Trueclash feels like someone mixed a queer dating sim with sweaty MMA gym drama and then forgot to make it “nice” for parents. I opened it thinking, ok, maybe it is just romance with some punches in background, something like those tame otome mobile games on Google Play. No. Here you are a trainer in this crazy violent tournament world and everybody is half naked all the time, covered in bruises and horny mood. The story keeps asking you who you want to fuck and who you want to push to become champion, and sometimes it is honestly the same answer. One match you are helping this huge bara fighter stretch his legs and the camera just stays on his thighs way too long, like the game is winking at you. Then later you are sitting in a tiny locker room with a cocky girl fighter, she has ice on her ribs and suddenly she starts asking if you look at her ass when she trains. I mean, of course the game lets you answer yes. It almost feels offended if you say no.

What surprised me is that it is not just “click sex scene get reward”. The whole thing remembers your bullshit. I tried lying to one of the gay guys, told him I believed in his “pure technique” and not just his body, and then much later in another scene he literally threw my own words back at me while grinding on top of me after a victory. “You like my technique, right, coach?” and then the dialogue gives an option to beg him to go slower, which I clicked, then he ignored it completely and fucked harder. Honestly kinda hot, but also I felt called out like on Twitter. The lesbian routes felt different again, more emotional, but still explicit. There is this quiet girl who seems shy the whole time, then after a bloody match she pulls you into the showers, slams you against the tiles and tells you she is tired of pretending you are “just helping with training”. Water everywhere, her breathing in your ear, and the text really goes into detail with fingers and tongues. For a so-called “visual novel” it is weirdly physical, you almost smell the sweat. And the city outside the arena, Vibrant City or whatever, I thought it would be safe place, but even in the streets the flirting is aggressive, like everyone is two sentences away from dragging you into an alley.

Sometimes it annoyed me, I admit. There is one guy path, super built, totally my type, and the game keeps teasing him with soft scenes, sharing a protein shake, watching some stupid MMA meme clips on TikTok together, but then the actual first sex scene with him is locked behind some earlier choice where you had to be kind of an asshole to someone else. I only found that out because I reloaded a way older save and suddenly he shows up in my room, sweaty from late training, asking if I can “help him cool down” and I was like where was this before. So you really feel that “echo” thing. Also the writing can jump: one moment serious talk about trauma and abuse in the sport, next moment his dick is in your mouth and there is a bad joke about chokeholds. As a parent I should probably say this is bad influence and too adult and whatever, but honestly I kept clicking, muttering “just one more scene” like some horny teenager again. It is messy, queer in all directions, half romance and half porn, and it kind of crawled into my head in a way those more polished, safe LGBT games never do.

Angel is the kind of girl who still says “sorry” when someone gropes her in the train, which is exactly why this city eats her alive. She’s this cute redhead trying so hard to be “good” while the whole place is basically a hunting ground for frustrated creeps. You start with her doing little everyday stuff that should be boring, like taking the train, doing classes, helping at home, but it never stays normal. Every routine quickly turns filthy. Guy “accidentally” rubbing his crotch against her in a packed wagon, professor sliding his hand over her thigh while pretending to help her with an exam, landlord walking into the shower like it’s his house, not hers. And the worst part is how often the game lets you pretend it’s all just a misunderstanding. If you want. If you don’t, it becomes exactly what it looks like.

The bar is the main playground. It’s not some cool stylish place, just a tired, sticky-floor hole full of drunks who have nothing better to do than stare at Angel’s ass while she carries beers. You’re bussing tables, trying not to spill glasses, playing these stupid little minigames to keep up with orders, but your real focus is on where the hands are going. A guy pats the seat and tells you to sit on his lap “just for a second,” and the game throws you a choice that looks small. Sit and smile to keep the tips flowing, or pretend you didn’t hear. Both feel bad in different ways. Same with the classic “if you bend a bit lower while wiping, I’ll tip better.” Thing is, it’s not one big decision. It’s a thousand tiny ones, and after a while it’s hard to say which moment was the first time you actually crossed a line. There’s this one scene where you’re carrying a tray, the bar is crowded, and some asshole slips his hand up your skirt right in front of everyone. The screen narrows your options to stupid things like “keep walking” or “yell at him,” and neither stops his fingers from already being there. That felt too real, in a messed up way.

