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Yoongi was almost choking on the air around him, the magic so thick that he could barely breathe, overwhelming every sense, invading his whole body. There was a trail through Seoul, the scent getting stronger and stronger the more Yoongi followed the golden tendrils he could see in the air thanks to the tracking enchantment he had cast back in his hotel room. It had been instinct to seek the source when he had first rushed to his window after the brief whiff of magic which evolved into the overpowering presence he was following, but now he was getting closer he was realising he might be out of his league.
All of his centuries of sorcery had never prepared him for the spells he could barely distinguish, magic older than he was, older than his mentor had been, and he also couldn’t identify the other underlying element, something even more ancient, even more alien. He only had his satchel with him, the brown leather having been a gift from his mother when he first left home, the woman long dead by now, almost two hundred years passed. It had been all he had had in the hotel room, other than the body he had left in the middle of the floor, barely having a chance to consume the energy from the woman’s soul before he was leaving in a hurry, casting a hasty spell to make everyone ignore his presence.
He almost felt bad, knowing someone out of the hotel staff was going to come in to clean and find a corpse, but by now it was routine, needing at least a single soul per month to keep himself alive. It was the secret to old age, taking life from others, but by now the guilt had faded, letting Yoongi bask in the satisfaction of feeling full rather than the lingering thought of the person he had killed. Even so, he was just one person, and the trail he was following either led to someone as old as the Earth or a larger group of people who lived as he did, him practically able to taste the enchantments and bewitchments in the air, the pure supernatural power. In the back of his head, Yoongi knew that none of the spells or enchantments he had in his artillery would be enough to combat whatever it was he was about to find at the end of his path, but the curiosity in his mind was ignoring that for now, focused on finding answers.
Seoul was a towering city, a place Yoongi would rather avoid, feeling more at home somewhere less busy and noisy and crowded, normally sticking to the countryside, the cottage he owned further down south in the country. The issue with immortality was that to avoid suspicion he had to keep moving, and so the city was where he was stuck for a while, although he wasn’t regretting the decision now with his discovery. Winding roads with bustling streets made him want to just chant a spell and clear the way for himself, but there were too many people for him to make forget it, and so he had to deal with avoiding colliding with shoulders and bumping into other people who were in a hurry. Night was slowly falling, and with that came young people going out for the evening, workers returning home, rush hour in full swing and making sparks fly from Yoongi’s fingers in annoyance.
He hadn’t struggled controlling his magic for years, but the desperation that was pulling his heart towards the most concentrated point of the aura was making him lose his head, prompting him to take a breath to steel himself. It would be silly for him to race to somewhere that could be dangerous, even if it was in the middle of Seoul, and so as soon as he broke free onto a quieter road he took a moment to close his eyes, to inhale and exhale calmly, bringing one hand up to his chest to clutch at one of his necklaces. They all had a purpose, and the amulet on the lowest hanging leather band was to calm him down, something gifted to him by his mentor the day he left the other’s service, anxiety always having been one of his worst enemies. The intricate lines and small emeralds in the bronze held energy that lasted for over a millennia, and Yoongi felt his heart slowing as the amulet glowed a dim green.
Whatever it was he was following, it didn’t seem to be moving, and so Yoongi forced his mind to calm down, forced himself to keep his wits, there being no point getting drunk on the magic in the air and then being killed by something far more powerful than he was. It had been decades since he felt so much power around him, and his body’s reaction was understandable, but he couldn’t let that get away from what he was doing. Caution was one of the first things you were taught as the apprentice to a sorcerer, and Yoongi wasn’t about to forget the lessons he had lived by for almost five lifetimes, not even for something as remarkable as the waves of bewitched energy making the air as thick and sweet as honey.
Once his fingers had stopped letting out the unwanted sparks and tendrils that shimmered like polished gold, Yoongi let his hand fall from his necklace, straightening his brown bag across his shoulder that contained the majority of his worldly belongings. The books and vials of materials barely weighed a thing when the satchel was enchanted to hold as much as a small room with the pull of a sack of feathers, something that was fortunate now more so than any other time when the magic around him was almost making Yoongi feel fatigued, the effect that a warm summer’s day had on a content cat, the effect of a warm cooked meal on a full stomach.
Gathering his thoughts and tying them down in his head to keep them still, he set off again, eyes darting around the street he was now wandering down, less people rushing down the pavements once he was off of the main street, most the shops to his sides having shut for the night. It was only the occasional restaurant and supermarket that still had their lights on and people inside, and Yoongi found it much easier to seek out his goal when he didn’t have to dodge and weave around annoying people in his way. His search was directing him down another road, and suddenly the buildings were starting to decrease in frequency, a sound starting to rise into the air from before him.
