Starship discipline is completely fucked here, in the funniest, dirtiest way possible. You get handed the captain’s chair on the Cerritos, but it feels more like they dumped you in a floating frat house filled with horny degenerates in Starfleet colors. Everyone is used to Admiral Freeman looking the other way, so when you start trying to clean things up, the crew basically tells you to suck it. Half the time you’re walking down a corridor and some ensign has their uniform half open, covered in cum, trying to hide a hard-on or wiping drool off their lips after “checking the sonic shower.” The ship looks like Star Trek, but the mood is more like a super trashy porn parody where nobody remembered the part about “professional behavior.” And you are absolutely encouraged to abuse that.

The center of the chaos is Beckett Mariner, of course. She knows you can’t just throw the admiral’s daughter out an airlock, so she tests every limit she can. One moment she’s lounging in your chair with her boots on the console, tits almost spilling out of her uniform jacket, fake-innocent face and those stupid ahegao eyes when you finally snap and drag her into the ready room. The game really likes that shift from “smartass brat” to “corrupted little cumtoy,” especially when you start using blackmail. You catch her in compromising spots, collect dirty data, and then slowly push things from “get on your knees and swallow” to “bend over the tactical console, I want to see just how tight that ass is.” She resists in that playful way at first, talks back, but the art leans heavy into humiliation: tears in the corners of her eyes, tongue out, mascara a mess, expression halfway between hating you and begging you to creampie her again. The AI-style CG is weirdly perfect for this kind of parody, everything slightly exaggerated, breasts too big for regulation uniforms, cumshots overdramatic, but it fits the whole “cheap bootleg holodeck program” vibe. And it is animated, so you really sit there watching her get filled, milk leaking, mouth drooling, your choices affecting if she ends up more broken-in, covered in bukkake like a used toy, or still pretending she’s in control while she rides you and moans your rank.

What caught me off guard is how the game doesn’t just stop at “straight captain dominates bratty officer.” Lower deck kids and random crew open up way dirtier routes. You walk into the cargo bay and spot two male ensigns “wrestling,” cocks out, one already dripping. That can spiral into you forcing them to service you as punishment, lining them up and choosing who takes you in the ass, who licks your balls clean, who drinks the load. There is gay stuff that doesn’t feel like an afterthought, more like the ship is just completely horny and nobody cares about orientation anymore. Then there is the whole trap and futa angle, uniforms hiding surprise dicks, big tits paired with a throbbing cock that strains the Starfleet fabric. One minute you think you’re punishing a cute, shy communications officer, next moment she drops her pants and you’re staring at a hard shaft and a wet slit both, and the game just goes “yeah, use all of it.” You can force them to suck you, fuck them until their own cum sprays on the control panel, or take it yourself if you lean into being a greedy captain who wants every hole filled. There are scenes where you make an officer pump milk out of her huge tits right onto the floor while everyone watches, or you order a line of crew to kneel and finish them off one by one, covering faces and mouths until they look like someone set a bukkake filter over a still from Lower Decks. Then there are cheating bits, too: married officers getting reamed in your quarters, whispering that their partner doesn’t touch them like this, while you record everything for later blackmail. It’s unapologetically trashy, sometimes mean, and occasionally so over the top you just start laughing, but it keeps that Star Trek parody flavor through all the corruption, like a filthy holodeck program somebody forgot to lock with a command code.

Summoning a demon for revenge sounds cool in theory, right? You light some candles from Dollar Store, mumble a half-remembered chant you found on some shady forum, and expect a dramatic but classy spirit to show up and help you screw over your enemies. Instead, this game hands you a horny vengeance demon who absolutely did not get the memo about “professional boundaries”. You play as this poor human guy who clearly thought he was in some edgy occult story, but the second that circle lights up, it turns into something way closer to “I accidentally ordered a sex-obsessed monster from hell and it’s not accepting refunds”. The tone is very “this was supposed to be scary, why is he licking my neck and asking about my taste in guys”.

What I really like is that the demon isn’t just a generic muscle dude with horns slapped on. He looks wrong in a hot way. Eyes a little too sharp, posture too confident, smile just on the edge of predatory. He’s got this vibe where he talks about tearing out someone’s soul, then immediately pivots into teasing the protagonist about being “tempted already, aren’t you?”. The game keeps mixing violence talk and sexual stuff, like he describes revenge as if it’s foreplay, and sometimes it is actually hard to tell if he wants to rip the bully apart or watch the bully fuck you until you cry, for “punishment”. There are a couple scenes where he sits too close and touches a bit too long, and the art really sells that feeling of “I should not be turned on by this, but I am”. When his claws rest on the MC’s throat during a “friendly” chat, yeah, that detail stays in your head.

