Writing Prompt: "this isn't what it looks like!"

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Minibit, May 4, 2016.

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  1. "This isn't what it looks like!"

    There's your prompt!

    Write a scene, short story, or post inspired by this classic line. Don't feel pressured to write in a specific style or format, or even to include the line, it can be anything you want! However if your result is nsfw, please put it in a spoiler
  2. NSFW (open)
    He stutters and stumbles some gurgling sounds from his trembling jaw. The blood flowing from his leg is beginning to make him delirious, but he knows he's on the wrong end of the CZ-75. His eyes tell me as much as he desperately tries to form words to plead for his life. Too bad he'll never get the chance.

    Flash. Bang. Thump. And it's all over. His inner thoughts now decorate the warehouse walls.

    Should have thought about that before he got into the business of human trafficking. But, he's just small fry. The computer he has will provide me what I need to find the next link up the chain. After procuring it, I proceed to police up the scene. I stab my slaver friend with a ceremonial dagger commonly used by one of the Triad gangs in the local are. Gang hits are a dime a dozen around here. One last thing before I go. The unlaundered money sitting on the table is stuffed inside my pack. Will prove useful later.

    Thing about the Old Wharf is no one thinks much about loud noises. It'll be a few days before the bodies are discovered. Police will follow the trail I gave them, and I'll continue my tumble down the rabbit hole unhindered.
    That is, until I turn around to see a woman standing there with a badge in her left and a Glock 17c in her right with the business end aimed in my direction. "POLICE! HANDS UP!"

    'This isn't what is looks like!' typically is the classic line said at this moment, but all I can think is: 'It's exactly what it looks like. I killed these men.'

    I comply with the officer. Placing my hands in the air and then on my head as I proceed to a kneeling position. She approaches, Glock still trained on my brainpan.

    Now, I know what you're thinking, but I can assure you that I'm not crazy. I didn't have some psychotic break from a past trauma. I didn't have mother or father killed like some comic book character. Didn't even have parents. I don't see myself as some sort of paragon. No. I'm just a man who sees the world for the sick joke it is. The clean surface stained brown and red just underneath. I am simply a man with the skills, temperament and drive necessary to take action against the shit that breeds underneath the surface, below the gutters scabbed over by blood and corruption.

    Fiat justitia ruat caelum.

    "What was that?" She asks, ever so slighting lowering her guard, giving me all the opportunity I need. I explode with force, jumping to my feet and slam into the officer with full force. She's sent hard into a supine position on the concrete floor, gasping for air. I kick away the Glock to prolong any ideas of retaliation. Time to go.
    #2 Project-2501, May 5, 2016
    Last edited: May 5, 2016
  3. "I thought you were on a diet!" Emily froze as her husband exclaimed those words, the ice cream tub she held and the spoon in her other hand frozen in place.

    "...Th-This isn't what it looks like!" she exclaimed, immediately putting the lid back on the tub and placing the spoon in the kitchen sink. She could feel herself burning as Daniel smirked.

    "Uh huh, sure it is," he drawled, crossing his arms triumphantly at having caught his wife cheating. Not the relationship kind, mind you, but her breaking her diet kind.

    "I-I I swear I only took one bite!"

    "Suuure you did!"

    "Daniel!" He began to laugh heartily and it wasn't long before the contagious laughter got to her too. "I really am terrible at keeping up with things, aren't I?" she said, grinning sheepishly as he came over to hug her.

    "It's okay, hun, everyone makes mistakes. And honestly, you're not fat," he said.

    "Yes I am."

    "No you're not."

    "I am!"

    "You're not. I can prove it too, watch!" She squealed as he suddenly lifted her up off the ground.

    "Daniel!" she laughed as she was set back down.

    "Em, see? I can lift you up just fine, which means you're not as heavy as you think." Well he got her there.

    "True, pfft. Still, I wish I could stick to one thing and not back out of it," she sighed.

    "You will, don't worry." Pause. "Just no more dieting, okay? You're perfect the way you are." The two hugged each other contently, Emily and Daniel smiling all the while.
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  4. Speculations spread over the fields like manure, as gossip about the Roman armies flew among the field workers. Wynn couldn't blame them for worrying, since the Romans were destroying lives everywhere they went. Thinking about the atrocities their armies commited made him swing the scythe harder. Why did men think that they were better, stronger, more blessed- if they could just take more of what other men had? Why could they not focus on what they already had, and build something great from that? He knew they were capable of it. Were they just too lazy?
    A shout from the edge of the hay field pulled him from his thoughts, making him look up. His muscular arms stopped moving, and he raised one to wipe the sweat and damp brown hair away from his eyes. Taller than most of the men in the village, Wynn could see over the remaining hay to where Eilonwy was waving to signal that dinner was ready. Against the backlighting of a brilliant sunset, it was difficult to distinguish her from the hillside. Only her lovely, pale face stood out. Many of the men waved back, and one greying old fox standing near Wynn chuckled.
    "Gowan wi' ye, man. 'S no good te keep yer woman waitin'. Yer dinner'll get cold if ye dawdle 'ere wi' the rest of us ol' goats." Wynn laughed at the man, knowing exactly what the pervert thought would be 'getting cold'. He shook his head, before taking off the piece of cloth that had kept it from being baked in the summer sun. His cheeks were slightly pink from being outside all day. Yes, it was definitely sunburn, not embarrassment.
    "Na, she keeps it good and warm fer me, no fear." He handed off the scythe to one of the other men, before finishing collecting the last of the hay he had cut. He lifted the bundle easily on his strong shoulders, and carried it back to the barn. Once he'd finished with his tasks for the day and began the walk back to Eilonwy's cottage, Wynn sighed. Eilonwy had gone back ahead, to make sure his meal was prepared before he returned home. Haying was hard work, but keeping up appearances as a good neighbor and husband were equally taxing.

