Title: Flash of Moments5
Title: Flash of Moments5
Author: dreamerchaos
Pairing: Wikus centered. ChristopherxWikus.
Rating: R
Warnings: Language. Slash (and slash hints) between an alien and a human(Or who was human…).
Summary: Little moments in time…like the frozen image in a Polaroid…Before and after District 9.
Author’s Note: These drabbles are not meant to interconnect unless explicitly stated. I’ll place a note where any may connect…
Sorry so short. I'm working on other pieces now.
I. Do Not Bite The Hand That Feeds You
(Author’s Note: My musing on the prawns responding not so favorably to the Nigerians killing and eating other prawns…)
Bodies soak in lakes and rivers of blood. Human weapons lie broken and scattered while prawns skitter and growl throughout the territory, brandishing their own weapons as they hunt down the Nigerians. Too many days and nights losing their kin to the mad obsession of the Nigerian leader has taken its toll on the interstellar refugees.
Obesandjo is sprawled across the dirt floor of his domicile. Wheelchair cast aside, his dead legs lie upon the ground like useless half-deflated sacks of meat.
The prawns’ mandibles click and cackle together, their amusement grind across his ear drums like the boisterous yips of the hyenas. In the weak light of the lanterns, the glowing eyes and wicked curved exoskeletons lend the shadows of curled demons to rise up the walls and paint the metal ceiling of the Nigerian’s metal fortress.
One large orange and black prawn, the leader, momentarily pauses his sharp nips on the dissected black arm; the large creature crouches over the ripped body of Obesandjo’s black witch.
“What’s the matter, Obesandjo?” The prawn growls, strips off another long dangling piece of meat from the limp arm, “You have no trouble eating prawns. Can’t stomach the idea of cannibalizing your own species?” The large prawn grins around the half-gnawed forearm, glistening bone and stiff human fingers cracked open as the prawn suckles down the marrow.
Another prawn keens for the leader’s attention. He stretches upward, rubbing against the larger prawn. The smaller prawn paws at the hunk of meat.
The larger barks a sharp growl, causing the smaller prawn to cringe and fall back. Abashed the smaller prawn begins to slink away, but then the leader’s growl shifts into a purr.
The severed arm still clutched in one hand, the large prawn crawls closer to Obesandjo. He guides the smaller prawn to follow, the smaller gray companion curled against the larger prawn’s chest as they loom above the fallen human.
“I wonder what your insides will look and taste like.” Obesandjo’s curses are intermingled with pathetic whimpering pleas as he is shoved onto his back. The larger prawn guides the smaller prawn’s hands, sliding the curled claws down the sweating, wriggling human’s stomach.
“No, no.” The leader whispers, purring into the smaller prawn’s ear canal, “You must split him open down the middle. But not too deep…mustn’t tear or ruin the sweet organs inside.” The smaller prawn whimpers and arches against the larger, eager prawn, the leader pushing forward, trapping the smaller prawn between him and the whimpering human.
Obesandjo finally screams as talons rake down the small stones of his nipples and hard flat pectorals, splitting open the dark coffee skin. The smaller prawn growls lavishly as pink glistening coils of intestines spill out of Obesandjo’s stomach, the loops falling into his waist.
The larger prawn grins, hands buried inside the warm gush of blood and the throbbing sack of flesh. “The liver and heart are mine.” He snarls, curling his hands around the organs, and he gives a sharp, stabbing jerk when his talons curl around the sweet morsels.
II. Babysitting
(Part of the ‘His Allies’ series)
Wikus doesn’t know when it escalated.
Perhaps after he had been seen ‘babysitting’ the young prawn while their father was away…The image lends ideas to the other fathers in the sector.
All he had done was sit guard while the young father had left to scavenge for food. Wikus seated in front of the other prawn’s shack while the twin offspring chirr and mock fight upon his lap and around his legs.
Wikus bemoaned his fate as one of the young one’s yanked on his antenna, the larger prawn squinting his face in response to the sharp pain.
“Ow….ooow..” Wikus winces as he gently tugs the young clicking prawn off his slightly bent antenna, “L-Leave that alone, you.” The young prawn warbles and clicks within his grip as he holds the wriggling creature away from him.
His twin yowls for attention. When ignored for what he considered too long he curled into a ball in Wikus’ lap like a rollie pollie, sulkily pouting underneath his babysitter’s gaze.
“Now don’t you start...” Wikus warns, pulling both twins into his arms. He prays for patience as the twins begin another mock fight, hissing and curling their tiny claws at their brother.
