Possession Portal

I sprinted back to camp, heart thumping like crazy, still clutching that bit of parchment with “Cyrus” scribbled on it. The sky was turning orange as the sun dipped, which kind of made Esther’s tent look weirdly inviting.

“Esther!” I called out, catching my breath. “You in there?” I heard her talking quietly inside, so I figured she was there. Once I’d calmed down a little, I blurted, “I found something about the dungeon—a name, Cyrus.”

There was this long, awkward silence. Then the tent flap pulled back and Esther’s voice came, quiet but steady: “Step inside, Jasper.”

I hesitated for a second, then ducked in. What I saw nearly knocked me over—Esther, totally naked in the low light, standing there like it was nothing. I caught a glimpse between her thighs and just… stared.

“Esther…” I said, a little breathless. But she didn’t waste any time, just zipped the tent shut behind me and closed the space between us. Next thing I knew, she was pressing up against me, kissing me hard, her body hot against mine. My head spun. There was no thinking, just pure feeling—Esther everywhere, her skin, her scent, her hands moving fast.

I barely even noticed the mess in her tent—papers everywhere, her nun outfit tossed in the corner. All I could focus on was her, pulling at my clothes, getting me out of my pants. I couldn’t help but grind against her touch, hard and aching.

She dropped down and her mouth hovered over my cock through the fabric. I shuddered when she started kissing down my length, the anticipation killing me. She yanked my pants down and I let out a shaky breath, my cock out and throbbing.

Esther looked up, eyes brighter than I’d ever seen, with this half-wicked smile. Not her usual calm, churchy self at all. She went down on me, slow at first, tongue circling the tip, then taking more and more until my head was spinning. I moaned—couldn’t help it—and she just kept going, one hand on my balls, the other bracing herself against my thigh.

I was close, right on the edge, when she suddenly stopped. She stood up, turned around, and gave me this perfect view of her ass. She looked over her shoulder, then eased herself down, guiding my cock inside her, both of us moaning at the feeling.

She was tight and so damn wet, moving her hips to get every inch. Every time she rocked against me it felt even better. The tent filled with the sound of skin slapping, both of us panting and grunting, chasing that high. It wasn’t long before I lost control and came inside her, my whole body tensing as I finished.

She stayed on top for a second, then finally pulled off, my cum dripping out of her. Then she bent down and licked me clean, shooting me this challenging look that made my brain short out.

When I could finally breathe, I managed to ask, “Esther, what’s going on? Why are you doing this?”

She just grinned, cheeks flushed. “I wanted to try something different,” she said, looking a little shy for the first time, “and I figured you were the right person for it.”

I laughed, still dazed, looking her up and down. “This isn’t really you, you know? Not that I’m complaining.”

She nodded, but smiled even wider. “I feel great, Jasper. If it’s too much, just tell me. I don’t want things to get weird.”

I shook my head, completely honest. “No, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. Honestly, I don’t think I can get enough now.”

The Guild was a hive of noise when Jasper stepped inside—adventurers shouting, gear clanking, the air thick with energy. Behind the reception desk sat June, her chestnut curls bouncing as she looked up with a familiar smile. Her warm honey eyes sparkled, and despite years behind a desk, her athletic frame still hinted at her old adventuring days. The gold Guild emblem gleamed on her uniform, a badge of her role.

“Jasper! How’s it going?” she asked, her voice bright as she set aside a stack of papers.

“Been a wild few days,” Jasper admitted, scratching his head.

He turned to the quest board, scanning the listings, but his heart sank. The quests were all low-tier again. June caught his frown and leaned forward, concern creasing her brow.

“Yeah, about that,” she said, sighing. “The Guild’s locked down high-level quests for now. Someone slipped into a legendary gate in Moonlight Grove, and the Guildmaster’s making sure no one got hurt before things go back to normal.”

Jasper’s stomach twisted, guilt hitting him hard. He and Esther were the ones who’d snuck into that dungeon. He forced a nod, throat tight. “That’s um… rough.”

