#baby deathclaw

[bonefydskeleton]

I’m really enamored with @luubyart’s entire cast of characters, but Neo and the baby deathclaw duo stole my heart last year during Art Fight! Never trust a baby deathclaw in the teething stage with your boots

[8bit-sadman]

Old doodle of my courier and his ‘daughter’.

[jcwdrawskinda]

Thank you again so much for commissioning me, @raid3r-r4bbit! I loved drawing your characters so much!

[raid3r-r4bbit]

@fuzzydreamin thank you for the idea lol

(Wanted to add the line art cause I liked it)

[roundsoup]

pixel art baby deathclaw

[kinkshame-the-courier]

Oc kiss day 2: (no prompt used)

Cobalt and one of his baby deathclaws <3

[keiko-fallout]

Trying to learn how to draw the wasteland puppers

[breadandblankets]

Leaves crunch and twigs snap as Jason, lead foot and tired, stomps back to their little campsite with his bag of sad looking tatos, onions, and herbs.

(Herbs were the real hot commodity in the Commonwealth, the only people who still had em after the war were the Vaults. Well except for rosemary.... and mint. Like radroaches those weeds.)

Jason was about 75% certain that the lady at the market stand had upcharged him for his handsome mug.

Fucking assholes. This was why he didn't leave Goodneighbor for too long.

His charge was still where Jason had left him, sitting prim and proper in the makeshift camp Jason had set up before he left.

As he approached, Damian glanced up sharply, his hand outstretched with a piece of jerky no doubt stolen from Jason's pack. He was feeding it to a-

Jason stops in his tracks.

No fucking way.

"Brat that better not be what I think it is."

"I wasn't aware that you had enough brain cells left to think Todd."

"That's a fucking baby deathclaw."

Indeed it was, about the size of a medium dog with claws the same length as it's head. The little ball of tanky lizard destruction took Damian's distraction as an opportunity to snatch the jerky out of his hand.

"This is Humphrey, I hatched her myself."

".....What?"

"Hatched her, do keep up Todd."

"How long have you had her?" Jason tries to run the rough math on how long deathclaws incubate eggs for a runs into the brick wall that is the terror that Damian just stole a deathclaw egg from presumably a deathclaw mother.

The fact that Damian was anywhere near a position to be in the vicinity of a deathclaw mother meant Talia was going to kill him stone dead. For good this time.

"Three weeks," Damian reports in a clipped tone. He says this while petting the tiny creature that Jason has no doubt in his mind could rip them both to shreds in seconds.

Jason had lost more than a few traveling companions to the claws of a pissed lizard, they're the kind of animal that just gets mad when you shoot it.

But this was also Damian, the twerp had some sort of uncanny nack for getting the creepy crawlies of the Commonwealth to listen to him.

Fucking damnit.

"Fine, but you're explaining this to your mother."

"Acceptable," Damian sniffs, holding out a hand to shake.

Jason, despite himself, takes it.

[massensterben]

ooc. btw when i get you all into the fallout au from three years ago. then you will realize.

[ss-bullseye]

Doodles of baby UP Deathclaw Deacon and my UPD leader character Payne >:)

[neptuniadoesstuff]

(Req) Designs for Bitey and Cat? :D (if you want to idk-)

Hehe chompy gremlin and smol chubby (bro’s earthy colours, may have patterns and funky horns? Idk, not one of the glowy ones tho. Just round)

(Cuz I feel like Bitey’d be friends with him if les two baby deathclaws ever met-)

okay bye *scurries away*

Uhhh here is 2 gremlins. Is this what u want? (Bcs I didn't really put much effort into this so sorry if it's trash)

Yeh that's uh. Tahst it.

Again didn't put much effort into this, idk I really don't wanna do art dares/requests anymore. (For a week to a month) (this would be temporary tbh)

Anyways enjoy yur doodle of the 2 childrens.

[cookierebel]

celebradiation gift for @space-kase! decided to go with 'player character and their adopted deathclaw'. tall lady and her very tall son. hope you like it!

[fallout-fucker]

Crows Of The Commonwealth

I was on CrowTok and it made me come up with an idea.

So, obviously a lot of the crows in the Commonwealth are made by the Institute, though I personally like to believe that there are still a lot of crows that are regular ones, too.