It was a distant chanting, and for a moment Yoongi almost stopped, thinking that the energy was coming from a large scale summoning or something else of the sort, until he heard the music, realising that it was the sound of people singing that he could hear. He himself hadn’t been good at keeping up with modern music, keeping to the instruments he had at home, not having the time or interest to investigate common media in the last few decades, which meant he couldn’t name the song even if he tried. Looking around, he tried to find a sign, or a banner, and walking a few more minutes forward towards the concert venue he finally set his eyes on a poster that had emerged from behind a concrete pillar, prompting him to wander closer to the page to see if anything could clue him into finding what he was looking for.
When he could finally make out the words, he read the words written in a bold font at the top of the page, Bangtan Sonyeondan. Below it was an image, six figures seated at a long dinner table, surrounded by rich foods and wearing clothing that looked to cost more money than Yoongi had ever had himself, hair perfectly styled and faces lacking any blemish of any sort. They must have been the musicians that were responsible for the melody faintly flowing through the air along with the scent that Yoongi was following, and a thought came to his head that maybe someone had come to curse them, celebrities often a good target for the supernatural with the wealth they had that you could steal once they were deceased. Individuals with a following also tended to have sweeter souls, holding an important place in so many people’s hearts, and Yoongi would be tempted to taste one of the people in the poster himself if it wasn’t for the difficulty it would be to persuade people across the globe that they had mysteriously died.
The air was practically seeping with magic now he was outside the venue, and even though Yoongi tended to avoid gatherings of people as large as the one he could hear, he was still curious of where exactly the source was. Someone powerful enough to target a popular celebrity would be much older than Yoongi was, and much stronger, and he couldn’t help but want to get a glimpse of someone with such power if he could manage it. There was a risk of the supernatural being trying to attack him, especially if they feared that Yoongi was trying to steal some of the prey they had sought out, but the urge in his chest to find the thing he had been searching for over the last few hours was much larger than the warning bells that were trying to tell him to flee.
The lobby of the concert venue was almost abandoned, everybody probably watching the show, and there were just a few employees that were standing next to one of the doorways in the room, identical to others further in each direction, far away enough that Yoongi paid them no mind. It was probably the way to the performance area for the audience, and if he was to find who he was looking for then it would be the way he would have to go. The white lights on the ceiling were almost painfully artificial, and made Yoongi blink a few times to get used to how bright they were compared to the night sky outside, pausing in the entrance to the lobby as he thought of how he was going to approach the situation. Really, he would have preferred to avoid using his magic in case he needed as much of it as he could spare once he found the source he was looking for, but it seemed unavoidable if he wanted to continue his search, not possessing a ticket or anything that would help him through.
With a small sigh, he walked towards the other doorway where the workers were standing, two on either side and one just a few metres away looking through a pile of objects on a table, what Yoongi presumed were confiscated items from people in the concert area. They didn’t look too bothered at his appearance, two of the employees finishing their conversation with one another before they even spared him a single glance, and so Yoongi felt no guilt as he raised his hand once he was close enough, swiping it through the air towards the trio, making them fall to the ground in a graceless movement. They were only unconscious, and he crouched at each of their heads to rest a palm on their brows, making them forget he was even there in the first place, whispering into their ears that they wouldn’t even remember waking up from their current state, wouldn’t remember a single thing of the last and next few minutes.
Magic was a useful tool, but it could be easily exhausted if the caster isn’t careful, and so Yoongi wasted no more time where someone else might come along, instead found the pile of wristbands showing admittance to the concert and fastening one around his own wrist. He was just about to continue down the hallway past the door when he set eyes on the sign indicating that bags his size weren’t allowed, and with a huff he took off his satchel to enchant it to a smaller size, looping it around his belt before he started to wander away from the trio that would be waking up in probably less than a minute. It was best to stick to short casts of that sort, them taking less energy and being more reliable in terms of a complete recovery, and as much as he wasn’t bothered by it he preferred not to kill people when he hadn’t been tracking them for a while, families and friends too difficult to find and enchant.
