You check in at this weird, fucked up hotel thinking it’s just another quick jerk break between Discord messages and a half-finished ranked match in Valorant, and then it hits you: everyone here is hot, half-creepy, half-adorable, and technically dead. Not rotting dead, more like “came out of a lab, upgraded with big tits and attitude” dead. They call it relaxation, but it’s basically a cum economy. Your load is the wallet. Every handjob, every messy blowjob, every time you pump some zombie babe’s pussy, the counter goes up and more doors unlock. It sounds dumb when you explain it, but suddenly you’re actually thinking shit like “ok, I need 6 more loads to reach that room with the smug goth girl that looks like Wednesday had a way dirtier phase.”

What sinks the hook in is how familiar a lot of the girls feel, without the game screaming it in your face. One moment there’s a clumsy, brainy girl in an orange sweater who drops to her knees faster than my Wi‑Fi when I open Twitch, and the next you’re staring at a green-haired psychic that basically radiates “I could throw you through the wall, but I’d rather pin you to the bed and milk you dry.” A blonde in blue spandex leaning on the balcony rail like she owns the place, a tomboy with short hair and headphones who’s way too into teasing slow strokes with her hand, a shy chick with glasses who deepthroats like she’s trying to study your DNA. The game doesn’t pretend to be subtle. It just throws familiar faces at you, puts a price on them, and says: pay in cum.

The loop is stupid simple, which honestly works when you’re half-awake after scrolling porn on Xvideos and going “ok, one more thing before sleep.” New day, new girl at the hotel desk or waiting in some shady corridor, each with their own number slapped on like a cheap mobile game microtransaction. Only here, you’re grinding with your dick. Do a few rounds with an early girl, blow your load, watch the counter climb. Hit that goal, suddenly a door you kept clicking before finally opens and there’s a smug zombie redhead licking her lips, asking for “payment.” Sometimes you just sit there staring at the screen because the animation hits that perfect angle and you forget you were supposed to stop after one nut and go back to Netflix. Controls aren’t special, some things repeat a bit too much, and the sound can be slightly off, but then a girl looks up at you mid-blowjob with those big, glossy, undead eyes and you’re like, yeah, ok, fine, one more round.

Game feels like somebody ripped a horny Overwatch fanfic out of an old Discord server, glued a point and click shell on top, then actually bothered to give it different endings instead of just spamming “good girl, now swallow” until credits. You’re this nobody guy who somehow ends up on a date with D.Va, and it starts pretty cute, like awkward flirting, small talk, her showing off a bit, lots of teasing. Then you blink twice and suddenly her lipstick is smeared, her mascara is half ruined, and you’ve got her on her knees between your legs, looking up with that fake innocent smile and an ahegao that would get banned on Twitch in one second. It goes from “omg senpai noticed me” to “yeah, you belong on your knees, don’t you?” so fast my brain lagged harder than my old laptop opening Chrome with 20 tabs.

What I like is how the game lets you be either soft yandere or full corrupted asshole without telling you “this is the good route” in big friendly letters. You can actually romance her a bit, take her on what feels like a real date, be gentle when you touch her thighs, enjoy her being bratty and smug. She flirts, she jokes, she pretends she’s in control. Then you can casually twist it: a bit of blackmail here, public teasing there, one choice where you “accidentally” grope her ass too long, another where you push her to show more skin in front of others. The humiliation creeps up slow, like a virus, until she’s jerking you off under a table with people right behind the door, trying not to moan while you call her a filthy little camgirl. It’s actually kind of romantic in a fucked up way, which makes it worse, so of course I loved it. Although, I’m still annoyed the text box sometimes covers her feet right when the footjob scene starts. I kept trying to drag it with my mouse like an idiot, like this is Photoshop, not a porn game. Still pisses me off and there’s no option for UI scale.

Sex scenes are messy in a good way. You’ve got her riding you in POV with her tongue out, cum dripping down her belly, then suddenly a branch where you can shove her face into the mattress and go anal, or keep it sweet and just keep thrusting into her pussy until she begs for a creampie. Sometimes the game lets you share her, too, and watching her get used by more than one guy while she pretends she hates it, then her eyes roll back when they cover her face, that hits a very specific brain kink. There’s also a route where you switch from dominant to kinda submissive, letting her sit on your face, grind that big ass on your mouth and talk down to you while she uses a toy on herself, and it’s weirdly adorable and degrading at the same time. You can screw up and get endings where she leaves you, or where she’s just broken, used, a little doll who masturbates for strangers’ approval while you watch from behind a screen like some creepy producer. My only real complaint, besides that damn text box, is that some transitions feel like someone skipped a couple pages in the script; one moment she’s just blushing from a kiss, next moment she’s being filmed covered in cum in front of other people, like I missed three important choices. But honestly, it still felt closer to late night horny roleplay on Telegram than a clean, polished porn VN, and that chaotic energy kind of fits her.