What I liked is that even away from the bar, the game doesn’t magically chill. Going home in the evening has its own flavor of harassment, random guys at the bus stop, that creepy neighbor pretending he’s “just checking the mail.” Inside her house isn’t safe either, the landlord has that slime energy of “I pay for this, you know” and he acts like her body is part of the rent. You get choices that feel unfair, like letting him watch TV with her in a towel because she has no clean clothes, or locking herself in the room and risking “punishment” later. Half the time I picked the “safer” choice and still felt like shit. The game is not subtle about the fetish side, it’s full of public groping, forced “accidents,” blackmail, that whole corruption fantasy where morality slowly slips away. But it also nails that specific humiliation of pretending everything is normal while someone fingers you under the table at work. There’s roleplay bits too where Angel starts leaning into it if you push her that way, using the bar as an excuse to dress sluttier or flirt harder for tips, and even then the world doesn’t suddenly turn respectful, it just gets bolder. It’s messy, sometimes annoying, kind of repetitive in places, but it feels like it really understands this particular fantasy of being a “good girl” trapped in a city that refuses to let her stay that way.

This one hits like a fucked up Valentine’s card somebody dipped in blood and spit on. Oridelle is not a “heroine,” she is a girl who died, got dragged back, and now thinks the only reason she exists is to suck off the guy who saved her. That’s the whole emotional center of the game: her on her knees, him on the throne, and you sitting there clicking through that sick loop of “thank you for saving me, please use me again.” It feels almost too intimate sometimes, like reading someone’s horny therapy diary that got infected by a horror manga. The tone flips a lot. One minute she is this soft, almost cute corpse-girl whispering how grateful she is, and three lines later she is giggling like a brain-poisoned bimbo about how her mouth is “perfect for him” and nothing else matters. It is erotic, yeah, but there is this rotten taste under it, like you bit into candy and it was raw meat.

The horror wraps itself around the sex instead of fighting it. Every time she drags herself back to that coffin, body resetting, clothes fixing, face going back to the “normal” Oridelle, it feels like watching a save file overwrite a human being. She goes out, gets broken a little more, comes back, looks the same. Inside she is not the same. You can feel the split getting wider, her real self trapped under this shiny, porn-brain alter ego that thinks being his perfect cocksleeve is holy work. Some scenes are almost boring in how focused they are on his dick and her mouth, and then suddenly one line pops where she begs him to call her by a name he gave her, not her own, and it hits harder than the actual blowjob. The game keeps telling you, quietly, that she is already dead, just not all at once. And still you keep clicking, because the pacing is like a slow, dripping faucet you kind of hate but keep staring at. Sometimes the writing leans too hard into “bimbo talk” and loses that fragile, tragic vibe I liked at the start, but then there is a moment where she hesitates before opening her lips and it all comes back. I wish there was a way to pull her out, to give her a route where she looks at him and says “no,” but the whole point is that she will not. She crawls back, every time, happy to be used, proud of how empty she can become for him, and that is what makes the whole thing stay in your head after you close the tab and pretend you are just going to check Twitter.

Death in this game feels almost like a dumb joke. One moment you’re gone, next moment some higher power tosses you back into the city like “here, go clean up horny ghosts now.” You’re not a hero, you’re more like a half-confused exorcist with a dirty mind, wandering around dirty streets and creepy apartments where every shadow might be a spirit or just a girl with tits that look like they’re breaking the fabric of her bra. It’s that kind of mix: cheap horror vibes, lots of soft colored lights, then suddenly there’s a MILF ghost asking if you’re here to banish her or “take responsibility” for waking her up. And honestly, you kinda want to do both. The whole thing plays out like an ecchi anime someone forgot to censor, with a bit of cheap cartoon style humor where even the scariest curses somehow end with you face-first in some big ass or with a hand up a shirt you probably shouldn’t be touching.