Trying to shift gears, he put on a grin. “Got anything else, June? I’m getting antsy just sitting around.”

She gave him a knowing smile and pulled a scroll from under the desk. “There’s a subjugation quest—local mob boss stirring up trouble.”

Jasper grimaced. He wasn’t big on fighting people, but the itch for action was stronger than his reluctance. “I’ll take it,” he said, grabbing the scroll. He thanked June and headed out.

The Ardglass market buzzed outside, stalls packed with fruits, meats, and fabrics. One booth stood out, cluttered with gadgets that screamed dwarven craftsmanship—except the guy behind it was no dwarf. Vestelle, a high elf barely five feet tall, grinned at him, his delicate, almost feminine features lit with mischief. His light eyes gleamed, and his cheeky vibe made it hard to believe he was peddling such odd wares.

“Look what the Tabaxi dragged in!” Vestelle called, leaning on the counter. “Jasper, you old dog!”

“Could say the same about you,” Jasper shot back, eyeing the trinkets—gears, gizmos, and weird contraptions no elf would usually touch.

“So, what’s the deal? Need a shiny bauble to charm the ladies or a gadget to save your ass?” Vestelle asked, arching a brow.

“Just browsing,” Jasper said, scanning the chaotic display. “You always got something weird.”

They bantered about Vestelle’s travels, the Guild’s dry spell, and his bizarre inventory. Vestelle was crude but warm, the kind of guy you couldn’t help but like, even when he was swearing up a storm.

“Hey, you hear the latest?” Vestelle said, his voice dripping with glee. “Some nutter cleared that legendary dungeon in Moonlight Grove. Poof—gone like a ghost. Wild, right?”

Jasper’s heart skipped, his face flushing. The news was already out. Should he fess up? Vestelle’s grin egged him on, like he lived for this kind of gossip. “Uh, Vestelle… that was me,” Jasper mumbled.

Vestelle’s eyes went wide, and he burst out laughing, slapping his thigh. “You bloody madman! Always knew you had a knack for stirring up shit!”

Jasper rubbed his neck, half-embarrassed, half-relieved. “Didn’t mean to cause a fuss. Esther and I just… got sucked into it. One minute we’re at camp, the next we’re in that dungeon.”

Vestelle leaned in, laughter fading to curiosity. “You and the healer, eh? Come on, spill it.”

Jasper recounted the tale—the lilac smoke at the gate, the twisting corridors, the alchemist’s study packed with secrets. He told of losing Esther, finding her slime-soaked but alive, and the gold chest that changed everything. Vestelle hung on every word, gasping and chuckling, his questions sharp and eager.

When Jasper finished, Vestelle whistled. “Mate, you and Esther hit the jackpot.”

“I’m still wrapping my head around it,” Jasper admitted, his gaze drifting over the booth. Then he froze. A stack of parchment caught his eye—the handwriting matched the dungeon’s notes. “Vestelle, what’re these?”

Vestelle glanced down, shrugging. “Found ‘em near the dungeon. Notes from some alchemist named Cyrus. No clue who he is.”

Cyrus. The name meant nothing, but the coincidence was too much. “Weren’t most alchemists purged by the kingdom back in the day?” Jasper asked, digging through hazy memories of history.

“Yup,” Vestelle nodded. “Kingdom cleaned house. Probably why this Cyrus guy’s a ghost.”

Jasper’s mind raced. These notes might explain the dungeon’s secrets. “How much for them?” he asked, already reaching for his coin pouch.

“For you? free,” Vestelle said, eyes twinkling. “Reckon you’ll get more use out of ‘em than me, plus I got a nice tale out 'cha.”

Jasper tucked the parchments into his bag. “Thanks, Vestelle. I gotta show these to Esther.”

“keep me in the loop on any more dungeon shenanigans!”Vestelle called with a grin.

A faint light flickered in the heavy darkness far down the hallway as Jasper retraced his steps. It was the first change he’d seen since leaving the second room, and with no other options, he headed toward it. There hadn’t been any doors or torches for a while now.

