Jinko Shorts, Count: 7

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[Wife]
[Babysitter]
[Adventurer]
[Napper] or [Babysitter 2]
[Tracker]
[Snowman] or [Babysitter 3]
[Not so Jingle Bell Rock]

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[Wife]

> Be married to jinko wife
> Be captured and held down during her last night of mating season and watch her succumb to multiple rapists
> Both of you are in shock and awake the whole night
> She is deeply ashamed the morning after by both her physical and mental weaknesses, begging your forgiveness
> You give it
> Become increasingly cold and distant, accepting that what happened happened and did not reflect her heart but still disturbed
> See her struggle to regain your affection, both aggressively and passively, but never with sex
> Realize one day what you need to do
> Be tricky, make her chase you into the temple you two were wed in where a solemn looking succubus priestess awaits
> You propose divorce to your wife on the spot
> She is silent as the succubus hands both of you the needed documents to sign
> Both of you sign, the papers stained by your ex-wife's tears
> You remove the bracer you proposed to her with, steel with gold inlays and a single small diamond in the center
> She accepts all this, looking more frail than that night, as if expecting all of this

> Get down on one knee, offering the bracer, looking her straight in the reddened eyes in her head hung low and ask, “Will you marry me and become mine all over again?”
> She stops sobbing and mauls you on the spot for playing such a dirty trick which quickly turns into kissing and cries of “YES!”
> You don't make love that night, what with being hospitalized
> Your jinko wife spends the night in your room hugging you as tightly as she can with one furry arm and the other with the bracer between the both of you
> When you two finally make love days later, you both come to know that love makes the act sweeter than anything and that you two are together forever more

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[Babysitter]

> Be mighty jinko warrior, trained hundreds of pupils, monster and human alike, in unarmed combat and tactics
> Also be out of a job due to cutbacks in peacetime
> Now babysitting a five year old human girl every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday
> It's Halloween now, and you show up to take her trick or treating since her parents are working
> She's already in costume when you arrive
> Wearing a green sweater, brown shorts with fuzzy cuffs, a hairband with two tiger-like ears made of brown and black pipecleaners, and a belt buckled behind her waist for a 'tail' to hang out, haphazardly covered in glue and pipecleaners
> She made it herself and she says she's dressed as YOU when you ask
> Rocking back and forth on her heels, she goes on cheerfully saying that you must be so strong because you're so furry, referencing the time you glared down a variety pack of lizard species bullies for her, and that she wants to be strong too
> You almost laugh at this childish equation and solution, but restrain yourself with the thought that you might be able to teach at least one more pupil
> You kneel and look her in the eye as you offer bravery lessons to her, how not to be afraid and defend yourself
> She hugs your leg for that
> It's hard to get her to stop nuzzling you out of gratitude or just because you're soft, you're not sure
> Then you two go out, receive a ton of loot, and get a head start on the bravery lessons afterwards; the little one shouting into the air and tackling your legs until two hours past her bedtime after you let her eat a wee bit too much candy

---

[Adventurer]

