home rules + guidelines

Running a tired hand through his hair, Sunggyu almost wished he’d never encountered that demon last year.  He’d been perfectly content with his lifestyle until then. …though maybe perfectly was a slight overstatement.  As was content.  But he’d been complacent, and having a routine in such an unpredictable lifestyle was better than endless questioning.  Or so he wanted to believe.  Sunggyu didn’t like admitting that a monster had sent him down an existential crisi

They call it a game, and Mihwa supposed that was true enough, if games were meant to have no winners no matter how well they played.  The goal was to reach the center of the Labyrinth, to reach the innermost chamber.  What then?  Congratulations, you didn’t perish wandering the snaky halls, only to come face to face with the unknown.  If there truly was a prize, there was still a slim chance for escape, a chance none have thus far claimed.  More likely there was nothing but a mockery of hop

“Simple, isn’t it?” Junae could only gawk—Sungyeol had the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah, real simple,” she incredulously agreed, “Just like the fairytales say, three dangerous trials and a cursed princess to rescue, no big deal.” All she wanted to do was go home, but that was apparently too much to ask. Sungyeol awkwardly cleared his throat, attempting an uneasy smile when Junae glanced sharply up at him. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve got your first test cover

Myungsoo received his first camera when he was eight.  It was the old film camera his parents would bring along every family vacation to take pictures with, large and heavy in his small hands.  Eager to capture anything and everything that caught his interest, Myungsoo never went anywhere without his camera.  He shot with enthusiasm, and swiftly ran through rolls and rolls of film.  More often than not, however, his pictures proved blurry once developed.  The camera had been too slow to cap

“We’ve known each other how long?” Sungyeol interrupted, “Shouldn’t you trust my judgment?” “It’s them I don’t trust,” Namjoo hissed, wringing the hem of her shirt between her fingers to hide the frustrated tremors.  “You don’t find this suspicious at all?” He pursed his lips in a tight line, stark and thin like the one upon which he’d sign his consent and allow the government to make a human lab rat of him—Namjoo clenched her jaw in response.  She recogn

“Why are you anxious when you’ve been surrounded by the Craft since birth?” “I…”  Yeonji hesitated, staring intently at her grandmother’s withered face for any signs of unease.  “Isn’t it what killed umma?”  The flickering candlelight threw shadows across the old woman’s solemn features, seemingly etching her wrinkles deeper into her age-lined skin—but maybe that was simply Yeonji’s imagination playing tricks on her.   “Magic is only scary to those who d

‘You’re dragging snow in!’ Sungjong halfheartedly chastised.  It wasn’t like she’d actually hear him, though there was a vague sense of satisfaction when Chunhee glanced behind her, noted the melting puddle, and cursed as she hastily kicked off her boots.  He watched her grab the broom by the doorway and begin to sweep the remaining ice out the door, muttering under her breath, and chuckled when she nearly slipped. Chunhee’s head snapped up.  She blinked at her surroundings in surp

She should be happy, Soojin supposed—no more walls kept her from the outside world, kept her from seeking what she’d lost, what she’d long since yearned for.   “You’re awake.”   Almost.