The doors he’d passed earlier were gone, replaced by seamless bricks blending into the walls. The torch holders had vanished too, as if the rooms had never been there.

At the hallway’s end, Jasper found two marble doors, each flanked by a torch. His gut told him this was the boss room.

Without pausing, he shoved the doors open. He was done thinking; the whole ordeal had drained him, and he just wanted it over. To his surprise, the doors swung easily, no force needed. And there she was.

“Esther!” Jasper rushed to his teammate, lifting her limp form from the floor and cradling her in his arms. “Esther! You OK? Wake up!”

Esther was soaked in slime, her clothes torn in spots, exposing patches of skin. A flush of embarrassment hit Jasper, his mind briefly wandering to awkward places. He slapped his cheek, muttering, “Calm down, she’s your teammate.”

He pressed his fingers to her neck. Her pulse was erratic, her muscles twitched randomly, and her breathing was ragged. She was alive, and that let Jasper breathe a little easier as he scanned the room.

He’d been lucky—no traps had sprung when he’d charged in like an idiot. The room was wide but empty. An open stone chest sat in front of them, and a gold door loomed behind it. Whatever had been here likely attacked Esther and fled. Jasper didn’t know any monster that left its prey like this, but the room was clear of threats—just him and Esther. Still, the creature was out there, and he had to stay sharp to avoid her fate.

A loud rumble echoed as the golden doors began to open. Jasper pulled Esther close, one hand gripping his claymore’s handle. He stared at the widening gap. The doors revealed a gold chest—a sign of prime loot and a hint that the boss monster had been dealt with somehow.

Jasper hoisted Esther onto his back, using the empty stone chest for support as he stood. Step by step, he approached the gold chest. A blinding light burst out as he lifted the lid, dimming to reveal a heap of gold and gems.

“Holy shit.” He wasn’t kidding. This much gold could set his whole party up for life. They barely scraped by on one silver a month; with this, they could live free forever, taking jobs just for kicks.

Jasper caught Esther before she slid off his back, the sight of the treasure leaving him stunned. He’d expected gear, weapons, or potions from the alchemist, but this was more gold than he’d ever seen in one place. He opened his adventurer’s pouch, and it magically swallowed the entire haul.

A magic circle glowed beneath him, its pattern familiar this time. Jasper checked that Esther and his sack were secure, then closed his eyes and let the magic whisk them away.

“Hey, Esther,” Jasper said, rubbing his eyes, still trying to shake the vivid images from last night. “Did you hear anyone… uh, come into my tent last night?”

She looked at him with her kind eyes, a faint smile on her lips. “No, Jasper, I didn’t hear anything. Why do you ask?”

He hesitated, unsure if he should spill about his…dream. “Just had a really… intense dream, that’s all.”

Esther raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her gaze, but she didn’t push. “Well, I hope you’re feeling rested now. Breakfast’ll be ready soon.”

“What’s for breakfast?” Jasper asked, the enticing aroma from the pot pulling his focus.

“I whipped up some soup with the last of our potatoes, dried meat, and beans,” Esther replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “After we eat, maybe we should hit the market in Ardglass.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jasper agreed, digging into the warm, hearty soup. “What’d you put in this? It tastes incredible!”

Esther grinned. “Salt, pepper, thyme, and the special ingredient…” She leaned in close, whispering in his ear, “is love.”

Jasper’s face flushed, a shiver running down his spine as her soft voice triggered flashbacks of the night before. He couldn’t stop wondering who that sultry mystery figure was. Esther giggled at his blush, and he quickly buried his face in the soup, savoring every drop of that love-infused goodness.

This is oddly wholesome

Jasper found Oman alone, hunched over a worn book that looked like it held the world’s secrets. His silver hair caught the firelight, shimmering like moonlight, giving him that otherworldly vibe he always carried. Jasper cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward about interrupting. Oman’s pale blue eyes flicked up, curious but calm, inviting him to spill whatever was eating at him.