The writing leans into the gay tension without pretending it’s healthy. This is not soft-boy BL. The protagonist is in over his head and the demon knows it and enjoys it. There are lines like “You called me here to hurt them, but look at you, already trembling from my fingers. Maybe you were the real offering.” He says stuff like that while dragging his claws over bare skin and you just know it will leave marks later. The game doesn’t jump into instant sex; it teases, presses, corners. The first time the MC wakes up with the demon in his bed, half shifted, tail coiled around his leg, hand low on his stomach, that’s the turning point where it stops being “oops, magic went wrong” and becomes “I belong to something not human and he’s enjoying breaking me in”. The sex when it finally happens is intense and rough, full of that “you asked for this” dirty talk that borders on humiliating. The demon treats the MC like both toy and worshipper, grabs his hair, forces eye contact, uses strength he clearly doesn’t need, drags out his orgasm until he’s crying, then casually reminds him that their pact isn’t finished yet. If you like your yaoi with claws, teeth, possessive monsters and a protagonist who gradually gives in to it all, this hits that exact spot where fear and arousal tangle up so much you can’t see the line anymore.

You arrive at this quiet little island full of monks expecting bored chanting, cold stone floors and a lot of “yes, Father, no, Father”. Instead, the first thing that hits you is how every single guy here looks like he escaped from a thirst trap Twitter thread. Big shoulders, heavy robes that don’t hide much, soft voices that sound polite but keep slipping into something way too intimate. They call each other “Brother” and it somehow sounds filthier than if they just said “hey dude”. It’s a priory, sure. But it’s also basically a horny pressure cooker in a fancy library.

On paper you’re just a new scribe, helping build some grand magical tome together, copying runes, learning the rules, trying not to set anything on fire. In reality you’re stuck in this weird fantasy monastery where every study session threatens to turn into something you really shouldn’t be doing next to sacred candles. That quiet, awkward guy who corrects your grammar in the margin? Watch him loosen his collar and suddenly he’s pressing you against the bookshelf, whispering how “the Sisters are always watching” while his hand goes lower anyway. The arrogant prodigy who acts like he knows every spell already? He’s the one who blushes the hardest when you decide to test how much focus he really has during a late night “review”. A simple choice like staying behind to help clean the scriptorium can spiral into a slow burn moment where you’re both standing too close, fingers brushing over the same page, and nobody steps back. Or sometimes it’s not slow at all. Sometimes it’s rough breaths in the dark corner, robes pushed aside, ink still drying on your hands while he grinds against you like he’s been waiting months.

The whole thing plays out like this gay fantasy drama where magic research, religious duty and raw physical need keep crashing into each other. People argue about spell theory in the morning and then end up panting into each other’s necks at night, swearing it was a one time mistake, obviously not happening again, until it does. You get pulled into mysteries about what the priory is really doing, where the powers come from, why some of the Brothers wake up shaking from dreams they refuse to describe, while you’re still trying to decide whose bed you actually want to sneak into. Some scenes are slow and romantic, bodies pressed together while candlelight flickers and one of them admits he’s terrified of losing you. Others are downright filthy, with your back hitting old stone, your robe rucked up around your waist and a big, desperate monk rutting into you like confession is just a suggestion. And it never feels like cheap porn pasted on top of story; the sex grows straight out of all that tension you’ve been building with these guys, one choice at a time, until resisting them just doesn’t make sense anymore.

This one feels like somebody took a messy crime drama, smashed it into a horny monster-boy VN, then forgot to sand the edges, and honestly that kinda works. You play this bottom-tier yakuza loser who keeps fucking up, the kind of guy who probably gets lost using Google Maps, and in pure panic he calls up a demon. Not some cute imp either, but Ambrosilas, this tall murder genie bastard with horns, claws, and the kind of body that looks like “gym is my religion and also I kill people.” He has this very clear rule set: you give him evil people to slaughter, or he slaughters you instead. Super simple. You immediately screw it up of course, because your target turns out to be... not that bad. And then it becomes this slow car crash where you flirt with the thing that could rip your spine out, while trying not to accidentally send him after someone who just litters too much or something.

What I like is how the game keeps sliding between stupidly funny and surprisingly sweet without ever really warning you. One minute your guy is shitting himself because Ambrosilas is casually talking about ripping organs out, next minute he’s like “ok but do you think my ass looks good in this” and the demon actually answers. There’s a sex scene where you end up with your face shoved in the sheets while this huge demon dick pushes in, and in the middle of it he’s calmly interrogating you about why you joined the yakuza, like it’s a therapy session that happens to include anal. The writing sometimes feels like fanfic written at school on a phone, then you hit a line where Ambrosilas gets genuinely offended that you think he can’t be romantic, and suddenly you’re weirdly invested. Also there’s this tiny pointless choice about what snack you buy at a convenience store that never really pays off and it annoyed me way more than the actual death threats. I keep wondering why they let me pick it if nobody was gonna comment that I bought the worst chips. But whatever. When the demon pins you against a filthy wall and growls in your ear about how “filthy humans like you only deserve pain, unless you beg better,” your brain just short-circuits. The yaoi stuff hits hard too, especially when the MC starts realizing he’s not just scared, he’s turned on by the claws on his throat, and he keeps trying to joke his way out of it like that makes it less gay. It doesn’t. And then the romance creeps in from the side, half hidden under threats and black humor, like when Ambrosilas grumbles that you’re an annoying criminal but still shields you with his body from another monster, like some fucked up demon boyfriend you absolutely should not introduce on Discord. It’s chaotic, horny, sometimes clumsy, sometimes oddly gentle, and it all kind of fits this idiot criminal falling for a murder genie who really, really enjoys rearranging people’s insides.