#Cryptic Slaughter

[cimmerian-war-shrine]

[thrashunderpressure]

Cryptic Slaughter - State Control

[gotankgo]

1985

[drugstorecowboi]

Cryptic Slaughter: “State Control” Convicted (1986)

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

ℭ𝔯𝔶𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔖𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 - 𝔚𝔞𝔯 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔎𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔢

[metalcultbrigade]

Cryptic Slaughter - Stream Of Consciousness. 15/08/1988

[doomreturn]

[themetalmassacrevault]

Released OTD 1988

[apanthropydotorg]

Review 74: Onslaught Kommand - Malignancy

Onslaught KommandMalignancyGodz ov War ProductionsReleased: 10/18/24 –1 – Elite Hunting Gore2 – Pissrot Humiliation3 – Third World Stoning4 – Becoming a Gut Pile5 – Born to be Deformed6 – Satanic Storming7 – Backyard of Corpses8 – Pervert Goat Kommand9 – Morbid Warfare10 – Inside the Mutilator’s Bunker11 – What’s in the Abyss?12 – Carbonized at the Lynching Tree13 – One Trench – Several Dead…

[digik1rby]

Glitch STARK

The bubble says: I said take it

[cimmerian-war-shrine]

[thrashunderpressure]

Cryptic Slaughter - Lowlife

[gotankgo]

Cryptic Slaughter “Reich of Torture”

• Convicted (1986)

[themetalyears]

Wehrmacht / Cryptic Slaughter - Live Obscene Extreme Trutnov - 2014

Two excellent, reformed, crossover bands from the 80s.

[genericpenname]

Just as Memory & Thought Foretold

Description: The shrieks and calls of ravens have always haunted your dreams, tainting them with cryptic messages and horrible visions, but they have always guided you. However, for the past two months, they seem to be guiding you towards Death Incarnate.

Pairing: Viking!Blacksmith!SimonRiley × Seer!F!Reader

CW: Typical canon violence, gore, romanticization of gore, drug use, awkward parent conversations, will contain smut, historical inaccuracies mixed in with historical accuracies (other content warnings will be added as needed per chapter, however these are general warnings)

Chapter One: Ravens, a Grove, and an Old Man

The cries of ravens haunt your dreams; this time, they sit on your shoulders, claws bearing into your skin as you walk through a beautiful and lush forest. The lush greenery does not distract you though, you have a purpose: someone is waiting for you and so, you continue to walk until the forest opens up into a grove where an elder stands. He awaits you. As you approach him, he begins to speak, “Völva, who performs seid through her dreams,” He turns, blue eye piercing through you, “You must bind thyself to the draugr favored by valkyries and blessed by Brokkr. To do so will spell your fortune and prosperity, to deny him will spell doom for us all.”

As if to demonstrate the man's warning, the grove began to wilt, and bodies began dropping into it, their blood seeping into the yellowed grass as the ravens took flight from your shoulders and began singing , “Bind thyself to the draugr, bind thyself to the draugr,” over and over as blood and carrion filled the grove. You turn to run only to be met with the most terrifying sight of all.

He was dressed in black furs with paint smeared over his darkened gaze, and blood, so much blood. It stained his scarred porcelain skin and white-blonde hair, and as your gazes locked the bodies began to scream and claw at your ankles. You are rooted in spot as he begins to approach. You want to scream, you want to run, but all you can do is stand as this predator stalks towards you and the ravens shriek and the bodies cry and it all coalesces into a terrifying cacophony of death and doom. “Bind thyself to the draugr, bind thyself to the draugr!”

You bolt upright, cold sweat clinging onto you and your underclothes as the smell of blood slowly fades from your senses and the phantom ache of claws in your shoulders leaves you wincing. This dream of yours has been haunting you for two moon cycles; ever since your father ordered your mother to begin preparing you for marriage. Each time, however, the visions grew more violent and each time, you never saw his face. It worried you, that the gods had assigned a mysterious and violent lover for you, were you meant to bear the brunt of his violence? You hoped not, you would not heed a man who laid hands on you.

Your dreams tended to fade away during the day, for there was always much to do but today it stuck with you. The stench of the corpses followed you when you slaughtered a chicken for food, then you heard the terrible song of the ravens as a crow flew by causing you to jump and almost drop the chicken’s carcass, and you nearly shrieked when you bumped into one of your villages vikings, his gaze dark and covered with warpaint just like the monster in your dream.