Crows are an incredibly smart species of bird, which makes sense as to why they're the ones the Institute use. To my memory, I don't think there are any other birds in the game. Again, I'd like to headcanon that they're not the only ones left but if only a few species of birds managed to survive the bombs and the aftermath, I wouldn't put it past crows to be one of those species due to that intelligence.

Crows are known for recognising people, which also works in favour of the Institute as to why they'd choose them specifically. If you are able to tell the difference between individual crows, you'll be less likely to question if a specific one if following you if you are aware they likely recognise you.

However, they're also known to bring gifts and trinkets if treated right, or actually attack people who don't. And they remember faces. I don't get the impression that the Institute treats them too kindly if they don't even consider Gen 3 Synths as people, who are literally created with technology and human biology/DNA.

If we imagine that the Institute Crows work like Synths do, then that means that they are also able to become independent like Synths can. We know they have the level of intelligence, more so than another species of bird, to perhaps reach that level of independence. That's exactly why the Institute picked them. Wouldn't it be ironic if that became part of the Institute's downfall.

So imagine a Sole Survivor, fresh out of the Vault, scared and cold on their first few nights. Hungry, tired, likely sick, grieving. Alone. They have Dogmeat. They have themselves. A few strangers they saved. Nothing else.

They're trying their best one night to settle. They've only been unfrozen for a few days by now, but have yet to leave Sanctuary. They chose to stay for a couple days to prepare for their long journey ahead, and rebuild their home so they had somewhere to go back to. Preston has taught them basics self defence and survival, Sturges has helped them temporarily fix the holes in their walls. They're not close to these strangers yet, but there's a small comfort in knowing there's still people, and people nearby to run to if anything not friendly comes knocking on their door.

They're picking at a 200 year old box of stale cereal, not able to stomach the taste just yet. In the end, they end up leaving it in a bowl for Dogmeat to have, preferring to sleep, hunger be damned. They sleep on the floor that used to hold the dinning table, not ready to sleep in the now-too-empty bedrooms.

By morning, their sleep is interrupted. Not by the cold October air that their thin, makeshift blanket- That doubles as their coat during the day- barley keeps away. Not by the sunlight that seeps in by the broken shards of class where the window used to be. Not by drops of rain that fall through the cracks in the ceiling. Not even by Dogmeat licking then awake, like he did yesterday morning. This time it's the sound of pecking and squawking that has Sole prying their eyes open.

A small group of grows picking at the bowl of cereal. They must've gotten in through what once was the window, or literally any of the holes of missing metal panels scattered throughout the building. Sole barely has it in them to care. They know they shouldn't waste food that could've gone to them or their new furry friend, but they truly cannot bring it in them to mind. They wonder if the birds have a hard time finding food, too, and decide it might not be a waste at all.

They sit up. A few of the crows fly up onto the windowsill at their movements, one stays enjoying their breakfast, unfazed. Sole waits, sitting still until the birds realise they have no intention of harming them. They glide back down onto the floor, going back to eating.

After a few moments, the crow that stayed perks his head up, neck twitching into an angle that lets him look at Sole. He hops over, stopping just before he reaches their lap. Sole raises their hand, thumb and index finger moving slowly until they land on its neck. His feathers bristle under Sole's pets, his feet dancing happily beneath him. The other crows finish their breakfast. Salem, Sole decides to call him, joins his friends who hop back onto the windowsill. They fly off. He turns his head to the side, a beady eye looking at Sole again. He squawks at them before flying off to join the others.

Sole spends the rest of their day taking metal panels from some of the completely collapsed houses to fix the holes in their walls. They're able to find paint at the old Red Rocket down the road when looking for more equipped tools. Repainting isn't exactly their priority right now, just making sure the house will be fit to stand against the weather, and for when it gets colder in the next few months. The paint will be useful when they get to the stage of being able to consider making it look presentable, however. Unfortunately, the only paintbrush they find is snapped in half. They toss it in frustration. Less so because of the brush itself, and more so because Sole has a lot of anger built up from the events of the last few days that they have no other outlet for.

They end up going home when the sun starts to set, having avoided the empty tomb of memories for as long as possible. It wasn't safe to be out so close to dark.

When they set down their tolls by the door, something on the kitchen counter catches their eye.