“Hey, Oman,” Jasper started, his voice catching with nerves. “I… need your advice.”

Oman closed the book with a smooth motion, setting it aside, his full attention on Jasper. “What’s on your mind?” His voice was steady, almost soothing, like he could talk you down from a cliff.

Jasper took a breath and dove in, telling him about the dreams—the shadowy figure, the glowing purple eyes that wouldn’t leave his head. He watched Oman’s face, hoping for some kind of answer in his expression, but the wizard stayed unreadable, just listening.

“Sounds like a succubus, maybe?” Oman said, his tone as neutral as ever, like they were discussing the weather instead of something freaky.

“But they don’t hit the same person twice, right?” Jasper asked, leaning forward.

“Usually not,” Oman agreed. He stood, moving to his pack with that quiet grace of his, and pulled out a small pouch. From it, he took a piece of parchment, a quill, and a vial of ink. He started chanting under his breath, the words soft but heavy with power. His fingers moved fast, sketching strange symbols across the parchment, each stroke deliberate, like he was weaving a spell right there.

The air around them hummed, charged with something Jasper couldn’t name. Oman finished the incantation and studied the parchment, his eyes narrowing. After a long moment, he let out a small sigh, his shoulders relaxing.

“No succubus,” he said, looking up at Jasper, his voice still even. “Seems like you’re just having… vivid dreams, Jasper. It happens sometimes.”

So, basically, Jasper was just some lovesick fool chasing fantasies in his sleep. Great.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, his face burning. “Thanks, Oman.”

Oman gave a small nod and went back to his book, the pages pulling him in like nothing had happened. Jasper shuffled off, feeling like an idiot, those purple eyes still haunting him.

Christening this side of the website, haha.

I’d like to do a wholesome-ish (or not lol) roleplay where I had just moved into a cheap apartment that’s haunted by a resentful ghost who is fully capable of possessing bodies!

Who am I?
I’m Finn! Male, 21, currently a student at Maplewood University in California, studying God knows what yet. I got brown hair, green eyes, toned skin, and I work out just enough to have some muscles. In my free time I like gaming, cooking, and just general vibing. I’m single like a Pringle, my ex cheated on me a while back and I haven’t had much luck with women since. I have a few good friends that made it into the same uni - Tris, a lesbo lacrosse player with that blonde horse girl vibe, and Jason, a nerd that plays the same games that I do and more.

Why was it so cheap you ask?

$450 a month! Can you believe it?
Some say it’s been haunted by a resentful ghost!
I say, who cares? It’s cheap! Cheap mm rent isn’t easy to come by these days, and daddy’s trying to save up for a new gaming PC! Tired of lagging and crashing over the most basic games, it’s bullshit.

What are my future aspirations?
Fuck if I know, lol. I don’t even know what major I’m taking yet. I know I’d like a girlfriend soon though. Being able to do a kick flip would be kinda cool but I can’t skate.

NOTE: All of the information above is fictional.

Roleplay Notes
Hi there, I’m Milk and I’ve been RPing for about 5 years now! I am pansexual and a switch, and although I prefer to play male in this RP, I’m typically open to play any gender.
My kinks include oral, anal, body worship, foreplay, kissing, biting, sex toys, femboys, futa, surprise m/m, public play, hidden sex, blackmailing, BDSM, demon/spirit/alien/parasitic possession, skinsuits, parasites, personality excretion, skinsuits, yucky person/personality in cute body, and handholding.
My limits are odors, scat, and hyper.

Feel free to ask about anything not listed above!

I’d appreciate if you have read to the end, because that’d make the process oh so easier.

I look forward to hearing from you!

Jasper jolted awake, sweat slicking his skin, the night’s heat sinking deep into his bones. A restless ache pulsed through him, undeniable, urgent. His cock throbbed, hard and unyielding, and it demanded release.

The mystery woman from his dreams haunted his mind as his hand drifted down, fingers slick with pre-cum. Loneliness gnawed at him, a sharp craving for her touch. He stroked himself, breaths ragged in the still night, chasing relief.

