So this one was made, as obviously stated, for Sonic's 33rd Anniversary. Less babies this time around, because they're just the ones that got added to the already massive roster from the previous drawing. It's also a smaller drawing, so everyone is a tad bit less detailed, but I'm still happy with how it came out.
Keep on reading to learn more about the beans!
Okay, so clearly they're not numbered, so we're gonna have to get a bit more descriptive this time around. So bare with me here.
Angelite!Sonic
The one with the big, fluffy white wings. Frankly he's mostly just a Sonic design, but I do have vague ideas of what his story would be about, particularly dealing with a magic Angelite gemstone and possibly a war.
LittleNightmares!Sonic(s)
The giant, weird looking Sonic + the little guy with a glowing flower crown beside him. Both of them are for a potential Little Nightmares crossover. I have some ideas, but I'm refraining from making a concrete story until the third game is out. But they do have names! Big guy is Urso, and lil' guy is Bottle.
Silenced
The white wolf. Yeah, that's Sonic. From a story in which Sonic sells his identity to secure a happy ending for his friends, and in the process is cursed to always be forgotten. His name becomes Olive Mallory, and where the story ended, he never got a happy ending. Olive is a Relic! So you can actually ask him things! I'm sure he'll be happy to be asked things and be remembered.
Two Motes of Golden Light
Another design for this series! The original was really just tied to Koco Logs, but this one is unique to the series. (Although I did mess up while coloring him, and his eyes should be brown)
Hydrocity (As in Velocity)
The Sonic with the tall black boots. My Sonic x Subnautica crossover!
GreenWorld!Sonic
The Sonic in the black cloak. A Sonic AU inspired by this beautiful animation. But centuries after most of his friends have passed on, Sonic is still there. As the Emerald's chosen, as their favorite, as their vessel in a world were their power reaches less and less people, he remains, undying and unwilling. Unsure if I'll do more with him, but he's here.
Fountain of Youth
The dragon Sonic! Also part of my silly little "let's see how much trauma and how many transformations I can fit in this bad boy" series, Eggman's discovery of an ancient curse leaves Sonic... a little different than usual.
It's Not About Romance
The Sonic in the green cloak. Part of series I'll write eventually, with a vampire and werewolf scenario. Except it's not Sonadow, or Sonamy, or Shadamy, or whatever ship is usually the focus of vampire/werewolf AUs. Nothing against those ships, is just that I really want to see the concept explored not as a romance but as an adventure. (Thus the series name).
Gilded Gold
The Super Sonic taking a lil' nap. Part of a story I'm writing with @azthedragon. It's been super fun so far! I wanna say more, but spoilers shall keep me quiet.
Internal Turmoil
The glowing colorful gaggle in the lower right corner. Back again is the Inside Out AU, but with Sonic's new emotions! Anxiety, Apathy, Shame, and Envy. But it's Sonic the Hedgehog, so they surely just sit back and don't do much of anything.
Saiph
Saiph! Saiph! In the middle of the image is Saiph! A spin-off of my PsyChlo AU (from 2023, if you remember), he's a version of PsyChlo that got adopted and pulled out of his bad situation. Who adopted him? Why Beetlejuice, of course. Saiph originated from a roleplay with my friend @sad-catbrick, and he's kinda of an icon, so I couldn't not include him.
Summary: After the disastrous end of his latest "shield," Sebastian retreats to the common room only to face a relentless verbal dismantling from Ominis. As Ominis gleefully tallies Sebastian’s mounting list of failed distractions, Sebastian is forced to realize that no amount of speed-dating can outrun the truth—or his best friend's razor-sharp wit.
Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt.
Word Count: ~620 words
The Slytherin common room was quiet, the emerald glow of the Black Lake shimmering across the stone floor like liquid light. Ominis sat in his usual high-backed chair near the hearth, his fingers dancing across the raised text of a heavy Braille volume.
The silence was shattered by the heavy, rhythmic thud of boots against the stairs, followed by a dramatic, frustrated groan as Sebastian let his entire weight collapse onto the velvet sofa beside him. The springs groaned in protest.