The story jumps around in a funny way. One moment you chase a curse to some old building, expecting some Ring-style crawly nightmare, and instead you bump into a tsundere waifu ghost that calls you an idiot for messing up the ritual while her gigantic boobs are literally clipping through her shirt. You talk, pick some choices, mess up a line, she gets pissed, and then somehow that leads to her pinning you against the wall and “absorbing your spiritual energy” with her mouth in a way that is absolutely not PG. There’s one scene in a tiny bathroom where the light flickers and the mirror starts bleeding, and out comes this shy specter girl with huge eyes and even huger tits, trembling like she’s actually scared of you, and when you purify her, the game flips it into this incredibly tender blowjob scene. It’s kind of sweet and fucked up at the same time. And then there’s a milf neighbor who’s not even dead, just “cursed,” walking around in a robe that never closes properly, and the game keeps giving you camera angles that stare right at her cleavage, like it’s reminding you every ten seconds that you’re not here for the plot.

What I liked is how it doesn’t pretend to be classy. Some scenes are just straight-up porn: you’re grinding this big-thighed ghost over a ritual circle while sigils glow under her ass, and she moans about how the curse is leaving her body while your dick is clearly the only exorcism tool being used. It’s stupid and hot. There’s one alley scene where a demon girl bends you over spiritually, and the choices you made before actually change her dialogue and how rough she goes, which caught me off guard because I thought it would be just click-next-to-cum. On the other hand, some “romantic” paths feel rushed like the dev got horny and stopped writing halfway, so you go from awkward small talk to full anal in maybe three lines of text, no buildup, just “okay, clothes off.” The text sometimes reads like it was written half on coffee, half on horny brain, with weird jokes that made me laugh just because they were so dumb, like a ghost calling your dick “holy staff.” And the game loves big tits so much it basically forgets asses exist, except for two or three scenes where the camera finally goes behind and you’re like: damn, where was this angle the whole time. Music is that chill loop you forget is there, which is good because you’ll be tabbing out to Telegram or watching something on YouTube between scenes, then suddenly there’s a haunted school stairwell and a busty spirit in a half-ripped uniform asking if you’re brave enough to “finish what she couldn’t in life,” and of course you pick the most degenerate option just to see how far it goes. It kind of feels like opening a cursed doujin and then realizing it reacts to the stupid choices you make, and by the time you’re balls-deep in another “purification ritual,” you’re not even thinking about ghosts anymore, just hoping the next girl moans louder and the dev remembers to add more positions this time.

Galactic Athletes feels like someone mashed together the Olympic Games, a horny soap opera, and that one locker room fantasy you never told your therapist about. You play as Finn, a new medic at Thebes Sporting Complex, and on paper his job is to keep all these huge, ripped, very not shy athletes healthy. In practice he spends a lot of time with a tablet in his hand, a hard-on in his pants, and a boss who basically tells him: “Guess who wins, guess who loses, or you’re screwed.” The twist is beautiful in a stupid way: every event ends with the winner fucking the guy who comes last. Gold medal equals top. Last place equals fresh, sweaty bottom. Sports science meets porn logic, and somehow it makes sense while you play.

The whole thing runs like a horny prediction game inside a visual novel. You move through event schedules, medical checkups, locker room talks, post-match “therapy” sessions. Before each event you look at the athletes, listen to their cocky bragging, check their conditions, and try to guess who’s going to take first and who’s going to eat the dust, and then eat something else later. There was this one javelin scene where I totally misread a shy, lanky guy, thought he would choke under pressure, marked him as last. Then he absolutely destroyed the field, turned around with this smug little smile, and later I had to watch him pin a muscle monster to the bench and grind him into it while Finn stands there trying to pretend he’s taking clinical notes. That moment hurt my ego more than it should, but I still rewatched it twice. For “research.” The sex scenes don’t feel like some random gallery you click through. They are chained directly to how you read those guys, how you interpret their bodies, their nerves, their stamina. If you fuck up your predictions, somebody else gets fucked, and not in the way you hoped, which is somehow worse than losing in a normal game. And yeah, it calls itself a league, but the whole setting feels closer to ancient Greek mythology fanfic where Zeus opened a gay gym and never invented clothes. I know Thebes is from Greek tragedies, but here it’s basically a giant sex clinic with running tracks.