As Yoongi walked down the hallway, keeping his eyes peeled just in case the thing he was sensing sensed him in return, the energy in the air just got stronger and stronger, and it was a miracle that there weren’t hundreds of people like him being attracted to such a beacon of power. Whoever was causing the flow of magic wasn’t exactly being subtle, and he couldn’t think of how he would possibly find them if the whole venue was so saturated with the scent, the pure aura of enchantment, it filling all his senses and just making him dizzy. It was lucky that he had drawn his written spells onto his skin that morning, the deep black lines preventing him from being affected by the magic more than the impact of the presence of it in the first place, sure that otherwise he would probably have something bad happen if he was bewitched by whatever was the cause.
The voices got louder and louder the further down the hall he went, soon matching the magic in potency, and eventually the narrow corridor was opening up to an ending, flashing lights and deafening cheers coming from where the walls fell away. All he had to do was flash his wristband to one of the workers who gave him a nod, and then he was through to the main part of the venue, going from being encased in dark to the epicentre of the performance. Yoongi hadn’t been to a modern concert before, had been to a few clubs and seen performers there but never something this big, and as soon as he stepped out of the hall all his senses were completely overwhelmed by the sounds, the sights, the heat he could feel from the bodies all standing so close, all trying to get the best view.
It took a moment for him to get used to everything, but as soon as Yoongi got used to the sensations around him he focused, looking into the audience on either side to try and even get an idea of who he could be seeking. The magic was so strong that he couldn’t even sense a direction to start in, and he almost felt a hopeless feeling fall over his shoulders until he turned and caught sight of one of the large screens, the face that were projected there. The camera seemed to be rotating between the different people, and Yoongi recognised them as four of the six musicians from the picture outside, but it wasn’t that that caught his attention to the point where he was staring without blinking for a single second.
What had caught him off guard was the way the voices in the air seemed to almost glow, a shimmering aura pouring from their mouths like smoke, every time they sang, every time they exhaled. It was a combination of purple and blue that flowed from between their lips, golden accents joining the air, and Yoongi realised his mistake as he watched one of the faces look over the crowd, knowing that these people who were performing were the source of the magic, not anybody in the audience. It made him draw closer, wanting a better look at the people he had found, wanting to know what exactly they were, what they were doing, and he climbed down the steps that brought him closer, enchanting his wristband to show the colour needed for the section below him as an employee looked in his direction.
The song was a love song, words singing of features of a face, dimples, and Yoongi knew that there was magic in the sounds, the air telling him, the people in the audiences’ expressions telling him. It was a certain glaze over the eyes, the way movements were slow and lethargic that gave away how the concert-goers were under a spell, paying attention to nothing but the performers on the screens, on the stage in front of them that Yoongi could now see, drawing closer with every step. He was trying to see if he could determine the identity of the people, what they might be when their magic looked different to Yoongi’s own, but he could tell that the song they were singing wasn’t a full enchantment, only tinted with hidden additional pulses of power. A full spell was much stronger, and the audience would have a much more extreme reaction if they were really being bewitched, something Yoongi knew from his own experience when he sometimes played his instruments to catch prey.
Once he was as close as he could go without having to join the people with seats on the ground, he narrowed his eyes to really catch sight of the people singing, the quartet dancing along with their silken words on the large stage. They all wore shirts of black with occasional white details, black trousers and shoes, and all had a perfect appearance despite their constant movement when performing, smooth shifting of limbs and their bodies making them look almost boneless. As Yoongi watched, one of the men smiled at the camera of the screen with a smirk, and he could almost swear that the teeth had been sharper than normal, but he dismissed it as a trick of the light, knowing his mind was overly paranoid. He had never found beings with such teeth so far into a city like Seoul, and it was easier to dismiss the image he saw than to think of what it could mean.
He had to admit that the people singing the song were nothing less than stunning, perfect features on perfect faces, and Yoongi could understand why these sorts of celebrities were worshipped like they were gods among men, why they were held so high above the rest of the population. They were each alluring in their own manner, the one with the dark purple hair handsome in appearance, one with brown hair and a dappled shirt beautiful, brown hair and a black shirt seductive while the last with black hair was attractive, every word similar in meaning and yet different in practice. Each made Yoongi want to come closer and closer, partially due to sheer appeal and partially due to the magic in the air, and he never realised how much he had missed having a romantic partner when he imagined himself beside any of the figures he was watching, the way they moved, their charming smiles.
The song came to an end, the four breathing heavily as the camera caught the perfect angle of all of the figures together, and the lights dipped low to hide them from view, only dark silhouettes able to be seen as they moved across the stage with a telling confidence. This was something they had done plenty of times before, the quartet splitting to go to different ends of the venue, sure in their fast paced footing as they took a position on the stage, another two figures rising from the darkness to join them. Six were now on the long stage, and Yoongi put two and two together to know that it was the other two figures from the poster, the ones that had been missing in the previous song.
