users had to go through all these diplomatic negotiations, like virtual peacekeepers, trying to calm down furious digital artists. There were forums dedicated to hashing out the rules, and some people even made entire guides just to explain the dos and don'ts of using MMD models in VRChat. Most of the MMD folks eventually came around, but there were always a few holdouts—like that one neighbor who still won’t return your lawnmower from 2012, and now it’s just part of the neighborhood legend.

The critical point here is that much of this clash could have been avoided if it weren't for the disregard by some VRChat users—more prominent outside of Japan—for copyright, perhaps due to their own interpretation of fair use that's definitely not fair use, which is a trend that still manifests today. This also extended to ignoring the original creators' wishes, including ripping models directly from games, as well as overall ignorance of the culture behind MMD models. This attitude of copyright ignorance extended to the reckless and casual use of MMD models and assets, often disrespecting the authors' instructions. They just assumed that anything they found online was fair game, which led to disrespectful use of these fan creations. This carelessness wasn’t just a misunderstanding; it was a disregard for the values and hard work of the MMD community. It was like strolling into someone's backyard, seeing a beautiful flower garden, and deciding to pluck the flowers because, hey, they looked nice. Meanwhile, the gardener—who spent years cultivating those flowers—is standing there, jaw on the floor, wondering how someone could be so oblivious.

It got to the point where MMD became a sort of Voldemort situation in the VRChat community—"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Nobody even wanted to mention MMD. It became something people just avoided bringing up, almost like an unwritten rule to maintain peace. You’d see someone roll up with an MMD model and everyone else would just collectively wince like, “Oh boy, here we go again. Who’s gonna get yelled at this time?” It was like seeing someone light a firework inside a crowded room—everyone knew it was only a matter of time before things went boom.

People started creating these unspoken rules. If you were in VRChat and you saw someone using an MMD model, you just… didn’t say anything. You let them be. It was almost like a game of chicken—who would bring it up first? The veterans knew better. They knew that mentioning MMD was like saying “Beetlejuice” three times. You just didn’t do it unless you wanted chaos to descend upon your virtual world. And believe me, we had enough chaos already, what with all the anime dance-offs, impromptu karaoke sessions, and the occasional rogue player pretending to be a kaiju rampaging through a miniature city.

But fast forward to now—you’ve got new people joining VRChat who have no idea about this epic saga. They’re out here in the open, flaunting MMD models like they’re rediscovering fire. Meanwhile, the veterans are in the back like, “Kid, you have NO idea what kind of trouble you’re inviting right now. We had to make sacrifices so you could do this!” And by sacrifices, I mean hours of stressful negotiations and more DMCA takedown notices than you could count. There were late nights spent drafting apology messages, endless debates about fair use, and even a few community meetings that felt more like virtual therapy sessions. But you can’t really blame them, right? They weren’t there for the MMD wars of 2018. It’s not their fault they don’t know they’re holding a virtual can of worms.

And here’s the kicker—despite all the drama, nobody in the VRChat community actually hates MMD. In fact, a lot of the people creating new avatars and models in VRChat today? Yeah, they started with MMD. They’re like ex-rebels who joined the new regime. It’s kind of beautiful, really—if you ignore all the digital shouting matches and DMCA threats. Without MMD, the VRChat model market wouldn’t be what it is today. It’s like the weirdest, most chaotic collaboration story ever. Two sides who couldn't stand each other but still ended up making something amazing together—like a buddy cop movie, but with 3D anime models. Picture it: “Miku & The VR Cowboy: They Fight Crime (And Copyright Infringement)!”

If there’s a silver lining to all this drama, it’s the legacy left by the MMD veterans who transitioned into the VRChat scene. Many of the most talented creators in VRChat today started out in the MMD community. All those years spent learning how to rig models, animate characters, and make them look flawless? They brought those skills into VRChat and helped shape the vibrant avatar market we see today. These veterans were the quiet heroes, bridging the gap between two worlds that at first seemed destined to clash forever. Sure, there were bumps along the way, but without their persistence and creativity, we wouldn't have half the incredible avatars we do now. They paved the way forward, one awkward negotiation at a time, showing that even out of conflict, something beautiful can grow.

So, yeah, if you’re one of the new folks rocking an MMD model in VRChat, just know there’s some history there. We’re not gonna kick you out for it, but if you see a veteran player slowly backing away while whispering, “Oh no, not again...”—well, now you know why. We’ve been through the Great Waifu Wars of 2018, and we’re just trying to keep the peace. Just remember, with great waifu comes great responsibility. And maybe, just maybe, ask someone before you grab that Hatsune Miku model. It’ll save you a lot of trouble—and who knows, you might even make a friend instead of an enemy.

This story is based on multiple accounts of MMD in VRChat and may not fully reflect what really happened. It’s more or less based on hearsay, a mix of perspectives, rumors, and personal experiences, and should be taken with a grain of salt.