What I enjoy most is how the game treats the athletes like horny gods and also idiots at the same time. They are tall, thick-chested, thighs like tree trunks, and there is zero shame about how much attention is on their cocks, their asses, the way sweat sticks to body hair. You get these surprisingly tender moments too, like one sprinter limping in after a bad run, Finn icing his leg, both of them talking about pressure and fear, and then five minutes later the same guy is buck naked, bent over a massage table, groaning while the new league champion pushes in slowly, and Finn is on the side trying to judge if this counts as “recovery protocol.” I wish the game actually punished wrong predictions harder sometimes, like really lock you into awkward pairings and force you to watch your least favorite guy get topped over and over, just to be cruel, but it kind of plays nice with you in a way that doesn’t match how brutal sports can be. Still, you get that nice balance where sometimes you are genuinely reading their psychology, like “he’s too confident, he will blow his load early,” and sometimes you just pick the one whose ass you want to see ruined. It pretends to be about strategy, then laughs and shows you two sweaty men going at it against the wall of the locker room while towels slowly slide off the hooks. It’s all gay, all the time, and proudly so, like old-school bara doujin met a modern queer sports anime and they got very drunk together. I opened it thinking “ok, just some porn with medals,” and somehow ended up caring who makes Champion’s league and who falls into Redemption league hell, which to be honest, is where all the best fucking happens anyway.

You wake up on this flying steel hotel called HMS Yuritopia, officially as “new fighter pilot”, unofficially as “dude dropped into a horny anime base”. The whole thing has this weird mood where half your brain is going “ok, we have mission briefings and air combat to worry about” and the other half is looking at the Seraph Squadron girls in their tight uniforms and thinking about literally anything except safety protocols. It starts pretty tame, just chatter in the hangar, some teasing, a bit of MC awkwardness, you picking dialogue options and trying not to sound like a complete idiot. Then very quietly the game puts your dick on a rails and goes, yeah, this is about sex, romance, and also jets, try to keep up.

What I like is how it doesn’t shove you straight into porn from line one. You flirt, you pick sides, you piss someone off by choosing the “cool” answer that actually lands as cringe, and the game remembers it. One scene you’re in the cockpit, comms crackling, adrenaline going nuts while you chase bogeys over some nameless ocean, and then later you’re in the locker room with one of the girls, the air still buzzing from the mission, her boots half unlaced, her flight suit hanging loose from her waist. She lifts her foot onto the bench, starts smirking down at you, and suddenly you’re on your knees, cheek pressed to her thigh, tasting sweat and soap while she rubs her toes along your lips like she owns your mouth. She doesn’t even need to say “good dog”, you feel it. The game loves that kind of power imbalance, like constant little reminders that yeah, you’re the pilot, but they’re the real aces here, especially when it comes to your body.

At some point you end up in this semi-private observation deck, glass all around, stars and clouds outside, and one of them decides to use you as her stress relief. She sits on your face while the ship hums around you, legs clamped tight, voice dripping trash talk. She calls you pathetic in one line and then fingers your hair in the next, sighs like she’s actually proud you know how to use your tongue. You can feel her heels against your back, pressing, like she’s pinning you there so you don’t even think about breathing before she’s finished. Later, another route, you’re in her cabin, lights low, she makes you sit on the floor between her knees while she lazily strokes you with one hand and pats your head with the other, talking in that soft pilot briefing tone about how “a good subordinate obeys every order”. The handjob is slow and almost painfully controlled, she stops right before you cum just to tilt your chin up with her toes and ask if you deserve it. That’s the kind of mean that sticks in your brain. And then somewhere else, way less dramatic, you’re just in the mess hall, talking shit about loadouts and missions, and two girls are basically flirting with each other over your plate like you’re just background furniture, brushing each other’s fingers, trading little looks, and it’s somehow hotter than the obvious blowjob scene that comes later in the corridors when one of them drags you behind a bulkhead, drops to her knees, and uses you to wipe that smug smile off your face, except it doesn’t work because now you’re the one whimpering against the wall, trying not to make noise while she dribbles spit down your shaft and laughs quietly every time your hips jerk. The whole thing feels like romantic drama and horny barracks gossip got locked together in a cabin, and you’re the idiot who knocked on the door at the worst possible moment.