Nearby another father chortles with laughter while crouched down beside his own youngster, a slim clawed hand gently held within his while his young one pokes and shifts through a nest of dry newspaper.
Wikus dredges up a glare at the chuckling prawn, sullen that his precarious position amongst two small squabbling youngsters garners no sympathy.
The very next day while Wikus takes upon babysitting duty with the twins yet again, the same father from the day before casually deposits his son several feet from Wikus. The new youngster chirrs excitedly before hopping forward to join the twins.
“W-wait a second!” Wikus stumbles to his feet, but is too late. The father already bounds away, taking to the roofs of the shack while he casually leaps from structure to structure.
Wikus mutters under his breath, a glowering crouched guard who hovers over his ‘brood’ while they act out a game of chase around his tall legs. The slightly older young prawn earns irate hisses when he clambers up Wikus’ legs and clings to the larger prawn’s shoulders, legs curled around Wikus’ bicep while snickering proudly from his vantage point while the younger twins shriek and hop around Wikus while their opponent basks from his lofty position.
III. Slight Mishap
(Can be associated with my ‘Leave and Forget’ fic)
“Wikus?” Christopher scales a tall pillar of slate stone, overlooking the thin valley beneath the high ridge. The outskirts of the alien city are pocketed with crevices and slopping hills of rock and pillars of stone. The larger prawn is concerned to have lost the smaller prawn yet again after only an hour he had lost Wikus in the maze of hills several miles from his current vantage point.
He peeked over the rim of the tall pillar when he hears his son peeping for his attention.
Oliver bounces on his feet, the thick red vest thumping against his small chest. “Wikus is stuck and can’t get down!” Oliver kindly relays to his father.
Christopher crawls down the face of the rock pillar, joining his son. “Do you mean he is trapped?”
“No.” Oliver darts a few steps away, urging his father to quickly follow. “He can’t move,” Christopher sighs at the lack of detail that his son is unable to supply him, but he patiently follows his young one’s urging to quicken their pace.
He realizes what Oliver has meant when they find Wikus.
Stuck like a cat up a tree, Wikus scowls from his position up the cliff. “See!” Oliver points dramatically up the wall of the cliff, “I told you he was stuck.” He says proudly.
“I am not!” Wikus snaps while clinging stubbornly to the jutted piece of rock from where he is perched precariously over thirty feet off the ground. Christopher can only wonder what had incited the smaller prawn’s curiosity enough to goad him to scramble up the cliff and the small handholds. He is certain Wikus was less than amused when he found that he could not make his way down the cliff just as easily. “…I just…don’t feel like coming down right now.” The smaller prawn mutters while avoiding a knowing gaze.
“You can make the drop.” Christopher points out gently.
“I’ll break my neck!”
“You will not.” Christopher coaxes, “I will not let you fall and hurt yourself.”
The larger prawn is certain he hears Wikus growl something like ‘Easy for you to say from down there’.
“I can’t!” Wikus insists as he harrowingly leans over the sharp edge of his perch, moaning softly at the sudden drop, “I can’t…I hate heights. So stupid to crawl up here. I just wanted to get up higher and have a better look..”
“Oliver, please stand back.” Christopher asks his son to step away. He curls his claws into the tiny handholds, testing the amount of pressure that he can safely apply, and begins to swiftly scale the cliff.
Wikus sheepishly hides his gaze behind a curled hand as if the dust and grit is bothering his eyes. “Hi.” He is embarrassed by his predicament, but he leans forward and purrs with thanks as Christopher climbs up the wall beside him, nuzzling the smaller fearful prawn.
“I need you to trust me.” Christopher coaxes Wikus forward. The smaller prawn hesitates, keens under his breath in fear and doubt, but at a snail-pace follows Christopher’s guiding hands. Christopher instructs Wikus to curl his arms around the larger prawn’s neck, one arm curled around Wikus’ waist as the smaller prawn slides off the rocky perch.
Wikus swallows a frightened scream as they drop when Christopher suddenly releases his one handhold. The drop is over in a split second but it feels more like minutes.
A jolting tingle shoots up Christopher’s legs when they hit the ground, the larger prawn easily absorbing the brunt of impact. Wikus still hangs on for dear life, nearly choking Christopher with his exuberance.
Oliver stands proud with his fists on his hips, declaring, “I saved you, Wikus! I found father and brought him here!” The small young one huffed, flaring his chest with gusto.
Wikus chuckles into Christopher’s neck, clinging with all four limbs, still too rattled to let his savior go after the sudden drop, “You did good, kid.” Wikus awards the young one while he is comfortable remaining within Christopher’s arms since the larger prawn shows little interest in letting him go either.
