This game throws you back to classic pixel art with a raw, animated edge. At the bottom of the screen, five bold images let you jump between distinct, steamy scenes. You control the pace with two sliders that adjust how fast everything moves and how close you get. If you want a cleaner look, toggle off the text to let the visuals take full focus. Colors can be shifted too, giving you a chance to customize the mood and feel of each scene. The pixelated characters move with an old-school charm but don’t hold back on the explicit details. Navigating between scenes is smooth and instant, making it easy to explore every corner of this risqué pixel world. Whether you want to slow things down for a closer look or speed through the action, the controls are right at your fingertips. This game blends nostalgia with raw adult content, crafting a pixelated playground where your desires set the rules.

It’s a weird kind of wrong that feels almost too confident about itself. The game just throws you right into this hotel-room-styled tension between Ben and Gwen, like there’s no excuse, no build-up, just quiet breathing and the kind of slow curiosity that only gets worse the more you watch. The control scheme is barely there - you think you’re just clicking around to peek, but then you’re moving hands and lips like you’re trying to pass off an accident as an experiment. The pacing makes it feel like time stretches sideways. There’s that one moment where Gwen turns, half-asleep, and it’s not clear if she knows what’s happening, and you catch yourself leaning closer like a total creep. God help me, I think that’s intentional.

Half the time the audio feels too loud, but maybe that’s the point - it’s not polished, like it’s meant to break the “cartoon world” with uncomfortable realism. The blowjob scene looks like it was stitched together by someone who didn’t care about pretty, just raw motion, the way her throat tightens around him while he mutters things that sound more like apologies than dirty talk. And then when you switch to doggystyle, yeah it’s cliché, but the way the lighting flickers - it’s distracting as hell and, weirdly, kind of hypnotic. The game’s rhythm keeps screwing with you: it slows down on the heavy stuff like missionary creampie and then speeds up when you least expect, like the code itself is embarrassed about what it’s showing. I got annoyed at that. Then again, maybe that’s why I didn’t stop.

You can tell whoever made this knew exactly what nostalgia they were playing with, too. There’s this sick mix of childhood memory and adult hunger that no one wants to admit enjoying. Kind of like watching something too close to a secret. The handjob bit feels almost shy, then the facial lands out of nowhere, breaking the build-up in the most abrupt, stupidly real way. I hate that it worked. I hate that my mouse hand twitched even after the final loop restarted. If that’s not the most human reaction, I don’t know what is.

It’s one of those games that doesn’t even pretend to be subtle. You’re not saving the galaxy here - you’re running the damn Empire’s dirty campaign, pushing wave after wave of troopers toward that stubborn rebel princess who just won’t surrender. The setup’s familiar, sure, but the tone? It’s gleefully shameless. You’re not rescuing Leia, you’re hunting her, and the game makes no effort to hide that your “victory condition” involves her losing more than just a battle. The tower defense mechanics actually matter though - positioning, timing, choosing when to drop the next squad - it’s more strategic than it looks at first glance. Sometimes you’ll be watching your troops get fried by her turrets and think, “damn, I should’ve sent the heavy unit first.” And then when you finally break through her defenses, the reward scene hits like a guilty laugh you don’t want anyone to hear.

What surprised me most wasn’t the porn (that’s expected), but how the pacing keeps you on edge. Each level teases you with that mix of frustration and arousal, like the game knows exactly when to punish you for being too greedy. Leia’s voice lines - half defiant, half trembling - get under your skin in a way that’s both hot and slightly uncomfortable. The parody angle gives it a weird charm too; it’s dirty fanfiction with actual gameplay backbone. The art doesn’t go for realism, but it nails that smug expression she gives right before everything falls apart. You’ll probably laugh once or twice at how absurd it all is, then immediately click “retry” because you want to see what happens if you send a different squad first.

Accessibility-wise, though? A mess. No text scaling, no proper contrast options, and the UI’s tiny as hell if you’re on a smaller screen. I kept missing buttons because they blend into the background. Audio cues help a bit, but if you rely on them, good luck - the volume balance is all over the place. Still, it’s weirdly satisfying in its own trashy way. Like watching a bad space opera while half turned on and half annoyed. You’ll hate yourself for enjoying it, but you’ll still play the next level.

This release is the 0.65 version of a parody game that Lumi and I have been crafting over time. Right now, only Toriel’s character is fully playable, but we hope to add more faces down the line.

This early version is pretty bare bones, focusing mainly on core mechanics rather than polish. In the future, we aim to flesh out the world with richer conversations, a wider cast, and enhanced battle artwork.

Controls are simple: use arrow keys to move around, Z to interact or pick things up, X to back out or cancel, and C to access the menu.

Unfortunately, since early 2017, Lumi and I have faced financial difficulties that make continuing development impossible for now. Time is scarce and funds are tighter than ever, so this project won’t see updates anytime soon.

We’re sorry to anyone who was excited about this game and hoped for more. Despite its unfinished state, this version offers a glimpse into what could have been.

If you want to explore what’s here, controls are straightforward and the focus is on Toriel’s storyline for now.

Keep an eye out in case we manage to return to this project, but for now, consider this a snapshot of our creative efforts.