Corrupt My Harem feels like watching a horny ethics lecture get slowly possessed by a demon and then deciding, ok fine, maybe consent is a bit… bendy tonight. You play this pretty standard anime boy who suddenly has access to dark magic that can poke around in people’s feelings, twist their shame, blow up their desire, and basically push them toward you. Not with subtle romance, more like “what if I slide a little corruption into that nice girl’s heart and see how fast she starts imagining choking and public sex.” That kind of vibe. The story pretends to ask things like “is this wrong?” but in practice it mostly asks “how far can we push this girl until she breaks in a hot way?” and then you click the darker option and, surprise, it actually goes there. As a gender studies person I should say “this is morally troubling” and yeah, it absolutely is, but also I still clicked the nasty choices first every time and then sat there staring at the screen like: alright, I’m the problem.

The fun part isn’t really the demon itself, it’s how the women slide down that corrupted slope. Early scenes are pretty soft: slightly naughty flirting, underwear shots, some teasing about being “too innocent.” You prod their emotions a bit, make them feel safe, or jealous, or curious, and then the script starts turning that into kinks. There is a really sharp moment where one girl is obviously uncomfortable, but you use the power to tweak her guilt into arousal and suddenly she is moaning while calling herself a slut and begging you not to stop. It’s fucked up, and the game knows it’s fucked up, but it does not pump the brakes. The harem angle is shameless: you are not building equal partners, you are stacking pretty toys around you and rewiring them until they feel lucky to be used. Sometimes it pretends to be a romance, with lines about “belonging to each other,” then five clicks later she is kneeling, crying from pleasure, thanking you for ruining her. That jump is wild, and kind of the whole point. I wish one route actually let a girl resist properly and stay resistant, but of course that would kill the fantasy, so it never really happens. The closest you get is temporary pushback before they melt into your hand again. Literally and metaphorically.

From a gender theory angle it is like a crash course in how power and desire tangle, just with a lot more cum. You’re not seducing, you’re hacking the emotional OS. The text leans hard on ideas like “she always wanted this deep down,” which is basically the classic porn excuse for non-consensual vibes, and it made me roll my eyes, then keep reading, then masturbate, then open Twitter and complain about patriarchy. I like how the corruption is emotional first and sexual second: jealousy, insecurity, need for approval, all inflated until they shift into exhibitionism, submission, even enjoying being shared. There is a scene where you dial up a girl’s fear of being abandoned so much that she offers her body to keep you, and the writing lingers on her shaking hands and wet thighs in a way that is almost cruel. It never really gives women a political voice, but it does give them a lot of sexual voice: they talk dirty, confess their fantasies, beg for more, describe what they feel in their bodies. It is still your fantasy, not theirs, but at least it lets them be loud and messy, not just silent dolls. I kind of hate how much that works on me. Also, tiny note that annoyed me: breasts get way more narrative attention than any other body part, to the point that one intense corruption scene almost gets derailed because the text can’t stop talking about nipples. I was like, yes, I get it, they’re hard, can we go back to her mind collapsing, please. Anyway, if you’re looking for soft, balanced, mutual romance, this is the wrong address. If you want to see “harem” turned into a laboratory for controlling desire, with demons as your research grant, it hits that fantasy embarrassingly well.