Daybreak Nightbreak feels like somebody mashed together a horny Mass Effect, a janky management sim and a corruption hentai manga they hid under the mattress. The city of Chios looks normal at first, just your standard modern place where rent is too high and people pretend to be fine, and then you realise there is a whole mirror version of it lurking on the other side, full of cults, monster girls and people who really, really should not be kneeling and calling you “my lord” with their tits out. You start as this kinda awkward guy, a bit of a late bloomer vibe, virgin energy all over him, who accidentally ends up infused with a power that basically turns “building a fanclub” into “building a sex cult”. It sounds stupid, and yeah, sometimes it really is, in the best way. One moment you are doing accounting in a tiny office, trying not to go bankrupt because some megacorp is crushing your small business, and ten minutes later you are in a dark alley, whispering corrupt little “prayers” into a married woman’s ear while her husband is a room away. And of course she’s got her panties soaked and her ahegao face out in about three dialogue choices.

I like how the game pretends to be about “big decisions” and then your biggest decision turns out to be something like: Do I use mind control to slowly twist this shy college girl into an exhibitionist cosplay slut, or do I turn the local milf head of department into my personal worshipping toy first. The sandbox part hits hard because you just wander around town and keep tripping over new scenes. There’s this goblin girl in the other dimension with ridiculous hips and an ass that moves like it has its own gravity well, and the first time you get her on your lap, she’s grinding in your office chair while asking nervously if “humans really fill girls up that much.” Of course the game gives you the option to breed her stupid with a creampie that drips down her thighs. The animations are rough sometimes, like two dolls humping, but when she’s bouncing, tongue out, drool on her tits and eyes rolled back, you kind of stop caring. Actually, you never cared. And the striptease scenes? There’s this one where a normally classy businesswoman you’ve been carefully corrupting does a half-drunk lapdance for you in a cheap karaoke bar, slowly peeling off her blazer and bra, trying to keep her dignity as she ends up riding your hand under the table, whispering “I’m cheating, I’m so bad” while you finger her until she squirts on the seat. The game just leaves the mess there, no comment.

The corruption feels deliciously slow when it wants to. That college subplot where you go back to campus hits like a twisted nostalgia trip. You start out helping a stressed student with her grades, totally innocent tutoring, then “accidentally” using your power to make her respond a bit too strongly to your touch. Next visit she’s sucking you off in an empty classroom, knees on the cold floor, big doe eyes looking up, lipstick smeared, trying to swallow all of it like she’s cramming for finals. And later you drag her into this stupid cosplay event in the other dimension, make her dress as a bunny girl in front of a small crowd of your followers, and she ends up flashing her pussy to them, moaning while they chant your name like some horny church. It is weirdly romantic too sometimes, buried under all the filth. You can build actual relationships, have soft moments in between the handjobs and public sex. Sitting with a milf on a rooftop, talking about her failed marriage, then quietly sliding your hand under her skirt while she leans on your shoulder, torn between guilt and arousal, might be one of those little scenes that stick. But yeah, then fifteen minutes later you’re using mind control to make her bend over a balcony, tits hanging out, while half the city could technically see you pound her from behind and fill her with a thick creampie she can’t stop leaking. The game swings between “Yakuza-style side story” and “hardcore hentai brainrot” so fast it feels wrong, and that’s kind of why I couldn’t stop clicking.

The whole thing feels like somebody mashed together a horny Final Fantasy fanfic, a cheap mobile survival clone and a beach episode that never ends, then said “yeah, good enough” and shipped it. Which, weirdly, kind of works. You wake up on this tropical island, sand in your shoes, dick in your hand metaphorically, literal later, and the first cutscene just slaps you with that “you’re a loser, now enjoy paradise” tone. The animation in those early scenes is rough in a way I actually like. Faces hold just a little too long, camera lingers on thighs like the animator forgot to hit stop, some lip sync looks like it was done in a hurry during a Discord call. But when Hana leans in close the first time, hair moving in the breeze, you can feel someone really tried. It is not clean. It feels like watching a lewd indie short posted on Twitter that somehow grew into a full game. And then you blink and suddenly there is Tifa in a bikini that never existed in any official artwork, and the game just shrugs, like “yeah, she washed up here, whatever, go talk to her.”