Ominis didn't look up from his book, but a small, knowing smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Back already? I expected you to be halfway through a dissertation on the social hierarchy of the Selkie by now. Where is Nerida?"
"You don't want to know," Sebastian muttered, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. "Believe me, Ominis. You really, truly do not want to know."
Ominis closed his book with a soft thud and turned his head slightly toward his friend. "On the contrary, Sebastian, I find myself deeply invested. What happened? Did she find a particularly fascinating piece of lake-weed?"
"She asked me to be a merman," Sebastian said, his voice flat.
Ominis paused. "I beg your pardon?"
"She wanted me to hold my breath and stare at her without blinking," Sebastian explained, the sheer absurdity of the words making him rub his temples. "As some sort of... aquatic foreplay. It was the single most uncomfortable minute of my life."
The silence that followed was brief, ended only by Ominis’s sudden, sharp bark of laughter. He leaned back, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "A merman? Oh, Sebastian. You really do have a talent for finding the most... eccentric distractions."
"It’s over," Sebastian snapped, grabbing a stray cushion and hugging it to his chest like a shield. "I ended it. Right then and there."
"Of course you did," Ominis chuckled, his voice dripping with irony. "That brings the 'Sallow Shield' count to two. Grace didn’t last because she was too shallow, and Nerida because she was... well, too deep. Literally."
Sebastian let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "Ha. Funny. You’re a riot, Ominis."
"I’m serious, Sebastian," Ominis said, his tone shifting from mockery to a more pointed brand of sass. "At this rate, with the speed you’re cycling through the student body, you’ll have dated every girl in our year before the end of the term. You could make a list. You could even charge for the experience. 'The Sebastian Sallow Disappointment Tour.' It has a certain ring to it."
"I was trying to be busy," Sebastian argued, his jaw tightening. "I was trying to stop waiting for... for things that aren't happening."
"And instead, you’ve become the most prolific heartbreaker in Slytherin house for all the wrong reasons," Ominis noted. He reached out and tapped the arm of the sofa. "The 'numbness' isn't working, is it? You’re just trading one ghost for a series of increasingly bizarre nightmares."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sebastian said, his voice tight and defensive as he looked away. He stared into the green depths of the lake through the glass, thinking of the boathouse. He had successfully overwritten the memory of the Gaelic book with the memory of a girl asking him to turn blue, but the victory felt hollow—especially since Ominis had just dismantled his entire defense in three sentences.
"Who’s next on the list?" Ominis asked, his voice returning to a light, teasing lilt. "Imelda? She’d probably make you run laps if you tried to kiss her. Or perhaps Charlotte Morrison? You might have better luck with her, as long as you don't mind putting on some fake fox ears to match the ones she grew a few years ago."
"There is no one next," Sebastian growled, standing up abruptly. He paused, looking down at his friend with a narrow, suspicious gaze. "And since when have you become so 'funny', Ominis? I'm not sure I'm enjoying this sudden surplus of sass."
Ominis tilted his head, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. "Oh, well... I suppose since you’ve been so preoccupied with your various 'shields', I’ve found quite a bit of time to sharpen my wit. It’s amazing what one notices when they aren't being dragged into a tomb every other Tuesday." He sensed Sebastian turning on his heel. "Hey, wait—where are you going?"
"I’m going to bed," Sebastian said, his voice bitter. "Alone. In a room where no one expects me to be a fish."
"A wise choice," Ominis called after him as Sebastian marched toward the dormitory stairs. "But do let me know if you decide to try the Hufflepuffs next. I hear they’re very fond of gardening. You could pretend to be a mandrake!"
Sebastian didn't look back, but the sound of Ominis’s quiet, lingering laughter followed him all the way up the stairs, a stinging reminder that no matter how many distractions he found, Ominis—and the truth—would always be waiting.
What the fuck is romantic attraction? How the fuck am I meant to say yes, I'm this, when I can't even work out whether what I'm feeling is romantic or not?
And you can't ask people, because they just go all mysterious "when you feel it you'll know" but I don't. I just don't.
