mona

Fic writer. Worldbuilder. Obsessive. Dark magic, ancient rites, queer grief, mythic power.

[gwibyeol]

MasterList

“This is not a magic you learn. It is a magic that remembers you.”

A central archive for my illustrated grimoire entries, fanfiction, moodboards, and ancestral magic worldbuilding. Rooted in blood, bone, name, and shadow—this is magic that lingers, whispers, and stains. AO3: gwibyeol on AO3

GRIMOIRE ENTRIES + MAGIC SYSTEM

Intro to The Old Ways — folklore-rooted ancestral magic

Grimoire Entry No. 1: Gravecircle Rite — protection via blood & bone

Grimoire Entry No. 2: Mirrorleaf Infusion - taste your own death

Coming soon: → Starter Spells taught in old families → Forbidden Children’s Rites → Weatherworking and Boneclocking

FANFICTION

a garden of hunger (complete!!)

⤷ Hannibal x Harry Potter crossover, dark folklore, death-as-divinity AO3: Read here ➤ Quote:

“They fed their names to the fire, and rose as something else—neither gods, nor monsters, but myth.”

➤ Tags: #a garden of hunger | #fanfiction | #lady black au

on bonefire and bloodlines (wip!!)

⤷ Harry Potter, old magic and identity and legacy AO3: Read here ➤ Quote:

"She wasn’t unmarked anymore. The blood remembered."

➤ Tags: #on bonefire and bloodlines| #fanfiction | #the old ways

MOODBOARDS

The Old Ways | Ritual Aesthetic

The House of Potter

Peverell Moodboard — coming soon

House of Black Moodboard — coming soon

Lady Black — coming soon

Moodboard tag: #the old ways moodboards

TAG DIRECTORY

#the old ways magic — all lore + ritual worldbuilding

#the old ways grimoire — illustrated spell pages

#ritual fantasy — inspirations, notes, folklore

#old ways family magic — Potter, Black, Peverell lore

“All power is borrowed. And the debt always comes due.”

[gwibyeol]

The gods of the Potters do not demand worship—they demand remembrance. We are their gatekeepers, not their servants. We hold the keys to silence and summoning, to bone and blood, to what was buried and what must never wake.

the house of potter

[gwibyeol]

the way i already have like 30k of a fic ready to be posted but i cant decide if i should finish it and post it all at once or just post it chapter by chapter once a week

[gwibyeol]

like i’m so serious. it’s like money burning a hole in my pocket

[asadstatue]

Will's shy glance, Hannibal's fond smile; what is this if NOT FLIRTING???????

Gay. Sir, you're GAY.

[gwibyeol]

the way i already have like 30k of a fic ready to be posted but i cant decide if i should finish it and post it all at once or just post it chapter by chapter once a week

[gwibyeol]

the old ways - ritual aesthetic

[gwibyeol]

Grimoire Entry No. 2 - Mirrorleaf Infusion

“Drink not to know, but to accept.”

There is a tea known to the Old Ways—one not brewed for comfort or clarity, but for the bitter gift of recognition.

It does not speak in visions. It does not tell you when or how. It lets you feel the shape of your death.

A scent. A sound. The stillness before something ends. And in that knowing, you are never the same.

CLASS: Divination Pillars: Shadow, Bone Use: Personal death-sight (non-fatal) Effect: Recognition of your own death’s signature. Not time. Not cause. Only presence.

YOU WILL NEED:

— Dried mirrorleaf petals (gathered from a grave no newer than ten years) — Well or rainwater, collected beneath a waxing crescent moon — A lock of your own hair — The name of a dead relative, spoken into the steam

RITUAL:

Brew the mirrorleaf in silence. Stir counterclockwise.

Add your hair as the leaves unfurl.

Whisper the name of the dead into the steam—not as summoning, but as witness.

Watch the tea. When your reflection changes, drink.

Say nothing until the cup is empty.

WHAT IT DOES:

You will not see a moment. You will feel it.

A scent you’ve never smelled before. A sound with no source. The sudden, quiet certainty that something is ending.

Some describe lavender in a burning room. Others, thunder in total silence. One saw their own hand brush theirs before no one was there.

PRICE:

One memory will vanish. It will be small. Personal. A candlelit laugh. A name on the wind. The color of a first robe.

You will not know what is gone. But you may miss it.

NOTES:

• Do not brew it cold. • Do not serve it twice. • Some say repeated use draws the attention of the dead. Whether this is metaphor or warning remains unclear.

“The tea does not lie. But it may speak in scent, in shiver, in something left behind.”

[gwibyeol]

Grimoire Entry No. 1 — Gravecircle Rite

“What stood before, stands now.” An ancestral protection spell from the Old Ways.

❖ GRAVECIRCLE RITE

Ward of Blood & Bone Type: Protection / Warding Pillars: Bone, Blood

A common rite among old bloodlines. Not meant to destroy—but to hold, preserve, shield. Used to protect a sacred place, a grieving room, or the threshold of a vulnerable witch.

YOU WILL NEED:

Bone dust of a direct ancestor (matrilineal preferred)

A circle of coarse sea salt

A drop of your own blood

Black thread or hair to tie off the corners

TO PERFORM:

Sweep your circle counterclockwise with salt. Do not break the line.

Comb the bone dust into the salt, weaving it in spirals.

Speak your ancestor’s name aloud three times—slowly.

Let your blood fall into the center of the circle. Whisper:

“What stood before, stands now.”

Tie black thread to the four compass corners—tree root, post, or stone.

EFFECT: A protection ward rises—blood-bound and memory-forged. It lasts seven days unless renewed. Stronger at dusk. Weakest under a new moon. No spell of compulsion, breaking, or fire can pass its edge.

PRICE:

The caster cannot lie while within the circle.

The named ancestor may appear in dreams.

If forgotten, the circle remembers.

[gwibyeol]

Introducing the Old Ways

“Before there were wands, there were names. Before there were spells, there was blood. And before there was Hogwarts, there was the silence between trees—the kind of silence that listens.”

There is a magic that predates the sorting hat. That predates even the Four who built their names into stone and legend.

They do not speak of it in books. But it remembers you.

They call it The Old Ways.

A spell can be a cup of tea, a whisper at a crossroad, the tying of a ribbon soaked in breath and belief. Magic doesn’t come from Latin syllables—it rises from memory, salt, grief, and blood. A grandmother brushing your hair under the new moon. A child burying their name beneath a stone after lying. A drop of your blood on bone dust that belonged to someone who once held you. That is power.

The Old Ways are not clean. They are not taught. They are inherited. Remembered. Sometimes even feared.

You cannot master them. You can only pay their price.

Core Pillars: ☽ Blood – Memory, sacrifice, inheritance ☽ Bone – Death, finality, endurance ☽ Name – Identity, truth, dominion ☽ Shadow – Secrets, the unseen, silence

The Ministry pretends they never existed. Hogwarts forgot them on purpose. But some families remember—Potter. Black. Peverell. And others, nameless in the books but etched in salt and fire.

This is not a story of learning spells. It’s a story of paying attention.

[asadstatue]

"Hannibal broke Will"

EXCUSE ME??? Have you ever heard of the term "serving cunt"?????

[gwibyeol]

“They fed their names to the fire, and rose as something else—neither gods, nor monsters, but myth.”

Dark ritual. Sacred hunger. A bond stitched with silver thread.

Read the full myth:

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64890295