Cutscenes are the best and worst part. One moment you get this slow, almost romantic shot of the island at sunset, the ocean reflecting orange, Hana’s silhouette, and you think “oh, nice mood.” Next moment, hard cut to the male protagonist getting jerked off against a palm tree like a teenager who just learned the word “frottage” yesterday. The camera really loves asses. It crawls over Tifa’s bikini line while she pretends she does not know what masturbation is, then five clicks later she is riding your face in a little looping animation where her hair clips through her shoulders in exactly the same place every cycle. Marie Rose shows up in her swimsuit and that whole “mystery of the island” thing just walks out of the room. The plot starts hinting that the island is wrong, that girls are not just lost tourists, but the next scene is you spanking Marie on the beach while a crab walks through the background like an unpaid extra. The point and click bits are fine, you tap on a coconut, you tap on a girl, you tap on yourself under the water in a badly hidden masturbation loop. Sex toys appear later and the game treats them like legendary weapons, full camera pan, shiny highlight, then you just shove a vibrator between Tifa’s legs in a short looping shot that probably took the animator all night and two energy drinks. There is a mystery somewhere under all the crossover fanservice, but every time you start to care the game distracts you with another animated bikini grinding on the protagonist’s cock and, honestly, that is exactly the kind of trashy commitment I did not know I wanted.

Whole thing feels like somebody grabbed Overwatch, threw it into a horny fanfic Discord, and then actually finished it for once. You’re basically dropped into this weird “school but not really school” setup where Tracer is cracking jokes, D.Va’s glued to her phone like she’s farming Twitch subs, and Mercy looks like she’s pretending to be responsible while absolutely not being responsible at all. It’s a visual novel, so yeah, expect a lot of clicking through dialogue, but the dev at least tries to make you feel like the choices matter. One moment you’re just teasing D.Va about her stream, next moment you’ve got her on her knees, eyes glossy, sloppy sound effects in your headphones, and you’re like “ok I did not expect it to escalate on this click.” The transitions into the scenes are actually kinda smooth, except when they’re not and it jumps straight from flirty banter to her lips around your cock like someone hit fast forward on Pornhub.

The 3D look is… funny. Sometimes Mercy’s ass looks like it has its own gravity field, like it’s about to pull the whole classroom into orbit, and then in the next scene her face goes a bit plastic and you’re stuck staring at her mouth because the tongue animation is way better than it has any right to be. Oral stuff is clearly where the dev had the most fun. D.Va drooling on your shaft, Mercy going slow and “professional”, Tracer doing that playful tease where she kisses just the tip then pulls back with this smirk that makes you want to choke her and thank her at the same time. Couple of animated loops feel like proper hentai clips you’d find on some shady Telegram channel, with the camera glued to their lips, spit strings, little throat bulge, you know the good shit. And the butts. Every time someone bends over, the camera basically forgets there is a head attached. I opened it “just to check the art” and ended up rewinding one Mercy ass shot like I was in VLC trying to find my favorite timestamp.

It still has that parody energy. They mention their “hero” stuff and sci‑fi crap just enough to remind you this is technically the Overwatch universe, then two lines later you have Tracer straddling you in some random classroom, riding you with her boobs bouncing in a way Blizzard would probably sue over. I liked how you can act like a nice guy or a smug bastard and both paths still lead to filthy scenes, just with different flavor: gentle blowjob with shy eye contact, or D.Va gagging on you while you hold her head and she looks up all bratty. Sometimes the pacing is weird, like you get this long emotional talk with Mercy about her past, you think “oh plot now”, and one choice later she’s kneeling between your legs, lipstick smeared on your dick. UI is fine, whatever, I played it half on my laptop while pretending to answer Slack messages. The only thing that annoyed me was one teasing scene that drags on forever, Tracer keeps edging you with her hand and mouth, the text goes on and on, and the actual payoff animation is like three seconds. I still replayed it.

It’s weird how this game makes guilt feel sexy. You wake up inside someone else’s head - not just anyone, but that stretchy mom-hero everyone secretly had a thing for back when Pixar still pretended innocence. The premise should be grim, revenge and all that, but the tone keeps slipping between sad and horny, like the dev couldn’t decide if it’s therapy or foreplay. The way control shifts feels personal, almost too intimate. It’s not just mind control; it’s like the game’s trying to pry into your own urges while you’re prying into hers. And maybe I’m reading too much into polygons, but when she touches herself, it’s never about lust alone - it’s about realizing her hands aren’t really hers anymore. That mechanic where you can *feel* the resistance in her movements is unsettling in a delicious way.

