#ylthinocrambles

Me, who'd been primarily obsessing over OCs after realizing I can just Write My Own Guys about 6 months into my 40K hyperfix (i.e. for the last three years):

You remember the various animals, domestic and wild, that used to live there, and the objects crafted in their image - toys, instruments, pottery. You remember what materials were used and how they were harvested, but not the people who worked the clay digs, cut the wood or harvested bone and horn.

You remember a village - the shape of each house and layout of passages between them - but not its inhabitants. In your recurring dreams, it is always empty. All the doors are wide-open, but no face comes out to greet you. Smoke lingers in the air as always, but the sharp smell of gunpowder chokes out the scent of burning wood. You feel the warmth of the flames around you, but you know the true blaze is yet to come. The weapon in your hands weighs heavy despite your enhanced physique.

Finally, a familiar voice breaks the silence. It's your lochias - your squad commander - at the time. The exact words are long lost to your memory, but you remember his way of speaking - curt, rough, always on the edge. Most of the time you wouldn't hear anything but commands, insults and reprimands snarled through his teeth. That one time, however, he speaks of you with praise.

You were focused, efficient and obedient. Your value to the Legion is proven once more, and you will be rewarded accordingly.

You remember thinking - because you still do - that you'd rather be punished.

You wake up and breathe in the stale, faintly chemical voidship air. The unpleasant heat on your back subsides as soon as you roll over to your side and tug off the thin bedsheets. The dormitory around you is near-empty. Your lochias - a stern, but patient and soft-spoken man - approaches in silence, sits at the edge of your bed and cradles your hand. He couldn't have understood whatever words you spoke in your sleep, but he clearly knows you had that dream again.

Both of you have one. None of you ever mention the details.

You just squeeze his hand and nod your head, and he slowly lets go. He knows there's no point in dwelling. You're set to deploy again today, and you need to be focused, efficient, obedient. It's what the Legion values and rewards. It's how you survive.

Sometimes you'd rather didn't. And sometimes you'd rather just forgot. But as both of you get up and ready, you remind yourself once more, the thing isn't that you need to remember or forget.

Average latter half of the light cycle in the Lord-Sorcerer chambers aboard Chaos voidship Wayfaring Medea.

evening doodle of my Chaos Sorcerer/Technomancer, trying to finally nail down his design

No, best I can do is some combination of shoddy meme redraw, NSFW or "Khonsu exhibits peak goblin behavior" gayboy art.

I'd post the "Freyr getting his head squished" one in full, as jank and bad as it is (perspective? never heard of 'em!) but I fear Tumblr will slap me with the NSFW label, so paired crops it is.