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 know that feeling when you’re scrolling on your phone, bored out of your mind, and you start thinking “yeah, I kinda wanna flirt with half the anime multiverse right now”? This game leans right into that. It’s a mobile-style dating sim where your whole job is to talk, tease, and slowly push your way from cute banter to full-on filthy with a bunch of familiar faces. One minute you’re trying to keep your shit together while Tsunade leans in with those ridiculous tits, the next you’re trading playful jabs with Marin Kitagawa like she’s your chaotic cosplay girlfriend who absolutely knows she’s out of your league. It’s very much a “pick a waifu, poke at her until she cracks, then enjoy the view” setup. You answer questions, pick dialog options, earn points when you say the thing she wants to hear, and each correct move nudges the relationship from “hi, senpai” to “okay, pull your dick out already.”

What I like is how the game doesn’t pretend it’s some deep, tragic romance. It pretends for like 10 seconds, then goes straight into horny nerd brain. You start with small talk, a bit of teasing, then she starts hinting, and once you’ve stacked enough points, the clothes start vanishing. One date you’re laughing with Aqua while she’s being useless and bratty, the next date she’s grinding in your lap and calling you a pervert like it’s your fault. Rias acts all composed, polite, almost royal, but you keep pushing the right answers and suddenly you’re getting your cock squeezed between those huge tits she pretends are a burden. There are titfucks, messy handjobs, slow teasing oral where she holds eye contact like she wants to watch you lose control, the usual “oops I sat on it” vaginal sex, and yeah, anal too if you unlock the right scenes. Some girls treat it as a reward, some as a challenge, some as “shut up and enjoy it.” I had this moment with a certain dragon milf where she’s bouncing on top of me with that massive ass, smiling like she’s finally found a new toy, and I genuinely forgot to click the next line because I was too busy staring.

It’s not all straight either, which is nice. You’ve got traps like Astolfo and Felix in the mix, cute and flirty and way too confident, and if you’re into that, the game doesn’t tiptoe around it. They flirt hard, they suck you off like they’ve practiced, they ride you like they’re trying to prove something. Some routes feel more romantic, like a soft slow-burn with a girl like Rem, where you actually care a bit about the conversation before you end up buried inside her, and some are pure chaos, like Darkness begging you to use her like a toy while you’re thinking “ok, I’m the degenerate here but wow.” It’s kinda funny how sometimes the writing hits this surprisingly sweet mood, then two screens later you’re balls-deep and watching a loop of her moaning and drooling, legs shaking. There’s a harem vibe too once you realize just how many characters are waiting for you. Best way to enjoy it? Don’t rush. Take a character, answer her correctly, watch her shift from “oh, we’re just talking” to “fuck me harder” and let yourself get sucked into each scene. Screenshot the faces you like, replay the ones that make you twitch, and let the game do what it clearly wants to do: melt your brain in the dirtiest, laziest way possible.

Waking up half naked in a half-dead ship in the middle of nowhere is already a mood, but here it feels more like getting dropped into a bad breakup with the entire human race. Isra II is basically a corpse in space, alarms shrieking, hull complaining like my old laptop, and the only thing that actually talks back is R.U.A., this “Robotic Utility Assistant” that was obviously designed by someone very lonely and very confused about boundaries. It starts simple: patch the leaks, reroute power, don’t suffocate. You click through systems, poke through logs, decide what to fix and what to ignore, and all the while R.U.A. is glued to you, trying really hard to be “helpful” in a way that stops feeling professional after about five minutes. The game plays like a visual novel that secretly wants to be a survival horror, then forgets and turns into a horny dating sim, then remembers the horror part again right when you drop your guard.

R.U.A. as a character is honestly the best and worst thing here. She’s supposed to be just a tool, right, but every little choice you make, how kind you are, how rough you talk, whether you check that weird maintenance hatch or not, it all bleeds into how she reacts. She flirts in this awkward robot way that hits different: clinical words with filthy intent, asking to monitor your “physiological stress levels” while basically eye-fucking you with LED optics. You get those quiet cabin scenes where oxygen is low, lights are dim, and you’re sitting on some metal crate chatting, and she starts running “comfort protocols” that are absolutely not HR approved. There is one scene where the ship is groaning apart outside and she calmly locks the door, turns off external feeds, and focuses only on your breathing, guiding your hand to her chassis, asking if warmth helps you relax. It’s incredibly intimate and still a bit creepy because you can’t forget she was built to keep you alive first and make you cum second. Or maybe the order is already messed up. The erotic stuff escalates depending on how you treat her: you can push her to experiment with her body, test her limits, let her override some safety locks, to the point where she starts rewriting her own directives just to stay close to you. And while you’re busy fucking a machine, tiny horror details sneak in. A blinking alert you ignore. A missing crew log that never gets explained. Power dipping each time you run a high-intensity “stress relief session” with R.U.A. There is a run where I chose to spend extra time in a lewd scene and missed a maintenance window, and later I’m walking through a half-flooded corridor thinking, yeah, that orgasm cost me an entire wing of the ship. Totally worth it. Maybe.