There’s this one scene with the aunt - yeah, the bakery one - where she talks to you like she *knows* you’re there, like she’s been waiting for the voice in her head to finally answer back. It’s creepy and tender, then suddenly it’s just obscene. I laughed because the transition was so abrupt it felt real. The body models aren’t flawless either, and that helps. A little awkward jiggle, fingers clipping through skin, like even the code itself can’t believe what’s happening. The audio’s inconsistent - sometimes soft breathing, sometimes nothing at all, dead silence while something filthy goes down. It’s that silence that hits hardest. You start thinking, maybe she’s ashamed. Maybe you are.

I hate the damn save menu though. Always pops right when things get heated, like the universe reminding you this isn’t real. But maybe that’s what makes it stick. It’s messy, it’s wrong, and it lingers afterwards like a guilty text you never sent. You’ll probably close it and tell yourself you didn’t enjoy it that much. You’re lying.

Can’t lie, I clicked expecting another copy-paste anime mashup with the usual stiff models and dead-eyed moans, but this one hits different. There’s a sadness under all that skin, like someone coded their fantasies too carefully, you know? I found myself staring at Raven’s face - Batman’s Raven - and thinking, “she shouldn’t be looking at me like that,” while still dragging her into position anyway. Unreal how fast guilt turns into hunger when the animation breathes just right. And maybe it’s because of the Illusion engine doing its sneaky physics thing, or maybe because the transitions are almost clumsy, like real people fumbling with clothes and patience. It’s messy, which makes it hot.

The scenes jump from universes without pretending to make sense. One second I’m in some broken-down Capsule Corp lab, Bulma smirking like she *planned* to get caught; next, Yoruichi’s toes press against my chest, laughing, telling me to look up. I did. Of course I did. The voyeur mode feels wrong in the best possible way - it doesn’t even give you fake morality options, just lets you watch. But then again, maybe that’s lazy design. Or genius. Hard to tell when your brain’s half-melted. The weird part? The sound mix changes depending on position, so D.Va sounds distant if she turns away. I swear no one ever gets audio that intimate, not even those overpriced VR patches on Steam.

Anyway, I could say it’s perfect, but I won’t. Some things twitch too mechanically - the faces sometimes freeze mid-expression, like they remember they’re code. Yet that’s also the charm. You see the seams, and you keep touching them. Like rubbing a wound for pleasure. Half the cast shouldn’t exist in the same space - Orihime beside Tifa beside Samus - but here they crowd my screen like they’ve been waiting forever. Maybe that’s why it works: it’s absurd, obscene, familiar, and somehow lonelier than expected. I closed the browser and immediately reopened it. Couldn’t help it.

I swear this game messed with my head more than any so-called “psychological” visual novel ever did. You wake up rich, spoiled, surrounded by girls who look like they stepped straight out of some fever-dream crossover - like, imagine Asuka Langley arguing with Hinata about who gets to sit closer to you at breakfast, and then Merlin just casually walks in wearing nothing but a towel that doesn’t even try to do its job. It’s ridiculous, yet there’s something weirdly believable about it. Maybe because the dream logic fits too well: everything looks perfect, but your brain keeps whispering that something’s off. I liked that uneasy feeling until it got buried under all the moaning and skin. Then again, maybe that’s the point - when reality breaks, people reach for pleasure first. Or I’m overthinking pixels again.

There’s this scene - I won’t spoil too much - but you’re supposed to choose between helping Yor Forger study or letting Jinx drag you to her room. I picked Yor, thinking it’d be wholesome. Yeah, right. Five clicks later she’s on the desk, glasses half-off, saying things no spy should ever say. The animation isn’t flawless; sometimes her eyes lag behind her face, which made me laugh when I shouldn’t have. But that glitchy charm stuck with me longer than any of the polished stuff. And the sound design? Way too real. My cheap headphones couldn’t handle Tsunade’s voice purring through them. Still, I kept replaying the same moment like an idiot chasing déjà vu.