Upon inspection, they realise it's an intact paintbrush.

Their confusion lasts barely five seconds, as they hear a familiar squawk. Hoping on the windowsill is Salem. His eyes study Sole. He's waiting. Sole smiles, pulling open the duffle bag they'd taken on their supply run. They pull out two wild mutfruits, which they'd harvested from bushes near the station. Sole cuts them into smaller pieces, before tossing them gently into the grass of their back garden from the car porch. Salem glides to the pieces, now satisfied in knowing that Sole approved of and appreciated his gift. Sole looks up to the trees that border their garden where other crows have started to also descend from to join in on the food offering. Apparently, there's a lot more in this group than what Sole had assumed from the smaller one earlier. About twenty feathered creatures dance about on branches decorated by orange and brown leaves or nibble at the mutfruit in the grass.

Salem flies over once he's had his fill, taking a seat on Sole's shoulder. His friends also begin hopping over gradually, and Sole ends up sitting down to welcome them and pet their small heads. Dogmeat also seems to love the attention, or perhaps just the warmth that radiates from Sole's body as he curls up next to them. Every so often, one of them drops a trinket into Sole's lap as they snuggle into them. A random screw, some gears, even some bottlecaps. Bits and bobs that a few days ago, Sole would've considered mostly junk, even if they'd still been appreciative, but everything now is useful. They even drop a few things by Dogmeat's snout, who sniffs them, tail wagging. Sole doesn't think Salem appreciates the happy licks Dogmeat gives him, though.

Regardless, Sole breathes out slowly, deeply, as they take in the sunset and birdsong before them. It's the first time they've honestly felt any peace since leaving that godforsaken Vault.

Sole makes a mental note to redesign the kitchen window when they get around to fixing it so that it'll be able to open widely. They also begin thinking about designs for birdhouses, feeders, and small fountains.

It's safe to say Sole feels slightly better than they did when they went to bed last night.

They feel less alone.

For some reason, as Salem nestles into their lap, against their stomach, a small pressure builds in their gut. They can't quite shake the instinct, the thought that comes with it. The feeling that Salem feels less alone now, too.

[jackals-ships]

(Crashes through your window)

NUMBER 27!

@askthelovenest

[f/o numbers game]

i swear there was a vine meme Smthin with 27 but Google is withholding that information ANYWAY :} the boy

baby boy. baby <3 yes im including the fact he stabs a man who's rude to you at ur first meeting in my baby assessment !! also fun fact he's the first one i Fully romanced bc i didn't realize you could at first then i went 🥺 you can kiss him???

so fallout!jackal is, hilariously, one of my few s/i's who is just Some Dude. literally just Some Guy except this some guy has PUPPY EARS !!! and a tail which they keep hidden for Safety Reasons. they also have a very,,,not quite Meek demeanor but they're pretty shy and avoidant when around larger groups bc projecting time babieee so for awhile they're kinda aaaAA around Hancock bc he's Boisterous and Excited to see a new face and they're like i just wanna feed the rad roaches by myself please

anyways they accidentally rob him (which you can do in game) and he's like "....... fahrenheit are you SURE-?" "they confessed and everything" "..... REALLY?" and he's like Upset but they're Also the epitome of 🥺 and they DO feel bad !! so he has them working for him doing odd jobs in return for Not Shooting Them For Stealing From Him which helps them get closer and jackal opens up slowly <3

also the first time he saw their ears he was like "damn. weird trip I'm on-" until he saw jackal getting alll squirrelly then he was like "...OH SHIT THEY'RE REAL- can I touch 🥺?"

[not-your-lifeline]

Me gushing about my pet Quantum Deathclaw Sweetpea to X6-88 and him being like 'can I also try taming one too' and also getting hyped about it

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

[potatoesandsunshine]

small jobs is just so fiddly. like to work on it i reread the whole series, open like six documents, consult the chart that has the timeline and the quests that have been completed, open four more tabs of the wiki which works like it always does (badly), wait for the wind to be right, despair that i've lost sight of the core philosophy of the 'verse, and then i sit there imagining the courier and red lucy hooking up back when she had 9 luck before the game even started for like forty five minutes and i don't actually get any new writing done. and yes it's my favorite thing to write.