Your violent dreams nipped and gnashed at your heels like a feral animal, chasing you throughout the day causing you to be distracted and your work to be clumsy. It caused even your mother to stop and notice, she frowned as she asked if you were well, “I'm fine, ma.” You replied with a tired smile, which she frowned deeper at and went to get herbs to boil for you.

Gods above and below you needed more than just herbs, you needed a good night’s rest and not have Odin cursing you with visions of a murderous man the ravens called a “draugr”. If you were to prepare for wifehood, you needed rest to practice your duties. Unfortunately, the gods cared not for your mortal toils as you became more and more exhausted throughout the day. By dinner, you were slouching into your chicken stew trying to stay awake, your father sat at the head of the fire pit telling tales of the raid he had just come back from.

He spun tales of a new land made of ice and another covered with nothing but tall green trees, he droned on and on about trades and raids and other such viking things- “Daughter!” His voice cuts through your thoughts and you straighten, looking at him, “Yes father?” He huffed, “We were talking about your marriage.” Your gut, sank and you swallowed, slowly nodding.

“I met a jarl on my adventures, a fine raider, he is John Price.” You nod again, the ravens’ cursed song ringing in your ears “Bind thyself to the draugr…” “I will not force you to wed him, but you will meet with him. He governs his villages not far from ours.”

“Alright…” your voice is shaky, like a trembling leaf, so you clear your throat and clearer, say “Alright, give me two days before we leave,” two days, one to visit the Völva of your village and one to recover from her seid. You needed clearer answers, not cryptic advice from your dreams. If this really were to happen and happen this quickly, then you need to be prepared while you can still object from the wedding.

"...to deny him will spell doom for us all.”

***

That night as you help your family clean up dinner, you move sluggishly; struggling to keep your eyes open as you scrape scraps of food into the compost. Your mother watches you closely, frown deepening everytime you begin to nod off.

"You haven't been sleeping lately." She remarks, gathering the chickens into the coupe. You have never told her about your dreams, it seemed like a natural instinct to hide this part of you, granted, your visions have never plagued you in this way before.

You sigh, turning to look at her, "I've been having nightmares."

"About?" You don't know what to tell her. "Oh just about this murderous monster I'm supposed to marry because the All-Father said so otherwise I'm dooming everyone somehow." Now that would make you sound like a madwoman. You need to keep the answer simple.

That night your mother gives you a horn of chamomile tea and you sip it gratefully, but you know as you rinse the horn and you know as you prepare for sleep and you know as you finally fall into the dregs of unconsciousness that the tea won't help.

"It's the same one most nights," the truth, "I appear in the middle of the village naked and everyone notices except me until the end of the dream." A lie, but your mother's face breaks into a smile, "Really?" You nod, "I'm going to the völva tomorrow to seek answers, such a ridiculous dream shouldn't cause as much sleeplessness." Your mother buys your explanation, nodding along, "I've brewed you something for sleep tonight, and I will give you something to trade with the völva tomorrow." You smile in thanks and quickly finish up your evening chores.

-Chapter End-

Translations:

Völva: A Viking seeress, pronounced kinda like:: v-oo-lva

Seid: A ritual performed by Völvas in order to commune with the gods, see the future, and make prophecies. Pronounced kinda like:: "seed"

Draugr: Undead guardians of tombs, a mix of a zombie and ghost. Pronounced kinda like:: dr-ow-grr or dr-ah-grr

Brokkr: Norse Dwarf God of Blacksmithing, means "he who works with metal fragments"

Valkyrie: Norse warrior goddesses that chose who died in battle and led them to Valhalla (afterlife for warriors)

A/N Yay! Chapter One finished!!! What do you guys think? Also, how the hell do people add moodboards and headers on their blog posts cuz I wanna do that but have no clue. Anywaysssss blessed be!

Taglist:: @dravenskye

[apanthropydotorg]

The Top 25 Metal Albums of 1986

Disclaimer: Please don’t unleash years of suppressed anger and throw a hot cup of coffee in your dog’s face if you don’t see (insert name of band) at (insert position) or any such situation. This feature is based on the opinions of an author that writes, primarily, based on experiences and makes no claims that the collection of releases you’re going to be reading about is certified by God,…