The lights stayed low for a few seconds longer, making Yoongi’s heart race in anticipation as he waited to see what would happen next, and once he realised he had the cover of darkness he took the opportunity to quickly climb over the railing that separated the row of seats he was in from the floor. Once he was over, Yoongi let himself drop to the ground, light on his feet as he quickly moved to join the end of the closest seats, fingers sparking as he enchanted the people around him to think he had been there the whole time. Wristband to a different colour, and Yoongi let himself face the stage again as the music started up, and with the first notes he almost fell onto the plastic chair behind him.
This song was different, something he was able to notice just a second in, the tsunami of magic that came from the speakers almost knocking him off balance, the pulse so strong it caught him off guard. If the last song had been just a taste then this was a three course meal, and Yoongi could tell from the get go that this wasn’t just a random song, that the notes were chosen and enchanted with care to have this exact effect on an audience when live. The lights went up, and Yoongi almost froze, staring at the trio on the stage closest to where he was, eyes stuck on the figures as his heart almost stopped beating.
The newest addition looked human enough; almost ordinary discounting the pale purple aura that almost encased the air around his body like a bubble, shifting as he swayed from side to side with the beat. This was a sorcerer, someone like Yoongi, he could tell from the lines on his arms he could see when the glamour that had been used to change his appearance glitched, something Yoongi knew the audience wouldn’t see when the music’s enchantment was so strong, something a camera wouldn’t pick up. The patterns were familiar, Yoongi recognising them as resistance charms and talismans to prevent them being affected by the magic they were using themselves, the same ones he had all up his own arms and chest.
The other two figures were the ones he was more surprised by, and he almost felt panic brewing in his stomach as he watched human appearances glitch in and out of focus, probably placed there by the sorcerer they had, acting up now that the magic was being directed elsewhere in the music they were playing. Dark eyes turned a glowing blue, teeth as sharp as knives, sharper than Yoongi had thought he had caught a glimpse of before, dark marks on skin in thin, detailed lines. The two singers were unmistakably sirens, Yoongi recognising them from the textbooks he used to study, the diagrams in the books he carried with him as he travelled across Korea. The creatures were different from how humans wrote them as, neither half fish or half bird, something more fae than anything else, and Yoongi knew that this was dangerous business.
Catching a glance across the stage, he could see that the other trio was made of the same proportions, the newcomer a sorcerer, the two singers sirens, and Yoongi hesitated for the first time that evening in his search, not quite knowing what he should do. If it had only been sorcerers, he might have stuck around, seen if he could talk to them after the show somehow after they recognised his own magic presence, but the reveal of the sirens threw him off, him never having interacted with their kind before. It was an unknown element, and Yoongi didn’t normally like to stray into the grey area of his knowledge, nerves and anxiety never letting him get this far, but now there was curiosity burning in his gut just as badly as there had been when he first sensed the powerful energy in the evening air.
With so much magic pouring off of the other six figures, it was unlikely that Yoongi had been detected in the audience, and even if they did smell him it would be difficult to pinpoint his position around so many people. It was one of the first times he had ever been thankful for a crowd, normally hating being surrounded by people but this time thanking whatever higher power that would listen, not quite knowing how the six musicians would react to his presence in what was distinctly marked as their territory, at least temporarily while the concert went on. Most sorcerers and other supernatural beings that Yoongi interacted with were nice, polite, but there were a few that would try and kill him on first sight, and it was daunting to not know what type these people in front of him were.
With the introduction of the song coming to an end, Yoongi quickly looked down at his arms to check his markings were still in perfect condition, making sure none of the black lines he had drawn on a few days before had been broken in any way. He had read about sirens, all his books telling of their alluring voices and deadly character, the way they enchanted their prey to not even realise they were going to be killed until right at the very last second, when it was too late. The last thing Yoongi needed was to die of carelessness, and so he checked his protective markings were all in place, letting out a sigh of relief once he assured himself they were all intact, the first singer’s voice coming in just a second later.
“It’s bad so it’s better,” came the first voice, and Yoongi couldn’t help but admire how the siren was leaning into his microphone stand as though it was another body, pressing close enough to make Yoongi feel hot under the collar of his own loose shirt. “You know on the inside,” he crooned, and it was as though the words themselves were floating in the air, swirling all around the concert venue in a purple and golden smoke.