> Be jinko adventurer on your last excursion
> Have had your fill of one-night stands, explosive getaways, trapped hallways, and collecting more loot than you know what to do with
> This expedition is to find a mate
> You're following a tale you've heard hundreds of times before from other monster girl adventurers, the one about a prince or count or something fancy like that being stuck at the top of a tall white marble tower and offering his hand in marriage to the one who can reach him
> There are some claims that the man is merely a ghost that disappears upon being embraced
> Whatever, gotta see for yourself
> You arrive at the tower at night and make camp, readying yourself and whatever tools your gigantic paws allow you to hold
> At dawn you wake and, per that harpy rogue's instructions, trail a piece of chalk all the way around the tower, causing a section of marble to sink into the ground and reveal the entrance
> Within are the greatest (and not so great) physical tests and most devious (plus some uncreative) traps you've ever encountered
> 1st floor – pressure plates trigger darts to launch from every wall
> 2nd floor – foul gas slowly fills the room from the ground up until the sliding puzzle is solved
> 10th floor – the slightest sound will be amplified a hundred fold in a floor filled with dry leaves
> 22nd floor – the ceiling descends but can be slowed, it stops after two minutes
> 37th floor – get through ten stone walls, each thicker than the last as a spiked pillar rolls behind you and threatens to crush
> 38th floor – Rubik's Cube
> All too often you find the skeletal remains of other adventurers littering the floors as well
> But your discipline, experience, and strength see you through forty floors of madness and mayhem
> At the top of the stairs from the fortieth floor (twenty ropes, only one is sturdy enough to swing across the floor-spanning acid pit), the entrance to the forty-first floor, the very top, is a rickety wooden door
> You can see ominous red light bleeding through the cracks and you pause to collect your tired, cut up self
> You hope that you do not disappoint the man behind the door in your messy state, but also wonder if the physical and mental effort you just exerted is really worth it
> Nonetheless, you enter
> Behind the door is a chamber softly lit by the magical red glow of dozens of red globes hovering around the ceiling, the floor is soft red velvet, a treat for your paws, and lying on the heart-shaped bed, sleeping peacefully, is a young man dressed in fine clothing and wearing some sort of crown
> In your exhausted state, after all this, all you want is to lie down on the bed and embrace your new love, perhaps waking him and telling him of your trials
> You almost do it, but you're still wary of traps, even in this last room
> You carefully approach his side, eyes primarily on his angelic form, but also on as much of the room as you can see
> This is the last room, why is there only a bed? How does he eat, drink, survive? Where did he get clean clothes? And why is it that there is no scent on him?
> That last point triggers warning bells in your head and you back away slowly from the sleeper-who-might-be-a-ghost
> You wonder if there is more to this room then meets the eye and begin searching and feeling everything but the bed
> As you feel the perimeter of the room, your arm suddenly shoots forward into the white stone, making you stumble
> An illusion!
> You pass through the false wall without a second thought towards the young man, trying to steel yourself for more traps
> Your eyes bug out at the sight before you for two reasons
> One: there are stairs leading downwards in a circle, a tight passageway that must have been built as the second layer to the tower
> Two: the stairs are entirely made of mithril and the walls are absolutely ENCRUSTED with gems sharpened to a lethal point, forming no way to touch them without making a bloody waffle of one's flesh
> You descend very carefully, glad to see that several of the red orbs from the forty-first floor had followed you for some reason, lighting the way
> Down, down, down you go, encountering only the occasional trap of one of the gems suddenly shooting out from the wall, shafts of emerald, ruby, or otherwise force you to twist or even fall flat on your butt to avoid, each time makes you curse your large body and this challenge
> Down, down, down forty-one floors you go and then one more, to another rickety wooden door which you push open cautiously
> “Ah... Finally...” A wizened old voice calls out from behind
> Passing through the almost too small doorframe, you are confronted with an old man, hunched over, wearing a pointed hat, and dressed in gray and fraying robes
> “Finally I meet a monster who values material wealth over emotional!” His voice rises, loud and strong
> ... What.
> “You saw all the gems didn't you? And the mithril? And the marble of the tower? Of course you did; probably came here for the prince, but there is none; only valuable material things!” He's joyfully ranting now
> “All my life, I only ever saw monsters look for love, compassion, someone to come home to; what about money? What about material greed?” Happy and maniacal eyes accompanied by a toothless wide smile stare at you, making you very, very uncomfortable
> “I built this tower to test monsters, to test if they valued money more than love! They all failed, all of them! The ones who made it to the top were overcome with love and tried to sleep with the illusion I made! But you!” He thrusts a wrinkled finger at you
> “You are the only one who rejected love! Who rejected what all monsters crave! You are whom I've been searching for!” Please no, please no hooking up with a crazy old man
> “I will transfer EVERYTHING valuable in this tower to YOU! No need to thank me, you've made an old man happy; I know where the jinkos all live, only one place you could have come from, I'll teleport it all there in convenient forms; marble blocks, sacks for gems,” you're just sitting on the floor now, overwhelmed
> And as he keeps going on and on about how greed is good, you can only think of two words to describe your disappointment:
> Fucking wizards.