Then, sounds broke the silence—moans and the rhythmic slap of skin from nearby tents. Zarah and Oman, their low groans stoking the fire in Jasper’s gut. But it was Nia’s voice, soft and sultry from the tent next to his, that hit him hardest.

His hand moved faster, breath catching. Picturing what Nia might be doing based on her moans, he came with a muffled grunt, the release intense but his cock stayed hard, hungry for more.

Drawn by raw desire, Jasper crept to Nia’s tent. The cloth tent’s entrance was draped slightly open, just enough for him to peek through. Inside, Nia was lost in her own world, one hand circling her clit, the other teasing a nipple to a stiff peak. The sight was electric, searing itself into his brain, and his hand found his cock again, stroking in time with her movements.

Her moans filled the air, a wicked melody pushing him to the edge. He shuddered, climaxing again, his cum splattering against Nia’s tent flap.

Guilt crashed over him like a cold wave, dousing the heat. He’d crossed a line. Heart pounding, he slipped back to his tent, closing it shut, the night’s mix of thrill and shame churning in his chest.

You know, I wouldn’t mind taking on this curse myself. Yes, yes, I know, I’m incredibly brave for facing such a deadly curse.

A few moments later, Jasper and Esther reached another closed door. They repeated their routine: Esther tossed in a torch as Jasper kicked the door open. The room glowed with magic stones embedded in wall-mounted lanterns. A massive altar-like stand dominated the center, with a cluttered table against the left wall. They stepped inside cautiously, ears straining for any hint of a trap, but like the last room, it was silent.

The stand was enormous, big enough for two grown men to lie side by side. Jasper touched its surface, the cold biting like a coin in winter. He joined Esther at the messy table, where she was examining a scalpel among scattered utensils. Papers covered in detailed drawings of human, animal, and monster anatomy spilled across the table and floor. Esther had said the bedroom belonged to an alchemist, and this room likely did too.

“Looks like someone was in a hurry to get outta here,” Jasper said, gathering the notes into a bundle.

“Yeah, but what could scare an alchemist that bad?” Esther replied.

She had a point. Alchemists were tough; few things could rattle them. A chill shot through Jasper, his mind racing with thoughts of mythical creatures that might’ve spooked the alchemist—and could still be lurking in the dungeon.

Jasper scooped up the last of the writings, books, and tools, leaving the altar and table bare. He nodded to Esther, signaling he was done, and they stepped back into the lifeless hallway to continue their search.

It was strange to think someone had lived here, cut off from the world.

The only sounds were their footsteps echoing off the dungeon walls. The endless sameness of the bricks and mist was starting to drag Jasper down, heavy as a wet coat. Since the second door, no others had appeared, so the loop seemed to have ended, but an exit was still just a faint hope.

“I think it’s a good time to take a break,” Jasper said, turning to Esther. But behind him was nothing—just the empty hallway. Esther was gone.

“Esther?”

Silence.

The damp, hollow dungeon sent another shiver through him.

When had she vanished? Where was she? How long had he been walking alone? He had to find her. He’d been quiet, worn out, assuming she was too. He hadn’t noticed she was gone. It didn’t add up—how could she disappear without a sound?

His face flushed, his mind flooded with possibilities. Keeping on the same path probably wouldn’t help. Should he backtrack?

Twilight settled over the camp, painting the sky purple as we trudged back, arms full of new gear and grins on our faces. Esther got to work on supper, the smell of stew and flatbread soon drifting through the air.

“Adding that special ingredient again, Esther?” Jasper teased, nudging at their earlier banter.

Esther’s smile turned sly, a glint in her eye that felt like it hid something. “Everyone deserves some love tonight, why, sad you can’t just have it all to yourself?”

Oman barely glanced up from his book. “Long as it’s not poison, I don’t mind.”

Zarah’s laugh boomed across the camp. “Oh, come on, Oman! Smell that! It’s damn near heavenly.”