The man was attractive; there was no need for an enchanting voice and bewitching words to know that, olive hands gripping a microphone while dark eyes peered into the audience, occasionally flicking to a glowing blue. Yoongi wouldn’t have been surprised if his singing had had the same affect on the audience without the added magic which was pulling everyone into a trance, like a snake charmer and their flute, causing the audience to sway and move exactly how they want them to. It was the voice paired with the music and the hypnotising lights on the screens hanging above them that had thrust everyone under a spell, everyone but Yoongi.
“You can’t stop it now,” he continued to sing, and Yoongi couldn’t help but compare the lyrics of the song to the situation, almost smirking at how people had probably overlooked how accurate the words were when the song was released. “So be honest with me.”
“Stop,” came a new voice, and Yoongi looked to see that it was one of the sorcerers, and he was curious to see what they would do to the music, whether their job was just to produce a glamour or whether it was something more.
It was untraditional to perform magic to music, at least where Yoongi was from, but that wasn’t to say that it wasn’t possible. He already knew that some people used harps, some used fiddles, but often spells had to be so finely tuned when using music that they became weaker with an added element. If these sorcerers were able to use the music to their advantage then they had mastered an art that everyone else Yoongi had met had struggled with, and he just might have underestimated just how powerful they were. He himself had only recently begun reading about how he might incorporate his piano into his magic, but it seemed this duo of sorcerers might already have perfected it.
“Now stop watching and study for your test,” he seemed to rap, but Yoongi knew that it was just a veiled chant, swapping out the words from mouth while saying the needed ones for the spell in his head, another difficult art that seemed to be flawless. “Your parents and boss hate me,” he seemed to tease, and the lyrics were almost mocking in a way that they weren’t, condescending but comforting at the same time.
“Video clips, pictures, tweets, V app, Bon Voyage, I know, you can’t help what you like,” he continued, and it really was like a double edged sword, the sorcerer just giving a charming smile as he continued his part. “But stop, interpret that music video later,” he said, and Yoongi almost laughed at the irony, the fact that these lyrics were enchanting the fans to do the opposite, one look at the bewitched audience showing that they were focusing on nothing but the six men on the stage in front of them. “You have so many pictures of me in your room anyway,” he smirked, and that confidence almost made Yoongi blush as he watched, the fact that the man knew exactly what these people probably thought about him, every little desire and fantasy.
“It’s not just one hour, it’s a whole year that’ll disappear,” he smiled, and Yoongi almost laughed at the wording again. “So this song is an award I’m giving to you,” he finished, and the final word caused a shift in the energy around them, casting a spell that Yoongi hadn’t identified yet.
A snap of the sorcerer’s fingers, and golden tendrils came from his hand, up into the air above them, spreading out like branches in an ancient tree left to grow for centuries. They stayed in the air for just a moment before they were lowering back down, going out into the audience with intended purpose, one that Yoongi couldn’t quite decide on yet. He was finding it difficult to focus, especially when the next siren began to sing, drawing his attention away and back to the handsome singer with the purple hair.
“You’re not being punished,” the siren promised, and Yoongi watched as the golden tendrils seemed to search for people in the audience, weaving in and out of the people enchanted by the man singing.
“Come here, I’m your paradise,” another chimed in, and Yoongi almost couldn’t take the temptation to draw closer, that seeming to be the siren’s intentions in the song, pleading for people to trust him, something so accurate for the spell they were performing over the tens of thousands of people watching.
“Can’t close your eyes,” the two singers echoed from one another, and the words were so painfully true that Yoongi didn’t understand how they hadn’t been discovered as what they were yet, especially if this song was added to an album, performed at every concert.
“You can throw a fit but it’s no use,” the one with the purple hair continued, and a tendril drew close enough to Yoongi to make him hold his breath, not quite knowing what would happen if the people on the stage realised that he hadn’t been enchanted like everyone else.
“Don’t reject me,” the second siren pleaded, and Yoongi knew that these words weren’t just lyrics, knew they were intertwined with spells so powerful that even he was struggling to concentrate with all his own resistance precautions still intact.
“Just close your eyes, tune your ears,” the purple haired man trailed off, and at that moment a tendril landed right on the forehead of one of the people standing near to Yoongi, the tip of the golden shape sinking into skin.
Yoongi watched with an apprehension growing in his stomach at the way this magic seemed alike to his own just on a bigger scale, and now he could recognise the tendrils for what they were, a spell to alter reality, to gain control over someone else. It was difficult to maintain an enchantment of this size, it practically being a more complex version of the one Yoongi used on people like the guards back in the venue lobby, and fear was dripping onto the back of his neck like sweat when he realised just how much power was needed to achieve a spell like this, just how powerful the sorcerer must be.