Author: dreamerchaos
Pairing: Wikus centered. ChristopherxWikus.
Rating: R
Warnings: Language. Slash (and slash hints) between an alien and a human(Or who was human…).
Summary: Little moments in time…like the frozen image in a Polaroid…Before and after District 9.
Author’s Note: These drabbles are not meant to interconnect unless explicitly stated. I’ll place a note where any may connect…
Sorry so short. I'm working on other pieces now.
I. Do Not Bite The Hand That Feeds You
(Author’s Note: My musing on the prawns responding not so favorably to the Nigerians killing and eating other prawns…)
Bodies soak in lakes and rivers of blood. Human weapons lie broken and scattered while prawns skitter and growl throughout the territory, brandishing their own weapons as they hunt down the Nigerians. Too many days and nights losing their kin to the mad obsession of the Nigerian leader has taken its toll on the interstellar refugees.
Obesandjo is sprawled across the dirt floor of his domicile. Wheelchair cast aside, his dead legs lie upon the ground like useless half-deflated sacks of meat.
The prawns’ mandibles click and cackle together, their amusement grind across his ear drums like the boisterous yips of the hyenas. In the weak light of the lanterns, the glowing eyes and wicked curved exoskeletons lend the shadows of curled demons to rise up the walls and paint the metal ceiling of the Nigerian’s metal fortress.
One large orange and black prawn, the leader, momentarily pauses his sharp nips on the dissected black arm; the large creature crouches over the ripped body of Obesandjo’s black witch.
“What’s the matter, Obesandjo?” The prawn growls, strips off another long dangling piece of meat from the limp arm, “You have no trouble eating prawns. Can’t stomach the idea of cannibalizing your own species?” The large prawn grins around the half-gnawed forearm, glistening bone and stiff human fingers cracked open as the prawn suckles down the marrow.
Another prawn keens for the leader’s attention. He stretches upward, rubbing against the larger prawn. The smaller prawn paws at the hunk of meat.
The larger barks a sharp growl, causing the smaller prawn to cringe and fall back. Abashed the smaller prawn begins to slink away, but then the leader’s growl shifts into a purr.
The severed arm still clutched in one hand, the large prawn crawls closer to Obesandjo. He guides the smaller prawn to follow, the smaller gray companion curled against the larger prawn’s chest as they loom above the fallen human.
“I wonder what your insides will look and taste like.” Obesandjo’s curses are intermingled with pathetic whimpering pleas as he is shoved onto his back. The larger prawn guides the smaller prawn’s hands, sliding the curled claws down the sweating, wriggling human’s stomach.
“No, no.” The leader whispers, purring into the smaller prawn’s ear canal, “You must split him open down the middle. But not too deep…mustn’t tear or ruin the sweet organs inside.” The smaller prawn whimpers and arches against the larger, eager prawn, the leader pushing forward, trapping the smaller prawn between him and the whimpering human.
Obesandjo finally screams as talons rake down the small stones of his nipples and hard flat pectorals, splitting open the dark coffee skin. The smaller prawn growls lavishly as pink glistening coils of intestines spill out of Obesandjo’s stomach, the loops falling into his waist.
The larger prawn grins, hands buried inside the warm gush of blood and the throbbing sack of flesh. “The liver and heart are mine.” He snarls, curling his hands around the organs, and he gives a sharp, stabbing jerk when his talons curl around the sweet morsels.
II. Babysitting
(Part of the ‘His Allies’ series)
Wikus doesn’t know when it escalated.
Perhaps after he had been seen ‘babysitting’ the young prawn while their father was away…The image lends ideas to the other fathers in the sector.
All he had done was sit guard while the young father had left to scavenge for food. Wikus seated in front of the other prawn’s shack while the twin offspring chirr and mock fight upon his lap and around his legs.
Wikus bemoaned his fate as one of the young one’s yanked on his antenna, the larger prawn squinting his face in response to the sharp pain.
“Ow….ooow..” Wikus winces as he gently tugs the young clicking prawn off his slightly bent antenna, “L-Leave that alone, you.” The young prawn warbles and clicks within his grip as he holds the wriggling creature away from him.
His twin yowls for attention. When ignored for what he considered too long he curled into a ball in Wikus’ lap like a rollie pollie, sulkily pouting underneath his babysitter’s gaze.
“Now don’t you start...” Wikus warns, pulling both twins into his arms. He prays for patience as the twins begin another mock fight, hissing and curling their tiny claws at their brother.
Nearby another father chortles with laughter while crouched down beside his own youngster, a slim clawed hand gently held within his while his young one pokes and shifts through a nest of dry newspaper.