I know I don't have to put a label on it, but I'd like to have some kind of vague idea beyond who the fuck knows
I’m wondering if I should start introducing the other guys in the story now? Like, I have already some back story in my head, but GOD MY EXAMS START NEXT WEEK AND IF I GET INTO THAT NOW I WON’T BE ABLE TO CONCENTRATE ON ANYTHING ELSE-
Summary: In a desperate attempt to drown out vivid memories of a connection he cannot have, Sebastian uses a public display of affection as a "mute button" for his own conscience. However, a sharp intervention by Professor Sharp and the realization that his charade is hollow lead to a cold, abrupt ending that leaves him with a bitter clarity and a vindictive new enemy in Slytherin House.
Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Grace Pinch-Smedley, Professor Sharp, Ominis Gaunt.
Word Count: ~880 words
Masterlist
The rhythmic, heavy thrum-thrum of the Great Clock echoed through the courtyard, a mechanical heartbeat that seemed to mock the frantic pace of Sebastian’s mind.
He sat on the stone bench, Grace draped across his side, her voice a relentless, rapid-fire stream of chatter that usually acted like a thick fog over his mind. Ordinarily, her dissection of the "appalling" lack of decorum among the Hufflepuffs would have been enough to drown out every internal whisper, leaving him in a state of blessed, shallow silence where he couldn't even hear his own heartbeat, let alone his thoughts. But today, the wall of sound wasn't thick enough; her words were becoming nothing but blurred static, and through the noise, his own mind was screaming to be heard.
An image flashed unbidden into his mind: the memory of that half-light in the Room of Requirement. He could still feel the impossible softness of her hair as he’d tucked a stray lock behind her ear, the way his fingers had brushed against the slight, feverish pink of her cheeks. He remembered her half-lidded hazel eyes, dark and searching, and the specific, inviting shade of her lips as they’ve hovered just inches from his own. In the silence of that memory, he was back there—so close he could feel the radiating warmth of her body and the soft, hitching rhythm of her breath against his skin.
The thought made his stomach twist with a familiar, acidic frustration. He needed it to stop. He needed to be numb again.
He didn't wait for Grace to finish her sentence. He reached out, his hand cupping the back of her neck, and pulled her toward him with a suddenness that made her gasp. He silenced his thoughts with a kiss that was as intense as it was empty.
It was his favorite trick—his "mute button." For the first few moments, it worked perfectly. The physical friction of their lips and the heat of her skin acted like static, successfully muting the relentless noise of his own conscience and drowning out the world outside the stone archway.
But as the seconds ticked by, the static began to crack.
Behind his closed eyelids, the image of the Undercroft from last year erupted with a jarring, vivid clarity. He was back in that damp, torch-lit silence. He remembered telling her about the 'scandalous' pick-up lines he’d found in Rookwood's memories. He could still see her genuine, joyful laugh as she challenged him to prove it—he remembered the ghost of her hitched breath against his ear as he’d whispered. He remembered the smug triumph in his chest when he saw her flustered and crimson-faced, utterly undone by his proximity. The "numbness" was thinning, and reality was clawing its way back into his consciousness.
Sebastian felt a surge of panic. He couldn't let the silence break. He grabbed her by the waist and sat her on his lap with a frantic strength, trying to force the sensory overload to consume him entirely. He kissed her harder, deeper, chasing the high-voltage rush of adrenaline that usually acted like a Draught of Living Death for his conscience. He was fighting a war against his own memory, using Grace as his only weapon.
Grace made a small, muffled sound of surprise, her hands clutching at his robes as she tried to match his sudden, violent intensity.
But the harder he tried to lose himself, the more he found himself. The passion was a hollow shell. Through the heat and the friction, the cold realization finally pierced through: he wasn't feeling a thing. The adrenaline was gone, replaced by the bitter taste of copper and the jarring awareness that he was holding a stranger while thinking of someone else.
The 'mute button' didn't just break; it was shattered as Professor Sharp’s cane tapped softly against Sebastian’s leg.