---

[Napper] or [Babysitter 2]

> Be mighty jinko warrior, trained hundreds of adult pupils, monster and human alike, in unarmed combat and tactics
> Also formerly be out of a job due to cutbacks in peacetime
> Still babysitting and teaching bravery (self-confidence and self-defence) to a five year old human girl every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday
> But now also working as a playground supervisor at her elementary school Monday to Wednesday thanks to a recommendation from her parents
> Your littlest student was, of course, delighted to see you more often, though you had to often promise to make up for your inability to play with her while on the job
> Turns out you're good with kids, managing them not unlike rookie soldiers with a firm hand and fair words
> Also by being flat-out scary
> You were also wrangled by the preschool and kindergarten teacher, a hyperactive wurm known as 'Ms. Train Ride' for letting the kids ride her tail, into assisting with nap time
> As in you're the centrepiece
> Twice every day for thirty minutes each, you lie down on a jumbo soft blanket and have children between two to five years old on top or around you
> Some days you've got a drooling apophis coiled around your left arm and a harpy perched on your right, others a dullahan hugging her head curled up on your stomach and your five-year old charge with a hand lightly clutching your right ear, and always many many others in your general proximity
> Like Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man with you as the man, 'Ms. Train Ride' as the circle, and the kids filling all the empty space
> Your fur, particularly your tail, is considered prime real estate for nap time
> The kids seemed to have developed an unspoken schedule of sorts concerning who goes where and when, perhaps because of the first time they pulled your tail... There were consequences.
> Only one child in the preschool group stays away from you, the emerald dragon of a pack of bullies you once glared at to stop them from harassing your littlest student
> She's a year younger than your charge, who knew
> Her cronies used to stay away from you too, but now respect your strength on the playground and are infatuated with your fur the same as every other child
> The emerald-scaled dragon often doesn't sleep, and every waking moment is spent glaring jealously at the other kids and fearfully at you from under her blanket
> You never sleep during nap time and when you even glance in her direction, she usually tries and fails to not hide her face out of fear with her blanket, claws and tail still peeking out the back and the whole four-year old bundle of scales shaking
> With her pride still wounded, she makes every effort to try and beat you somehow
> Kicks in the shin you feel a mere pinprick from, throwing rocks you catch easily even when not looking, hovering around your head trying to prevent you from seeing the playground's layout that you've already memorized
> It's not overly distracting, but still, you've got better things to do than dodge her all day
> You give the matter some thought and come up with an idea that seems far too simple, but worth a shot
> The minutes before the next nap time has you loudly announcing that you hit your right leg pretty hard the other day, so no one can touch or hug it for now
> Its loss as a nap spot sparks a small riot around you, but is resolved quickly with the promise of you staying around for one class in the future to play with them instead of just nap time
> The shines in their eyes as they all (including the teacher) look up at you in excitement and awe make you wonder and be afraid of just how popular you'll be
> As you try to calm the children and their teacher, you notice on the edge of your vision the dragon paying very close attention to your right leg
> Nap time.
> You pretend to sleep, shutting your eyes and trying to focus on every noise other than the light breathing of all the children and their teacher around you
> Ten minutes pass and you start to wonder if your plan is a failure when the sound of claws clicking on tile at a slow pace reaches your ears
> It quickly gives way to even slower tiptoeing you think, judging from the very soft folding sounds of the blanket you're lying down on. She must be making her way around the other children
> The noise suddenly stops right around where your right leg is
> Will she take the chance?
> You don't dare even peek at her, you'll know if the plan's working or not
> A minute passes in silence
> Suddenly you feel a claw jabbing your right shin
> You make a 'pained mumble' in your 'sleep'
> Another minute passes before another sensation crosses your leg
> There's skin and scales, both must be going back and forth across your fur without leaving the area
> There's a little giggle that gets cut short, probably out of nervousness. She's definitely nuzzling your leg fur
> Following that, there's a lot of movement around it; feelings vary from what you can only guess are probably her trying to use your leg as a pillow, her feet pressed against the bottom of your shin and her tail swiping back and forth across the top, her whole length stretching across with her belly at your knee, among others
> You make sure to make the appropriate mutterings and other nonsensical sleep noises to accompany her activities
> The feeling of scales and skin suddenly disappears for a moment before a tiny dragon's full weight suddenly crashes on top of your leg, making you give out a very real grunt of surprise, but you refuse to look just yet
> A few minutes pass until you can count one more child's steady breath among the others
> You crack open your right eye to see the little dragon slumped over your shin in a deep sleep, looking very uncomfortable what with the slight curve or hump shape she was sleeping in, with a blanket thrown over her back and horns
> But you get the feeling that she's satisfied somehow
> After that, she didn't bother you as much, your unwanted and still frightening attention only given to her when she was stirring up trouble with her lackies
> Nap time culture infects her just like everyone else though and she falls in line with the unspoken schedule after some scuffles
> The only place she'll sleep though is over the leg she 'conquered' however, with as much fur as she can curl around, claws, tails, and all

