Emily is one of those girls you swear you met in college but can’t quite place. Smart enough, cute enough, a bit basic at first sight, then ten minutes later she’s torn between finishing her assignment and sending nudes to a guy she just met at a shitty bar. That’s basically the whole mood of this game: watching her pretend she has her shit together while you quietly push her toward being either the good girl her profs love or the slut the whole campus whispers about. You’re not some faceless god here, more like the nasty little voice in her head that tells her “eh, one more drink, what’s the worst that can happen?” and then suddenly she’s blowing a married teacher in a locked classroom with her panties stuffed in his pocket. The nice part is how small choices snowball. You tell her to “just flirt a bit” with the muscular black guy from her study group and later you’re sitting there like, okay, now she’s on her knees with mascara all over her face and a grin that basically screams ahegao thumbnail. And the game does not shy from showing you every messy angle of that.

What I liked is that it doesn’t scream “corruption route / pure route” at you in big neon text, but you feel it anyway. One night she’s crying in her room, hugging her phone, deciding if she should stay loyal to her sweet boring boyfriend, next night she’s in some shady hotel room doing live cam masturbation with a vibrator she bought with blackmail money. That jump feels wrong and hot at the same time. Stuff like voyeurism is slipped in almost casually: your choice to peek at someone in the dorm showers “just out of curiosity” suddenly turns into Emily realizing people are watching her too, and instead of freaking out she starts putting on a little stripper show, slow teasing, panties slid down just enough to get the viewer hooked. Then the game turns around and drops a soft romance scene where she’s half asleep, giving lazy oral to her guy in bed, nothing wild, just quiet and intimate, and you think maybe she can be normal. Ten minutes later she’s letting a milf neighbor “teach” her how to please older men and the whole thing feels like you scrolled too far on Pornhub and forgot to stop.

The school setting is used more like a pressure cooker than just a backdrop. You get those dumb normal scenes like group projects and cafeteria gossip, and then out of nowhere someone threatens to leak her nudes unless she “earns” their silence, and that opens the door to prostitution stuff that starts kinda tame and then gets dark. Not “torture porn” dark, more like “she smiles but you know she is owned now” dark. Some paths put Emily on top too, by the way. There is this one route where she figures out very fast that horny men are idiots and starts using female domination tricks on a nervous dilf teacher, making him pay for private “tutoring” while she toys with him using her mouth and then pulls back right before he finishes, total power trip. Sex toys show up in fun ways, not just “here is a dildo, click to use”. Like she goes from shy bedtime fingering to riding a buzzing plug during a serious class presentation, trying not to let the sound escape her lips while her classmates discuss something dumb like group theory. I’m still annoyed that one of the endings locked behind a really small choice about her outfit on the first day, I picked the sweater because I thought “ok, cozy” and then later figured out that the skimpy dress opens a whole extra blackmail chain I missed, but fine, that’s on me and my fake morals. The point is, Emily doesn’t just flip from saint to whore in one click. She slides, stumbles, laughs, cries, makes horrible decisions that you kind of pushed her into. And watching her cross those lines, one blowjob, one strip tease, one “accidental” creampie at a time, is where the entire thing really gets under your skin.

Angels Academy feels like someone smashed a horny dating sim into a theology class, spilled porn all over the syllabus, then said “yeah, this is fine” and opened the doors anyway. You play this bratty guy who got shipped off to a religious “last chance” island because he got caught jerking off, which already tells you the tone: no one here is really holy, they just pretend until their pants are off. The whole place is this weird mix of strict uniforms, old stone halls, stained glass, and girls with asses and tits that do not belong in a place that talks about purity. One moment you’re nodding along while some pious girl talks about virtue, the next you are watching her blush hard while you stare a little too long when the wind lifts her skirt. The story gives you space to either play the slightly decent guy who teases, flirts, learns how to talk to different beliefs, or the absolute bastard who blackmails, corrupts and turns every “angel” into something far from heaven. It is mostly clicking around the campus, spying where you should not, poking at every shiny icon like a horny raccoon, and then watching what kind of trouble your mouth and your hands can start.