Nia slung an arm around Jasper’s shoulders. “You’re just lucky you’re not the one cooking, Oman. We’d be eating charred paper.”

The group’s laughter filled the clearing, but Jasper caught Esther stealing quick, guarded looks at Nia. It was subtle, like a shift in the air only he noticed. He tucked the observation away, another puzzle to unravel.

As night deepened, the stew bubbled in the pot, and the flatbread came off the fire crisp and golden. They gathered around, digging into the meal. Each bite was rich, bursting with flavor and that “love” Esther had promised, warming them from the inside out.

Chapter 1

Jasper froze when he heard “… a new gate in the north of Moonlight Grove.” Acting all casual, he shifted over and leaned against a wall near the two guys chatting, pretending he was just checking out the decorations.

“My brother stumbled on it while out roamin’ with his crew,” one guy said, his voice thick with a country drawl. “Ain’t in the gate log for that neck o’ the woods, so he’s fixin’ to report it tomorrow.”

“That’s how you know your brother’s got some sense,” the other said, spitting to the side. “Hand that news to any greenhorn adventurer, and they’d go barrelin’ in like a bull in a china shop.”

“Haw, much obliged. I been lookin’ up to him since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. He’s why I took to adventurin’.”

Gates are weird. Nobody knows where they come from or why they vanish. They just pop up as random doors anywhere, anytime. Scholars have tried to figure out if there’s a pattern, but no luck. So, because they’re so unpredictable, the Adventurer Guild says every dungeon has to be scouted and rated before anyone can go in.

Jasper hung around, picking up the gate’s location and a few other details before the guys started talking about boring stuff. He learned that gates usually give everyone the same loot, like it’s Valthor’s way of keeping things fair, the god of adventure who blesses bold journeys. But the lucky ones who get in first—called canaries—score way better stuff. Normal loot might be a few gems, but canaries could snag magic stones, scrolls, or engraved weapons, things Jasper and his crew could only dream of affording.

“I need to get there first.” Jasper didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until he was already jogging back. But he was right—this was his shot! He was barely scraping by, and he knew his party was in the same boat. He had to tell them.

The sun was still high, its rays slipping through the branches above. The sunlight felt amazing on his skin, the grass smelled so fresh, and before he knew it, Jasper was practically galloping through the woods like a circus horse hopped up on sugar.

Tucked between some trees and a few camo tarps was their campsite—just five cloth tents around a firepit. Nothing fancy, more like the opposite. Jasper called it the peasant’s stronghold: it felt like home, they treated it like home, but it wouldn’t stop a stiff breeze, let alone anything else.

As usual, most of the group was out, since today was their day off. Esther was the only one there, still cleaning up breakfast.

“Hi, Esther!” Jasper called.

“Hi, Jasper! How’d the quest report go?” she said, flashing a soft smile.

Esther, their healer, rocked her usual black veil and tunic—Jasper couldn’t remember ever seeing her without them. Her golden hair peeked out from under her headpiece like a secret stash, her eyes were like a calm river, and her skin was pale as fresh snow. A floral-patterned crucifix hung over her chest, marking her as a follower of Althea, the goddess of life and cycles.

“It was fine. Boring, mundane,” Jasper said, plopping down on a fallen log. “But I heard something juicy…”

“Oh dear, what happened?” Esther’s brows furrowed, her head tilting.

“Yeah, I found out about an unexplored gate—and get this, it’s not even documented!”

Esther’s eyes widened. “An undocumented gate? Are you saying we should check it out? What if it’s dangerous?”

“That’s the best part—it’s not!” Jasper grinned, barely containing himself. “I heard it’s a bronze gate, way below our level!”

“Hmm, that does sound doable… too bad it’s just us here,” Esther said, still cautious.

“What if we’re all we need?” Jasper shot back, watching her look confused. “The guys who found it sent a familiar in to check for traps or monsters, and it came up empty! They’re reporting it to the Guild tomorrow, so we could be the first ones there. Think about the loot—it could change everything!”

