#thingverse

Yeah! I ate them, of course.

💜💛

I really need to finish this au lol

I forgot this in my drafts.

1. The Socs don't make an appearance in the series because they are summer only staff, they get to go home and be warm and with family the rest of the year.

2. Dallas, Tim, and Mark are all pseudo siblings from the same pod, while Mason was unrelated (Tex was not a Thing, but was part of the station Tim destroyed upon being woken up, when Dallas and Mark got their bodies)

3. Things reproduce asexually in this au, so Angela and Curly are Tim's parthenogenic banies/clones.

4. Two-Bit has suspected Dallas of being a Thing since he was the only one to come back from the trip to check the other base, but never said anything because he didn't want to be right and Dallas never causes any problems.

Westernverse is for Amnesty week so it won't be posted until then, but if I finish it now I can post it immediately on day 1 of posting week and not get stuck scrambling to finish it in time. Two chapters, I believe.

Thingverse ch2, which is technically the end but also I have a Two-Bit pov snippet I can't work on until after Ch2. Is done.

4/4

Put Your ear to my Heart or set Your Teeth Against my Throat. - Thingverse, dalpony ship

He blinks open his eyes to his parents, snow raining down in a near-blinding white out. He hovered a foot away from where they were trying to help two teenage boys. The younger one was dying, blood pouring out of him despite all of his mother's attempts to staunch it. As the younger gasps his final breaths and falls still the older screams out "Tex!" And throws himself down to shake his younger brother.

Dallas had stepped up to stand beside Pony, to offer him comfort, when his mother reached out to do the same with the older boy he'd spun on his heel and lunged at them with an unearthly crackling screech that set Ponyboy's skin alight.

It happened quick, but Ponyboy saw the sequence in slow motion. The widening of his mothers eyes, the way his father reached for her, how the teens body unraveled from itself into a blooming burst of fleshy vines that peirced through his mother's chest, the burst of acidic green bile that shot out of the end and onto his father, covering his entire front end- his father's screams as he melted right before Pony's eyes-

"What was your family like? Do you remember any of them?" Icy wind bites at Ponyboy Curtis's cheeks, the heavy winter coat protecting most of his body from the chill of antarctic air. Each step is heavy as he trudges through the snow, the path they'd walked just an hour before already half filled with snow again.

"I did, I met them once. I ain't know much about them though." Dallas Winston's voice is playful, he's walking a step in front of Ponyboy, making it easier for Ponyboy to walk. He'd glanced over his shoulder to respond, heavy toolbox in one hand and the other tucked in the pocket of his large brown coat.

"You ever think about finding them?" Honestly Ponyboy was bored, they'd spent the last hour and a half diagnosing a radio tower that'd been knocked around in the blizzard that'd only just barely ended. He was curious, but the thought of Dallas leaving made something in his chest hurt.

Dallas seems to read something in his tone as he sets the toolbox down and turns around, leaning his face in so close to Ponyboy's that he can taste the jerky on his breath. Dallas's light blue eyes staring into Ponyboy's with something intense bared for him. "I am perfectly happy exactly where I am. I ain't gonna leave ya anytime soon Pones." Ponyboy's face heats up, butterflies in his stomach fluttering up his throat, and a smile breaks out on his face that's reflected with Dallas's sharp teeth.

-Incoming bogey, be advised, incoming bogey, over.-

They jump apart as the radios clipped to their belts both go off, Two-Bit's voice cutting out just as the sound of helicopter blades fills the air.

Ponyboy can see his older brothers and the rest of the crew gathering out front by the landing pad, he grabs Dallas's beltloop to stick close to him as he scoops up the toolbox and leads the way over.

Pale skin painted and stretched over foreign limbs that he doesn't know how to move correctly, an ill-fitting body and no time to correct his mistakes as screams and shouts from the child's parents outside the door, red hot fire and he's running- scrambling with all four gangly limbs out back into the snow- cold panicked running, sharp teeth cutting the insides of his cheeks and metal tags bouncing against his chest, phantom burns flaring up through his body making him stumble. He needs to get away-

He drags pure oxygen into his foreign lungs and all he can taste is metal, so far out into the cold that he can no longer see the glow of the fire- he's alone, he's not supposed to be alone, why is he alone? Who was supposed to be with him?

The pale skin stretched across his arms is stained in red and he can't remember how he's supposed to look but he knows it's wrong.