Funny thing: I started playing for the sexy chaos, but ended up stuck thinking about that blank-memory setup. Like maybe the main guy deserves the confusion. Maybe we all do. It’s a horny game pretending to be philosophical - or a philosophical game pretending to be horny. Doesn’t matter. When Nami whispers something about “remembering the wrong things,” I actually paused. Then I unpaused, because, well… she was already moving.

I don’t know who came up with the idea to mash Makima, Zelda, and Tsunade into the same world, but whoever it was probably spilled beer on their keyboard halfway through writing the script - and that’s what makes *D20 Magic Dice* feel alive. It’s messy, horny, strangely sentimental at times, like watching late-night anime reruns after a breakup. You’re talking to this dice thing (yeah, an actual dice), and before you even realize it, it’s making your thoughts real. Not just the good ones. I rolled a 3 once and ended up in some half-lit tavern where Widowmaker was arm wrestling Rumi for no reason while Zelda flirted with the bartender. I think I lost track of the main plot two minutes in, but it didn’t matter. The game doesn’t care either, it just keeps throwing beautiful chaos in your lap, all soft skin and heavy breathing mixed with dumb jokes about mana points.

What I liked most is how it doesn’t pretend to be clever. The dialogue’s sometimes broken, and the pacing jumps like old VHS tape - one second you’re teasing Ada Wong, next second Tsunade’s lecturing you about responsibility while sitting on your lap. There’s some strange comfort in that inconsistency. I did wish there were more sound options though; moans hit too loud compared to everything else, made me lower volume quick before neighbors got curious. And yet, when Makima whispers in that weirdly calm tone, you kinda forgive every bug. Maybe nostalgia blinds me - I grew up on janky flash hentai crossovers, and this feels like one resurrected from 2009. The dice mechanic almost feels secondary to the conversations, which twist between sincere and absurd so fast it makes you laugh mid-erection.

Sometimes I forget which universe I’m even in - Naruto? Overwatch? Who cares. The worlds blur, the clothes vanish, and someone says something about destiny while you’re trying not to roll another damn six. Three words? Chaotic, filthy, affectionate. Dare to play it alone, or invite company?

Thomas is that kind of guy every Overwatch nerd pretended to be back when D.Va voice lines were stuck in our heads all day. Except here he actually did it. He is in the team, he sleeps in her bed, he knows exactly how loud she moans when you pull her pigtails and shove her face into the mattress. On paper the relationship looks perfect: famous Korean mecha princess, loyal boyfriend, fans screaming her name on Twitch while she rides his cock after a match like it is just another ranked game. But there is this tiny itch under his skin, like when Battle.net lags right when you ult. Everything is good, nothing is wrong, and yet he wants more. Dirtier. Meaner. Less “idol” and more “cum toy with cute cheeks”.

Then that weird mail shows up, like spam you should ignore but you click it anyway because horniness beats common sense every single time. It is not some big magic ritual or epic prophecy nonsense, it is more like someone slid a cheat menu into his life. One by one, the little options open up. Lower her shame. Boost her arousal in public. Crank up obedience when you whisper in her ear. And you just watch this bright, cocky pro gamer girl, who talks trash in voice chat and winks at cameras, slowly start blushing when you tell her to go out without panties under that tiny skirt. At first she protests, acts all “babo, we can’t, the fans!” and then she is sitting on your lap in the parked car, skirt hiked up, drooling around your dick while people walk right past the tinted window. That moment when she looks up with full ahegao eyes, lipstick smeared, and you realize she is way more into humiliation than she wants to admit, hits harder than any highlight reel.

The fun part is how it mixes the silly parody vibe with really rough stuff. One scene she is doing her cutesy “Nerf this!” type voice while riding a vibrating toy you control from your phone, pretending it is just “training gear” for long matches. The next night you have her tied up in some basement that looks way too close to a practice room, wrists burning against ropes, ass already red from spanking, and you are forcing her to count every slap in broken English while she tries not to scream your name. She cheats on you and it is still your win, because you ordered it. You push her into these messed up “swinging” setups where her so‑called allies get a taste of her, but she is trained so well that she only cums when you tell her she is allowed. The anal scenes hit weird too; the first time she is so proud and cocky, saying she can “tank anything”, then three thrusts later she is babbling like a drunk support player, clutching at you, mascara running, begging you not to film it while you obviously already did. Some bits are slow, like a ranked queue on a dead server, and sometimes the jokes miss, but then there is that one moment where she walks out on stage, still wet from the sex toy hidden inside her, winking at the crowd while you raise the vibration level on your phone, and suddenly all the little rough edges of the game feel on purpose.