“Hmm… if that’s true, I guess we could give it a shot,” Esther said, her hand on her chin. “I’ve never been a canary before, so I’m kinda excited!”

“That’s the spirit! Let’s pack up! I’ve already got the coordinates on a teleportation scroll!”

Jasper groaned, his stomach churning. “Ugh… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that feeling.” Nausea hit hard as he opened his eyes. Something about teleportation always messed with him more than it did others.

“You alright, Jasper? Want me to cast a recovery spell?” Esther asked, her voice tinged with worry. She leaned toward him, her golden hair slipping out from her veil, her torso angled in concern.

“Nah, I’m good. Save your mana,” Jasper replied, taking a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. Even though the other party’s familiar hadn’t found any traps, that didn’t mean they were in the clear. “We should stay sharp, just in case. I’m fine now, let’s move.”

Jasper took one last deep breath and stood tall, eyeing the lone metal door in front of him. It stood there, looking harmless, covered in symmetrical carvings—patterns he’d never seen before. There was an odd beauty to it, like an ancient mandala. He didn’t know what the symbols meant, but staring at them brought a strange calm.

He stepped closer, reaching out to open the door. His fingertips brushed the cold metal, but before he could push, the door shuddered. Lilac smoke poured out from its edges, swirling around it like a wild, formless mane.

“DON’T BREATHE THE SMOKE!” Jasper yelled, throwing his forearm over his nose and mouth, hoping his sleeve would filter the air.

Thump

He spun around, dreading what he’d see. Esther was crumpled on the ground, her eyes shut tight.

Jasper’s mind raced. What do I do? He didn’t have an escape stone to get them out, and if he tried to grab her now, he’d probably pass out too.

His thoughts scrambled for a solution, but the world began to blur. The sharp lines of reality swirled together, like muddy water in a painter’s rinse bucket. Then, with the dull thud of his head hitting the ground, everything went black.

“-per, Jasper, wake up!”

Jasper’s body was being jostled back and forth, the sensation annoying as hell. He cracked his eyes open to see what was shaking him, and—

“Thank Althea!” Esther threw herself onto him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce bear hug, her eyes wet with relief.

“Esther? Where are we?” Jasper pressed a palm to his forehead, a throbbing headache hitting him harder than any teleportation nausea ever had.

“I think we’re in the dungeon…” Esther glanced around. They were in a hallway lined with dark wine-colored bricks, a faint mist swirling along the floor. Jasper had a bad feeling it was the same lilac smoke from before, though it was much thinner here.

“I think our only choice is to keep moving until we hit a fork in the road.” Jasper scanned the floor. Normally, a teleportation trap would leave a burned magical circle beneath them, but the maroon bricks were unmarked. “No telling when help’s coming.”

“Okay…” Esther helped him to his feet. The world still spun a bit, but it was better than when he’d first come to.

As they walked, doors started popping up every so often, each with a torch beside it. Jasper and Esther each grabbed a torch but left the doors alone. Without knowing what was on the other side, they agreed it was too risky to mess with them.

After a while, Jasper felt his sanity slipping. It was the same endless hallway, the same damn bricks, the same creepy mist.

“Hey, Jasper, look.” Esther pointed at a door on their right, flanked by two empty torch holders. “I think we’ve passed this door before!”

They’d been walking in a loop! Jasper had no clue how long the loop was, and he sure as hell didn’t want to keep trudging to find out. They were out of options.

“Alright, from now on, let’s start opening the doors. Doesn’t seem like we’ve got much else to work with.”

This…this is gold. The kind of twistedness that I thrive off of. Good sir, you have done wonders with your words.

“That’s weird, your neurotransmitters tell me you’re highly aroused.”

Ahaha, yeah, definitely, how weird.

Oh that’s such an unbelievably hot concept! Does the government know how many body hoppers are active at all times? Or is it just one person who’s causing all the chaos?

Oh my god it turned out awesome! Thanks so much for taking the request!