---

[Tracker]
> Be jinko social worker
> Or is that bounty hunter?
> Probably both
> In any case, you work for the international initiative that some idiot first named R.A.P.E. (Reunion of All Peoples Effectively) then changed it to F.F.U.C. (Family & Friends Unity Corps), and then he finally got fired and was replaced by someone with a better head for acronyms.
> The S.N.C. (Searchers & Negotiators for Coexistence) tracks down monsters and humans that freaked out and went into hiding after the two were brought together to integrate and coexist
> Members would try to find and convince the cowards that not every day is orgy day or that walking into a city would get them killed under a flurry of pitchforks and torches, among other reasons
> But you're seriously considering at least maiming your latest assignment after being unable to catch him for over a week
> The Canadian boreal forests of the north aren't terribly harsh, but its cold dammit. And you hate the cold even if you don't show it
> First time you saw him, he had a tidy camp next to a river with all the furnishings; lean-to shelter, fire pit, bucket of hallowed wood, a smooth stump table, plus a freaking trap hole leading into an honest-to-chief-god tunnel network
> Jumped right into it as soon as you said a word, never even looked back or hesitated when you started talking about the S.N.C.
> Lost the slippery bastard then and there, not for lack of trying to pursue, you just couldn't fit your fat and fit ass through the tunnel he dug
> Not the last time you lose him that way, he's not as fast as you but he's somehow always next to a hole and it feels like there's more of those dug than the number of fur hairs on your body
> Your aggravation grew every time you could only fit your arm through a narrow passage, every time you lunged to grab and swiped nothing but air, and every time you stared at the newest scrap of clothing off his collar on your claw from yet another near catch
> Organization coulda sent Missy, she can teleport and go invisible, but noooooo, she's due to use her vacation time! And she didn't even want to! Bah.
> Bastard isn't even listening to you talk about the S.N.C., or maybe he is and chooses to ignore you in favour of running in terror. Points for never screaming or wetting himself though.
> Finally, one day a stroke of luck. He dives into a hole like usual and you're about to finally let loose all your frustrations in a single roar that would make every beast within five miles shit themselves
> Just before you can make all the Canadian wildlife cower, the sudden sound of crumbling rock and dirt causes a catch in your throat and you choke on your stifled roar
> After wheezing and cursing, you stare at the new ditch just ahead of you for only a second before thinking, oh crap. Cave-in. He's underground.
> Digging frantically, you quickly find a hand groping for escape, this assignment is almost over!
> More digging brings about his face, desperately sucking in air and eyes sealed tightly trying to prevent dirt from entering. Or maybe he doesn't want to look at you. Maybe both. Eh.
> You extract him easily enough, the dirt is actually very loose and once you get both arms free, you yank him right outta the earth
> He screams as you do, suddenly pleading with you not to eat him, use his bones to build a shrine, and summon Satan to the material plane
> What the hell has this idiot been reading before the merger announcement?
> With a frustrated yell of “OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES ALREADY!” You backhand him across the face as 'gently' as you can
> He does so, calming down a bit from the shock and turns to look you in the eye
> ... ... And then your breasts.
> So on the trek to the nearest airfield and your extraction, he explains (while ogling) that he lived as a hermit even before the merger and only had a lot of religious dogma and fantasy books for company, going to a faraway town for supplies once a month
> He got the news from overhearing a couple of guys talking, heard the words 'living with monsters,' then went, 'Aaahh!!! Real Monsters!' And hauled ass to his emergency tunnel network in the boreal forests to spend the rest of his life cowering in fear of non-existent beast-men
> And since he lived in the wilderness, he received no other news, like the articles about all those newfound single women just waiting for him back in the cities and soon enough everywhere else
> So the path to his freedom from isolation (and your paycheck) was the sight of boobs. Boobs and the promise of a grand private tour of a major metropolis and dinner
> Pfff, yeah right, you'll have him fill out the necessary papers at the office before calling a taxi to throw him at the red eye district (oh, not the red LIGHT district where all the tame prostitutes are, red EYE, as in SUCCUBUS RED) alone
> “Welcome to the new world! Hope your pelvis is sturdy!”