"Mr. Sallow. Miss Pinch-Smedley."
The voice was as sharp and cold as a winter frost. Grace jumped off his lap and sat next to Sebastian, her face instantly turning a bright, humiliated scarlet as she smoothed her robes with trembling hands. The Potions Master looked entirely unimpressed, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze lingering on Sebastian’s disheveled robes with a look of clinical boredom.
"I was under the impression that the courtyard was intended for fresh air and reflection, not for... whatever biological display this is," Sharp noted. He didn't look scandalized; he looked like he was assessing a failed potion. "Ten points from Slytherin. Each. And I suggest you find a more private place—or perhaps more academic—use of your time before I decide to make it twenty. Move along."
Sharp didn't wait for an apology. He turned on his heel, the steady clack-clack of his cane fading into the distance as he disappeared toward the Great Hall.
The silence that followed was heavy and absolute. The adrenaline was completely gone, leaving Sebastian feeling exposed and profoundly exhausted. He looked at Grace, but he didn't really see her as a girl anymore; he saw her as a symptom of his own desperation. Slowly, he reached up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a gesture of instinctive, cold disgust—not necessarily for her, but for the charade he had been forcing. He stood up without saying a word, his movements jerky and stiff, looking down at her with a flat, hollow disappointment that made the air between them turn to ice.
"Sebastian? What is it? We were—"
"I'm done, Grace," he said, his voice flat and devoid of the charm he’d been faking for days. The silence of the courtyard was suddenly schooling.
Grace straightened up, her expression shifting from confusion to a dawning, sharp-edged realization. "Done? You mean you're tired? We can go back to the common room if—"
"No," Sebastian interrupted, smoothing his robes. He didn't look at her. "I mean we are done. This... whatever this is. It’s over."
The silence that followed was heavier than the ticking clock. Grace’s face contorted, her prettiness vanishing behind a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. She stood up, her hands trembling at her sides.
"Over?" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "You’ve been leading me on for days! You kissed me like you were starving, and now you’re just done? You think you can just discard me like a broken quill?"
'Yes,' he thought, but he stayed silent.
"You're a monster, Sebastian Sallow!" Grace spat, stepping into his space. "Everyone says you're troubled, but you're just cruel."
Sebastian flinched at the word "cruel," but he kept his face a mask of indifference. He watched as she gathered her things, her eyes wet with angry tears.
She turned and marched away, the heels of her shoes clicking sharply against the stone. Sebastian watched her go, feeling a strange mixture of relief and a lingering, cold dread. Grace Pinch-Smedley was shallow, but she was also vindictive.
Half an hour later, Sebastian walked into the Great Hall for lunch. He spotted Ominis already seated at the Slytherin table, a space cleared around him as usual. Sebastian slid into the seat opposite his friend, grabbing a green apple and buffing it against his sleeve.
Ominis didn't even look up from his plate. "The air around you has regained its usual scent of bitterness," Ominis noted, his voice dripping with sass. "I take it the floral perfume has been... permanently removed from the equation?"
Sebastian bit into the apple, the crunch loud in the quiet space. "It’s over, Ominis. I got bored."
"Bored?" Ominis echoed, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "How shocking. And here I thought the two of you were destined for a lifetime of discussing the Malfoys' tea service. I assume the breakup was as graceful as her name implies?"
"She screamed. She called me a monster. The usual," Sebastian muttered.
Ominis chuckled, leaning back. "Well, at least you’ve stopped the charade. I was beginning to think I’d have to start listening to her myself just to find out where you’d disappeared to. Though, I must say, Sebastian... the 'numbness' you were chasing seems to have left you more exhausted than ever. Was the distraction worth the price of a very angry, very loud enemy in our own house?"
'No,' Sebastian thought, staring toward the Gryffindor table where a certain crimson scarf was visible among the red and gold. 'It didn't work at all.'
"I'll manage," Sebastian said aloud.
"I’m sure you will," Ominis replied, his tone turning serious for a split second. "Just try not to pick up another 'shield' before the first one’s finished throwing hexes at your back."