The fun comes from how dirty the game is willing to go while still pretending it has “faith” in the background. There is this high you get when you pull a girl away from the group after some prayer session, close the door behind you, and she goes from “God is watching” to sliding to her knees with your cock in her mouth, drool on her chin, eyes up like she is worshiping something else now. Some scenes play from your eyes only, so when you shove a shy virgin against a locker and just start groping her ass through the skirt, you see her breathing quicken literally in front of you. Or when you push a proud, bossy girl to strip on a balcony where people might look up at any second, and she hates you for making her do it but still spreads her legs wider because you told her to. The tone jumps a lot: one route feels like romance with slow teasing and handjobs in quiet dorm rooms, another is pure humiliation, like forcing some religious honor student to masturbate for you while she whispers prayers that get more and more broken. You can fool around with all kinds of girls, different skin tones, different religions, different kinks, and the game happily lets you be a controlling prick who uses secrets and blackmail to build a harem that looks holy on paper and filthy from your bed. I wish the UI didn’t hide some scenes behind weird skill checks that look like a spreadsheet, but whatever, it still feels good when that one choice you made three clicks ago suddenly turns into a sloppy blowjob in a confession booth with the candles flickering and her faith falling apart on your dick.

It’s weird how a game can make your stomach twist like that - like jealousy and curiosity are kissing behind your ribs. Mina’s messages feel too real, her little hearts and half-sincere emojis landing harder than they should. You’re not just reading text bubbles; you’re kinda reading your own reflection, that insecure part that wants to check her phone when she’s in the shower. It’s not even about trust. It’s about the thrill of maybe finding something you shouldn’t. The game knows that. It plays you more than you play it. I kept thinking I’d stay calm, but then some random producer sent her a photo at midnight, and I swear I felt my pulse in my teeth.

There’s this moment - she sends a selfie that’s almost innocent. Almost. You can tell she’s not alone, though the frame pretends she is. That’s when I realized the point isn’t to “win” her back. The point’s to feel that sting, to let it crawl under your skin until it burns. The choices don’t really matter, or maybe they do, but the game’s so good at pretending they don’t that you start second-guessing your own reactions. I hated that. And loved it. Like when you know you’re being teased but you lean into it anyway. The music’s soft, too clean for what’s happening on-screen - it’s like watching a slow breakup inside a perfume ad.

I wish Mina’s typing bubbles didn’t take so long to appear. That wait feels cruel. But maybe that’s the best part. You stare, waiting, wondering what she’s doing while you wait. Sometimes I thought I wanted more pictures, more explicit proof, but when the game actually gives you something close to that, it’s worse. You want to look away, but you don’t. That’s the whole trick - it makes you complicit. It’s not about sex, not really. It’s about wanting to control what you can’t. And maybe that’s the dirtiest thing of all.

Game hits you with a gut punch right in the menu. You’re this 25-year-old guy who already had his “happily ever after” and then it just gets ripped away from him. No heroic bullshit, no magical fix, he’s a wreck. First scenes are him looking like a zombie, barely functioning, and I liked that they don’t sugarcoat it. He’s numb, he’s angry, he drinks too much, he makes bad choices, sometimes you just click through like “yeah, I’ve seen this guy on Discord at 4% battery and 0% will to live.” And then, in the middle of all that, the game suddenly drops this tall blonde girl in a tight sport uniform with a ridiculous ass and you realize, okay, this is not just depression simulator, there is definitely some cock therapy incoming. Her tits look heavy in that jersey, jiggle a bit when she leans forward, and I swear the dev has a personal obsession with thighs, because the way those shorts ride up when she stretches before practice? That’s where 30% of my saves went. I kept quicksaving right before dialogue choices just to see how slutty or tender that same scene could go, like switching between two different timelines where you’re either a broken puppy or a horny asshole who still somehow gets rewarded.

Thing is, the sex doesn’t happen in a vacuum. You can feel the main guy still carrying all that grief into every scene. There’s a moment on the bleachers where she’s straddling him, sport top pushed up just enough to show those big tits bouncing while she jerks him off under the night lights, and he suddenly spaces out, thinking of his dead lover, and you get this ugly mix of hard-on and guilt. It’s hot and uncomfortable at the same time, which I kinda loved, even though at one point the pacing goes to shit because the game keeps stopping the dirty talk to drop another sad monologue. You get animated vaginal scenes where her ass fills the whole screen, cheeks slapping, sweat on her back, that little bounce in her ponytail while she rides him on the locker room bench, and then right after that they’re talking about addiction and suicide like you just didn’t have your dick in your hand twenty seconds earlier. The tonal whiplash is nuts. But the small stuff sticks with me: her fingers tightening on his shoulder when he finally thrusts up with some actual energy, her trying to hide how wet she is after “innocent” training, that one shot where the camera lingers too long on the curve of her hip as she walks away and you notice a tiny bruise from earlier practice. I hated how the text sometimes explains things I already get from the visuals, yet I kept playing, saving, loading, chasing slightly different ways to make this broken guy lose himself between her legs again, just to see if he looks a bit less dead inside when he finally comes.