Gwen feels like that girl you see on Instagram explore page at 2 in the morning, the one who starts normal and then each post she’s suddenly thicker, stronger, tits a bit bigger, smile a bit cockier, and you’re not sure when it stopped being “fitness progress” and turned into “okay this is fetish now”. The game basically leans fully into that slide. You pick if she’s a regular girl or packing extra, and then the whole thing is just following her around while she chases this obsession with becoming more. More muscle, more height, more boob, more everything. And unlike the usual clickbait, here it actually happens. You start off with this pretty cute, kinda nerdy Gwen and then a few scenes later she’s filling her top and low key flexing in every line of dialog like she just discovered r/girlswithmuscle and decided that’s her life path. The writing is light, horny and a bit awkward sometimes, which honestly fits. It feels like reading horny Discord logs someone polished a little, not some corporate porn script. She’s curious, pushy, gets turned on by her own reflection, and every time the game gives you a choice you know you’re going to pick the one that makes her bigger and you pretend you’re thinking about it, but you’re not.

What makes it a bit different from other visual novels like Being a DIK or all those Ren’Py clones you grab off itch is how shameless it is about the growth stuff. This is not “oh she just got a cup size up, wow”. There are moments where you watch her wake up, realize her tits are not only heavier but resting on her own abs that didn’t exist yesterday, and she just starts squeezing them and describing how the nipples feel too tight for the bra you literally saw her buy one scene ago. Or there’s a branch where she’s already fairly buff, like early crossfit influencer level, and a random encounter spirals into her getting off on lifting someone smaller, pinning them casually because she’s stronger now, then using that rush to push herself into another transformation. The muscles are not just a tag, they get fetish attention: veins, hardness, how her thighs start rubbing when she walks and she pretends she hates it. Then two clicks later she’s doing squats in front of a mirror, talking about how hot it is that her ass is swallowing the shorts. Sometimes it goes too fast, honestly. There are scenes where she jumps from “cute girl in a hoodie” to “amazon with breasts like overfilled balloons and a growing belly from all the weight gain kink stuff” in the space of a few dialogs and you wish the game slowed down a bit, made you earn each size jump more than just picking the obvious horny option. Also the AI generated art has those moments where a hand looks a bit cursed or a boob curve is… confusing, and it pulls you out for a second, like when Stable Diffusion forgets humans don’t have 3 shoulders. But then the next scene hits with Gwen trying on clothes that used to fit, popping buttons across her chest, laughing in that cocky “oh no, I’m just too big now” way, and you forget you were annoyed. It’s trashy, horny, kind of self aware, and the whole “bigger in every way” idea gets pushed way further than you expect on a random browser tab between Pornhub and Reddit.

Civilization is basically a smoking crater, the streets are full of rotting corpses and hungry dead things, and somehow this game still manages to feel more about horny, stupid human choices than about the zombies themselves. You start in this ruined city where everyone keeps saying “freedom” like it’s a religion, and yeah, they absolutely use that word as an excuse to fuck anything that moves, drink anything that burns on the way down, and chase every dark kink they were too scared to Google when society still had laws. The vibe is half horror, half “what if Pornhub and a bad trip had a baby during Halloween cosplay night,” and honestly it kind of works. The writing swings from serious to trashy in like two clicks, one moment you’re checking a blood–smeared hallway and the next you’re balls-deep in some girl who thinks moaning louder keeps the undead away. Spoiler, it doesn’t.

What surprised me is how often the story gives you a choice that looks simple on screen but hits weird after. You’re not just picking “fuck / don’t fuck” every time, sometimes it’s “do you help this desperate guy who’s clearly high as hell” or “do you use this girl’s messed up daddy issues to get what you want.” It pushes that line where you catch yourself thinking, ok, I’m kind of an asshole here, but then you click anyway. There’s a scene early on where you’re holed up in a shitty apartment, sirens long dead, city quiet like a morgue, and your partner for the night wants to try something rough while there’s a zombie literally scratching the door. The game lets you decide if you stop and deal with the threat or keep going and turn it into fear-play. I picked the second option. Felt dirty, didn’t regret it, regretted it, still not sure. That’s the type of thing that sticks. The horror is not the dead; it’s you getting used to this new normal where necrotic moans outside are just background noise while you eat pussy on a broken kitchen counter. And yeah, the game knows exactly what it’s doing when it leans into drugs, shady trades for sex, and people using the apocalypse as an excuse to finally turn their porn tags into real life. Sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s gross, and sometimes those two are the same thing and the game just shrugs and lets you click “continue.”