With Esther at his side, Jasper drew his claymore and held it ready. Sweat beaded on his forehead, the chilly dungeon air making it feel colder as he kicked open the door with the missing torches. Esther tossed her torch inside, its light cutting through the darkness. A cluttered desk sat against the far wall, separated from a dusty bed by a bookshelf. Jasper stepped in, his eyes darting around for traps or monsters, while Esther gravitated toward the books. He headed for the desk, where an open notebook with unfinished text lay atop scattered scratch paper. To its left were several ragged leather-bound books, their pages riddled with tiny holes. A bag of colorful gems sat quietly in the corner.

The room was quiet, so much so his breathing was the loudest sound around.

“Those look like slime cores,” Esther said from behind him.

Jasper let out a squeal, startled by her sudden presence.

Esther giggled, clearly pleased with herself. “Oh my, Jasper, I didn’t expect you to have such a cute scream.”

“Shut up…” Jasper muttered, his cheeks burning as he let out a frustrated sigh that echoed in the room.

“Hehehe… I’m just kidding.” Esther patted his head. “Anyways, I’m guessing this room belonged to an alchemist. There’s a ton of rare tomes and scriptures here. They’re in some language I don’t know, but the etchings look share equations and symbols with modern alchemistry.”

Alchemists were a rare breed, an ascended class only achievable by mastering magic. Jasper had never met one—most adventurers focused on combat, so mages usually aimed to become archmages instead.

“You sure about that?” Jasper asked, straightening the loose papers and trying to read them, though the foreign script was gibberish to him.

“This notebook’s got drawings of alchemist experiments,” Esther said. “I can’t even wrap my head around a quarter of it. Hard to imagine a regular person knowing all this, but Oman might be able to shed some light.”

Oman was their mage, he doesn’t talk much, but he does solid work.

Jasper reevaluated the room, grabbing anything not nailed down—papers, books, the bag of gems—and stuffing them into his adventurer’s sack. If Esther was right, this stuff was worth a fortune. Even without an alchemist’s skills, the knowledge could be broken down for regular mages to use.

Once they’d cleared the room of valuables, they stepped back into the hallway. The misty, wine-colored brick corridor felt the same, but it wasn’t as nerve-wracking as before.

“I wonder what kind of person lived in this dungeon,” Esther said as they started walking again.

“We’ll probably learn more if we check the journal later,” Jasper replied. “But for now, I just wanna get outta here fast.” Even if he felt more at ease, lingering wasn’t smart. They still didn’t know if they were safe.

When Jasper opened his eyes, the sight of trees against an orange sunset sky let him release the breath he’d been holding.

“FUCK YEAH, WE MADE IT OUT ALIVE!”

Shit, he’d almost forgotten—Esther was still out cold, slumped against him like a mannequin. Jasper eased down, laying her across his legs. He dug into his adventurer’s sack, pulled out a red vial, and popped the cork with his thumb. Carefully, he poured it over her body. A faint crimson glow shimmered briefly, then faded. Nothing.

That glow should’ve meant she was healed. Jasper checked the spots where her sacred attire was torn, but the cuts and bruises he’d seen earlier were gone.

So why wasn’t she waking up?

Had she taken a hit to the head? That would explain why a low-grade potion didn’t work. Jasper didn’t have any high-grade ones—couldn’t afford them before—but with the gold now, he could. He hoisted Esther onto his back and started running.

Turns out, sprinting back to camp takes forever with someone on your back. Why couldn’t the adventurer’s sack hold people? Esther was unconscious, so she was basically an inanimate object, right? Whatever. They made it. Jasper unzipped Esther’s tent, revealing a neat stack of religious texts by her sleeping bag. A small statue of Althea sat beside an ivory candle, and a bag with white fabric peeking out lay nearby. Thank Althea she had spare clothes.

Gods, after splitting the gold, they could finally ditch camping in the wild.

Jasper gently lowered Esther onto her sleeping bag. She looked peaceful, her delicate features calm, like she was just napping. He stepped out, zipping the tent closed, and headed back toward town.