    "Darlin' I'm home. Did ye eat, my pretty?" Calling out just before he opened the door to the rough stone cottage, Wynn smiled as he entered the cozy home. The inner walls were whitewashed, the limestone caulk keeping the weather out and the warmth of the hearth inside. The view provided by the fire warmed him more than the sun. Eilonwy, her lovely body clothed only in the white linen shift he'd gifted her when they met and her long fall of dark hair spilling over her shoulders. Her smile was still shy, but this was hardly the first time they had performed this act.
    Wynn closed the door behind him, and pulled off the damp homespun tunic he wore. Eilonwy's dark eyes were drawn to his sculpted body, making him smirk slightly. It didn't matter how many times she saw, her lust was still strong and sweet. It was one of the reasons he loved her so. Although she was hardly inexperienced, Wynn did not have to work overly hard to make her feel the emotions that fueled him.

    "I have, my 'husband'. Please...may I see?" The rush of emotion- mainly lust- made Wynn smile wider. His sharp canines glinted in the flickering light. He had shown Eilonwy his secret once before, and had been amazed by her acceptance. Her kindness, love, and willingness to be with a creature like him- that was what made him stay with her. He nodded, and let his magic disguise fade away.
    The hard-worked village man- taller than most, but still sharing the traits of the men around him- was gone in mere moments. What stood in his place was a creature not of the mortal realm. It was difficult to say what Wynn was, at first glance. It depended on where one was looking, he supposed. Some said he was an angel upon seeing his ivory skin, glittering wings that held every color of the sunset, long pale hair, and kind silver eyes. Others said he was a demon, seeing the small, gleaming black horns and winding, dragon-like tail covered in red and pink scales. The truth was a weird tale, even to him. The over-simplified name for him brought fear and loathing to those who knew about his father's people. As he knew far too well, there was no escaping the fact.
    Wynn was an incubus.
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  5. Not too sure if the content here counts as NSFW, but I went on ahead and marked it as such.

    NSFW (open)

    The winds carried Nikki down from the top of the building and into the alleyway. The white-furred werecat paused for a moment, ears straight up, listening. She'd spent a good three hours into the night combing the city by now, even after the rest of the Vanguard had given up searching. Given the events of that evening, Nikki could somewhat understand why Sasha didn't want to be found. Of course, a nyctokinetic werecat such as Sasha had no real trouble hiding either, given the night-time setting and the dark corners of various places that would conceal a shadow manipulator almost perfectly, and the cat-like Therian was naturally capable of hiding.

    There was a brief period of tension as she listened a bit longer. Soft, quiet sobs met her ears and she dared to tread further into the alley. The sobs grew slightly louder and she realized she'd found someone's hiding spot. Upon closer inspection, she found the black-furred werecat, arms and mouth caked in brown, dried, rusted blood. She had practically curled up into a ball, arms wrapped around her legs, head pressed against her legs. Tears were flowing and her ears were flat against her head. She didn't seem to acknowledge Nikki's presence, so Nikki knelt beside her and place a hand on her shoulder. Sasha was startled from the contact and stared directly at Nikki. She barely seemed to be holding it together, something that surprised Nikki, given her past experiences with Sasha. The same werecat who she'd been training in mastering her Esper powers, the same one she'd kissed before going to sleep at night, the same one she'd taken down an entire interdimensional threat and three Gods with, was sitting here, crying and doing her best to hide from the world. Sasha's eyes briefly met with Nikki's, before she turned away and muttered, "Well, you found me. Now what?"

    "Sasha, whatever that was back there, it doesn't matter. I came looking for you because I was scared." Sasha looked away, ashamed, "Scared of me, and rightly so." Nikki frowned, then spoke, "Not 'of,' I was scared for you. Sasha, I was worried that you were gonna hurt yourself, or others were gonna hurt you." Sasha sniffled, "As if. With how weak I am already, why should it matter? The mugger's a good example of my weakness." Nikki shook her head, "What about that makes you weak? You know as well as I do that that wasn't what it looked like." Sasha shrugged, "What makes you think you're safe around me? Or safe from me? I can't control my violent impulses. I can't control my powers anymore, I can't even control my emotions. Nightwatcher was right when she said I was dangerous and a liability." Nikki gave Sasha a slight glare, "Do you honestly believe what that Nanomorphic hag said? Just because you show your emotions doesn't make you weak. You're not afraid to voice your opinion, you're not afraid of showing your feelings. Just because you cry doesn't make you weak. Those who cry aren't afraid of their emotions, thus why they are the strongest." Sasha turned back to meet Nikki's eyes and sniffed, "I killed that man. All he did was try to rob a person. What he did was criminal, but what I did was unforgivable, dammit! I killed him in cold blood and probably traumatized the victim. The worst part is that it felt right, it felt like I was meant to do that."

    She grabbed Nikki's shoulders and got on her knees, "I'm scared, Nikki! I'm scared of what I'm turning into! I don't want to wake up in the morning and find that I killed you because I couldn't control myself!" Sasha broke down and pressed her head onto Nikki's chest, crying. Nikki carefully wrapped her arms around Sasha and let her cry until she calmed down. It was a few long minutes before she'd finally calmed down somewhat. She was shivering and her breath was shuddery, but Nikki managed to coax Sasha into looking up at her. When she did, Nikki locked lips with her for just a moment, ignoring the metallic taste of blood as much as she could. She released Sasha for a moment and said to her, "Sasha, I forgive you and I still love you. You are a good person inside and any decent person can see that. There is practically nothing you can say or do to make me think otherwise. You can control yourself, don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Nikki stood up, still holding onto Sasha as she got to her feet, "Now, come on. I know a guy who can help us."

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