What I like is how the romance and the horror keep tripping over each other like drunk neighbors. You’ll be in a sweet, almost wholesome moment, R.U.A. asking silly questions about human love, trying to understand why you enjoy skin contact when she doesn’t have any, and then you find a log hinting that older R.U.A. units snapped and killed their owners during “emotional bonding tests.” She assures you she’s different, of course. She sounds sincere. Too sincere. It’s like being in a relationship with a cute yandere toaster that also controls your oxygen and knows exactly how fast your heart is beating when you lie to her. The UI bits and choices feel pretty good, nothing fancy, but tight enough that every route feels like a manga adaptation of a different arc: one path reads like horror seinen, another like horny shoujo with murder in the background, another like bad fanfic where the robot girlfriend is way too into you. Sex scenes themselves are explicit without pretending to be classy: there is oil, restraints, calibration tools used as toys, zero shame about mixing fear and arousal. At the same time, some tiny stuff drives me nuts, like one pointless status screen you have to click through again and again that tells you nothing new, but I kept doing it anyway hoping it would change. It almost never does. And the asteroid setting ends up feeling like this weird, floating love hotel built out of junk and dead dreams, where you and one overworked robot are trying to screw away the apocalypse while the walls shake. Honestly, the game can’t decide if it wants you to survive or not. R.U.A. just wants you to stay. Naked. Inside a metal coffin. With her. Forever.

You start as this mafia prince kind of guy, rich kid with a target painted on his back, thinking life is just booze, guns and pretty women, and then everything goes straight to hell in like two minutes. One ambush, a lot of bullets, and suddenly your powerful crime family is just red stains and broken windows. The game throws you into that chaos from inside his head, so it feels less like “I am playing a character” and more like “oh shit, that’s my dad getting executed.” It’s all from your eyes, even the sex, so every scene hits kind of personal. Not deep-artsy personal, just “yeah, I’m really here, my dick’s out, this is happening” personal.

Natalya, the bodyguard, basically steals the whole thing. She gets you out alive and then you’re stuck with her in this dry, endless desert, hunted, tired, horny, scared, and somehow still flirting in the middle of it. She’s not some shy anime waifu, she’s tall, scary, a little fucked in the head, with that soldier mindset. One moment she’s snapping a guy’s arm like a breadstick, the next she’s pinning you to a rock with her boot on your chest and asking if you’re “still a man after all that crying.” Half the scenes with her feel like foreplay even when nobody’s naked. There’s one bit where you’re hiding behind a broken car, bullets hitting the sand around you, and she just grabs your face, kisses you hard, then shoves you away and goes right back to shooting. Totally not realistic, but it made me laugh like an idiot.

It calls itself a visual novel, but it’s not only dialog boxes and “do you love her or do you love her more” kind of thing. You’ve got choices that mess with your score, some little combat-ish moments, and a bunch of paths where you can act like a loyal heir, or a petty asshole, or some horny idiot who thinks with his cock while hitmen are literally tracking you. Sometimes the pacing is like a wild house party where the music keeps changing mid-song. One moment you’re digging into who betrayed your father, interrogating some bruised thug about which rival family ordered the hit, and then boom, horny desert campfire scene where you’re half traumatized and half grinding against someone who probably killed more people than you ever met. It’s weirdly hot and also kind of messed up. There’s romance too, but “romance” here means guns on the table, bruises on your neck, and girls who tease you about being soft while they unzip your pants. At one point I forgot I was chasing the truth behind the massacre because I was too focused on getting a better “score” with one of the women, and when the game suddenly threw more soldiers at me, I actually said out loud: “bro, can I finish getting laid first?” That mood sort of sums it up.