Wikus dredges up a glare at the chuckling prawn, sullen that his precarious position amongst two small squabbling youngsters garners no sympathy.
The very next day while Wikus takes upon babysitting duty with the twins yet again, the same father from the day before casually deposits his son several feet from Wikus. The new youngster chirrs excitedly before hopping forward to join the twins.
“W-wait a second!” Wikus stumbles to his feet, but is too late. The father already bounds away, taking to the roofs of the shack while he casually leaps from structure to structure.
Wikus mutters under his breath, a glowering crouched guard who hovers over his ‘brood’ while they act out a game of chase around his tall legs. The slightly older young prawn earns irate hisses when he clambers up Wikus’ legs and clings to the larger prawn’s shoulders, legs curled around Wikus’ bicep while snickering proudly from his vantage point while the younger twins shriek and hop around Wikus while their opponent basks from his lofty position.
III. Slight Mishap
(Can be associated with my ‘Leave and Forget’ fic)
“Wikus?” Christopher scales a tall pillar of slate stone, overlooking the thin valley beneath the high ridge. The outskirts of the alien city are pocketed with crevices and slopping hills of rock and pillars of stone. The larger prawn is concerned to have lost the smaller prawn yet again after only an hour he had lost Wikus in the maze of hills several miles from his current vantage point.
He peeked over the rim of the tall pillar when he hears his son peeping for his attention.
Oliver bounces on his feet, the thick red vest thumping against his small chest. “Wikus is stuck and can’t get down!” Oliver kindly relays to his father.
Christopher crawls down the face of the rock pillar, joining his son. “Do you mean he is trapped?”
“No.” Oliver darts a few steps away, urging his father to quickly follow. “He can’t move,” Christopher sighs at the lack of detail that his son is unable to supply him, but he patiently follows his young one’s urging to quicken their pace.
He realizes what Oliver has meant when they find Wikus.
Stuck like a cat up a tree, Wikus scowls from his position up the cliff. “See!” Oliver points dramatically up the wall of the cliff, “I told you he was stuck.” He says proudly.
“I am not!” Wikus snaps while clinging stubbornly to the jutted piece of rock from where he is perched precariously over thirty feet off the ground. Christopher can only wonder what had incited the smaller prawn’s curiosity enough to goad him to scramble up the cliff and the small handholds. He is certain Wikus was less than amused when he found that he could not make his way down the cliff just as easily. “…I just…don’t feel like coming down right now.” The smaller prawn mutters while avoiding a knowing gaze.
“You can make the drop.” Christopher points out gently.
“I’ll break my neck!”
“You will not.” Christopher coaxes, “I will not let you fall and hurt yourself.”
The larger prawn is certain he hears Wikus growl something like ‘Easy for you to say from down there’.
“I can’t!” Wikus insists as he harrowingly leans over the sharp edge of his perch, moaning softly at the sudden drop, “I can’t…I hate heights. So stupid to crawl up here. I just wanted to get up higher and have a better look..”
“Oliver, please stand back.” Christopher asks his son to step away. He curls his claws into the tiny handholds, testing the amount of pressure that he can safely apply, and begins to swiftly scale the cliff.
Wikus sheepishly hides his gaze behind a curled hand as if the dust and grit is bothering his eyes. “Hi.” He is embarrassed by his predicament, but he leans forward and purrs with thanks as Christopher climbs up the wall beside him, nuzzling the smaller fearful prawn.
“I need you to trust me.” Christopher coaxes Wikus forward. The smaller prawn hesitates, keens under his breath in fear and doubt, but at a snail-pace follows Christopher’s guiding hands. Christopher instructs Wikus to curl his arms around the larger prawn’s neck, one arm curled around Wikus’ waist as the smaller prawn slides off the rocky perch.
Wikus swallows a frightened scream as they drop when Christopher suddenly releases his one handhold. The drop is over in a split second but it feels more like minutes.
A jolting tingle shoots up Christopher’s legs when they hit the ground, the larger prawn easily absorbing the brunt of impact. Wikus still hangs on for dear life, nearly choking Christopher with his exuberance.
Oliver stands proud with his fists on his hips, declaring, “I saved you, Wikus! I found father and brought him here!” The small young one huffed, flaring his chest with gusto.
Wikus chuckles into Christopher’s neck, clinging with all four limbs, still too rattled to let his savior go after the sudden drop, “You did good, kid.” Wikus awards the young one while he is comfortable remaining within Christopher’s arms since the larger prawn shows little interest in letting him go either.