---

[Snowman] or [Babysitter 3]
> Be mighty jinko warrior, trained hundreds of adult pupils (plus one child), monster and human alike in unarmed combat and tactics
> Also formerly be out of a job due to cutbacks in peacetime
> Still babysitting a five year old human girl every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday
> Still working as a playground supervisor at her elementary school Monday to Wednesday
> Be out in the snow concluding the second half of your promised play day with the preschool group
> The first half consisted of the kids (and 'Miss Train Ride' [aka Joyce]) trying to pull or drag you to one corner of the room or another, demanding fairy tales to be read, pillow 'nests' to be built, to hold still while little dragon Emilia built a block 'hoarding cave' around your right leg, and to hang off the 'Supervisor Arm Gondola' before being dropped off onto the 'Teacher Tail Train.'
> It was tiring enough to make you wonder how the hyperactive and almost childish wurm disciplines them
> Then you saw her zoom towards two children threatening to rip a plush yeti between them and scooping them up into her arms to scold them without slowing down her mall train pace
> The sight was very reassuring
> Following nap time, it was snow time
> Which quickly turned into utter chaos despite your best efforts
> You probably shouldn't have tried to organize a snowball fight
> You probably shouldn't have told Joyce's team that they wouldn't be harmed by whatever crazy military training they think you have by vowing not to throw a single snowball
> The wurm pumping her arms up and down chanting, “Easy win! Easy win!” should probably have made you more cautious
> Your team all looked up at you either ready to cry or throw a tantrum
> They followed your plan rather reluctantly, not believing that someone can fight without fighting
> Half the team dug a looping tunnel that went behind Joyce's team entirely, entrances hidden behind your own snow forts and the tunnel itself beneath a thin layer of snow
> When the fight started proper, as snowballs fall like hail on both sides, you were a moving wall, surprising everyone with your willingness to be hit and protect your team
> Your hidden strike force crawled down the tunnels and suddenly popped up behind Joyce's team, causing startled cries to be caught between shouts of glee, snowballs thrown by the latter smacking the former from front and back
> You felt glad to see your strategy work, you felt glad at seeing the children enjoy themselves so
> And then the kindergarten group showed up
> You saw your five-year old human charge, Beth, pout and jump once in frustration with her arms flopping at her sides
> You remember thinking, yeah, that's her jealous face. Yeah, that's a snowball she's picking up.... yeah, she's charging you now
> And then the other kindergarteners wanted in
> And then the enemy team took advantage of that to target you exclusively
> And then your team turned on you too upon seeing the advancing kindergarten group
> Kids.
> The parents that came to pick up or drop off their kids watch you demonstrate the patience of a saint, being pelted and buried up to your neck in snow in silence, coming to the conclusion that you're very good with children
> All that's left is your head and your tail when the children are done, then they all charge off to play in the snow with each other
> The parents don't mind much
> So now you twitch and swing your tail to the amusement of the children, making a game out of them trying to catch it
> Your head swivels back and forth, a jinko sentinel atop a tower of snow
> And just as quickly as you lost authority over the children, you regain it; a pair of caramel-yellow eyes glaring at them with a flat expression keeps them from playing too rough
> And after all the incidents including Briana hiding her head in the snow and gnashing little plastic vampire teeth from Halloween at any passerby, the preschoolers leave and the kindergarteners head inside with 'Miss Train Ride' after a big group thank you
> The next time you babysit Beth, she demands an apology from you for playing so hard with the preschoolers, which you give, and a nap together
> Kids.

---

[Not so Jingle Bell Rock]

Jinko will, jinko will, jinko will stalk
Jinko paws swing and jinko smiling
Catching and dragging up hours of fun
Now the jinko's night has begun

Jinko did, jinko did, jinko did stalk
Jinko paws slide down jinko's flesh ride
Huffing and chuffing in jinko's bed there
In the warming air.

What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away

Jinko bed time is a swell time
To be riding up and down a one-eyed snake
Get on up jinko's prey, that was round one
Jinko around the cock

Huff and a-chuffing with nowhere to run
So the jinko did,
So the jinko did,
So the jinko did stalk