50 Prompts : District 9 / Wikus

Author's Note: Haven't written anything remotely fanfic like in years. Also English isn't my primary language and I don't have a beta Reader so my apologies for any typos or odd grammar.
Disclaimer: don't own anything District 9 except for my OC Goliath. I don't make money with this either.
Summary: the first 25 of 50 prompt's which focus on mostly on Wikus with some appearances of Christopher,Oliver and my OC Goliath.

EDIT: Seems something whent wrong with formatting when I uploaded this. I keep finding little mistakes. Rawr! _

Threat.
"Back off" A deep grumble followed by fearful chirps and warbles, a large clawed hand on his changing shoulder, and Wikus trembles at the touch, he peers at his rescuer (or new tormentor, he isn't sure) and sees the largest prawn he ever saw.

Dark grey with streaks of bronze and orange on his arms, legs and chest, the prawn eyes him with bright orange eyes.

"Relax, little halfling. I have no intention to harm you" The giant purrs as he crouches down to Wikus's level as much as his size lets him, his eyes gentle. "No one will threaten you while I stand guard." Wikus surprises himself when he believes the large prawn's words and settles in his dirty blankets, and for the first time in days he relaxes and sleeps.

Empire.
Behind his shack, he has a small garden filled with things he build. Wikus eyes the projects with a calm pride and for a moment he feels like a emperor watching over his lands.

Falter.
"He's not coming, is he?" Dual coloured eyes, one amber, the other pale blue look at his companion. The large gray prawn sighs as he places his three fingered hand on top of the smaller prawns head. "You must not falter in your hope Wikus. He will come."

Compliment.
"Your eyes look funny, but in a nice way" Wikus blinks his mismatched eyes at the young prawn, who upon seeing his large grey friend come near quickly runs to his home.

"…Do my eyes really look funny, Goliath?" Wikus asks his friend when the taller of the two stand next to him. Goliath, who's name fits him perfectly with his large frame, warbles in amusement when Wikus explains the reason behind his question.

"I think you got a compliment."

Glass.
Wikus realised the extend of his transformation when one day he stepped on a glass bottle and doesn't feel a thing through his tough carapace.

Honour.
Three years and a couple days was all it took for Wikus to understand that humans in all their arrogance had less honour then the aliens they treated like dirt. After all he never knew any human that would return after such a long time to keep a promise made to a indecisive and neurotic asshole as he had been back then.

Work.
"This…you made this?" Wikus let out a nervous chirp in acknowledgement, his blue and yellow eyes darting between his friend and his 'garden' of twisted metal shapes that glinted under the hot sun.

Jealous.
He couldn't for the love of God understand why Christopher is never pleased with him when he mentioned he was meeting up with Goliath.

Strings.
"What the fook? How'd ya get tied up in a ball of yarn for fook's sake!"

Semantics.
"Fook is Fook! I don't care how those bloody American's pronounce it. It's the same fooking word!"

Innocence.
It's mating season and Wikus is a nervous wreck with the (unwanted) attention he's suddenly getting. Goliath realises that his friend is innocent in the ways of his own species and that Wikus despite his size , is concidered attractive, espcially since his one eye is a blue that is never seen amongst their kind.

Dispose. (prequel to Threat)
They had been watching the human for a while. His human yet prawn scent threw them off and irritated them. As they crept upon the shivering mass of blankets and newspaper they clicked their mandibles in exciment at the change of not only disposing a human but also the meal they could make of, or that was the idea untill a large shadow fell over them.

Blaze. (sequeal to Jealousy)
Christopher flattened himself against the wall of his nesting chamber as he looked up in to fiery orange eyes, that almost blazed like fire in the dimlight of the room. He flinched as a large claw slammed in to wall next to his head."We need to talk" Goliath growls out , looking down at him.

Neglect.
Wikus didn't care anymore which showed in the way his armor was dull with dust and grime, and his wounds oozed with puss.

Quake.
The arrival of the Poleepkwa mothership caused the earth to shake , and such it caused Wikus to be woken up unpleasantly as one of his self made doo-hickey's fell off the ceiling and on his head.

Guess.
Christopher eyes the green prawns that where separated from the crowd in to their current room, as they entered the Mothership. One of them had to be Wikus,right?.

Quarrel.
Oliver tilted his head as he looked back and forth between his parent and Wikus. They weren't talking instead looks were exchanged before Wikus sighed and turned away. The young prawn chirped in confusion. What just happened?

Brood.
Wikus glowered at the prawns that were chuckling at him from a distance, the sprawnlings at his feet ignorant of the image they present with Wikus to the childless prawns that are passing by.

Effort.
The flower was oddly delicate in appearance despite the red Coca-Cola can petals with sharp edges. Tania ,lost and lonely could see the effort in it's creation and wept as she placed it on her night stand.

Now.
He didn't think about what would happen in three years. He couldn't think at all as he dodged another MNU patrol helicopter. He had focus on the now and not the when.

Solve.
"We can finally cure you, Wikus!"
"That won't fix anything, Christopher. There's nothing to return to now"

Rest.
He has not appreciated sleep until he's hunted and haunted day and night . He fears he'll never sleep again.

Soon.
He watches the blue and green planet grow in size as they approach Earth again after three years. His son chirps in anticipation of seeing the human they left behind.
"Do you think Sweetie-man is still waiting for us?" Christopher doesn't answer, but he hopes to find the answer to the question as fast as he can.

Listen.
For a long time he avoided the campfires the prawns build in the evenings. He couldn't look at crackling flames, the very sound of it reminds him of all those eggs he burned, and in the crackle of burning wood he hears the sound of eggs breaking like the sound of popcorn popping in a bag in the microwave.

Haze.
He isn't sure who he is for a long time after his shift from man to prawn. The memories of the first days are only made up of blurred colours and sounds before the world cleared and he recalled who and what he was.