“Follow the sound of the pipe,” the song continued, this time the fourth siren singing the lines, his voice the highest out of the group but still just as charming. “Follow this song,” he tempted with his mouth pressed up against the microphone, swaying to the beat with perfectly fluid movements. “It’s a bit dangerous but I’m so sweet,” he seemed to promise, and he was fooling everyone but Yoongi with the smile from plump lips, revealing teeth sharp enough to rip through skin like it was paper.
“I’m here to save you,” another joined in, this time the siren that had started the song, dark hair almost falling over his eyes like the curtain a magician used to misdirect attention. “I’m here to ruin you,” he seemed to confess, and Yoongi was almost astounded at how the song had no shame in admitting its intentions in the lyrics, nothing hidden in the words that they were singing, just pure white truths in every sentence. “You called me, see? I’m so sweet, follow the sound of the pipe,” he sang, flashing blue eyes looking into the audience with a look so seductive it made Yoongi’s heart pound.
As the siren finished his words, the other from before leaned back into his microphone, parting his lips and making purple and blue smoke fall out in waves as he began to sing along with the melody, the short high notes almost sounding like an instrument and not a voice to the ear. It was just a second after he started that the golden tendrils in the air leading to various people’s foreheads seemed to pulse, and suddenly the girl Yoongi had been watching before stopped her swaying, eyes suddenly opening on the beat of the song. Where her irises and pupils used to be was now just glowing golden light, and her neck seemed to crane up, looking at the sky instead of the people on stage the masses were fixated on. All the others with the golden tendrils touching them did the same, peering into the night sky of the open ceiling venue, eyes all glowing the same molten gold.
“I’m taking over you,” the first siren sang, and Yoongi was slowly realising just exactly what the lyrics were meaning, not just to enchant the audience but to cast a spell on a select few, and he could probably assume what the sirens were planning to do with their victims. “I’m taking over you.”
After that line, the six musicians were picking their microphones from the stands they had been resting in, wandering slowly in the direction of centre stage instead of the two sides they were separated to. Every movement was oozing with deadly grace, the type that predators had, six panthers stalking down the stage as they surveyed the audience that was completely under their enchantment other than Yoongi. It must have been the biggest rush of power, knowing that you had a whole stadium of people under your thumb, and something about that appealed to Yoongi even when he had never felt the need to cast a spell over so many people in one go, a need that was slowly growing in his chest as he watched the six exchange smiles with one another.
“You know that it’s already begun,” one of the sirens sang, and Yoongi almost fell in love with the deep voice and beautiful face, staring as dark eyes flickered into the hypnotising blue. “The moment you hear that sound,” he seemed to tease, smirking with his razor sharp teeth at a boy with glowing eyes near where he was stood, licking his lips hungrily and confirming Yoongi’s suspicions on the intention of the spell being cast.
“My pipe awakens everything, that sound that burns you up even more,” the other sorcerer began, and Yoongi could see that the method was the same as the last verse, what appeared to be a rap really a chant in disguise, the words all seeping out energy that was making the air even thicker. “You’re pulled by it, you react,” he smirked, Yoongi admiring the way his body seemed to move like he had no bones below his skin, every action just as smooth as the last, as smooth as the spell he was casting. “I’m endlessly blowing, I’m your guilty pleasure,” he boasted with confidence, the spell seeming to be tying itself in a bow as it came to an end. “You can’t escape” he smiled with glee, gold coming from his hands at the last word. “Never.”
The second sorcerer’s spell made the very air in the room vibrate, particles shuddering as the people with the glowing eyes moved, the rest of the people in the venue falling still, as though they had been completely frozen in time. The girl that had been near Yoongi was moving, but the golden tendrils had not retreated from the sky, eyes now closed as she left their row of seats and drew closer to the stage, not making a misstep despite her eyes being hidden from view by her eyelids. It was like they were all sleepwalking, and Yoongi turned his head to see that people from the upper levels were moving too, walking down the stairs and jumping over railings, all never stopping in their direct passage forwards.
One woman didn’t make the landing as she leapt from the metal rail she had to go over, but she didn’t make a sound as she fell awkwardly, instead just standing up again, walking with a limp on a leg that was definitely angled the wrong way, definitely broken in at least one place. The spell must have been insanely strong for someone to still be so bewitched even when they had just broken a limb, and Yoongi watched as she didn’t even open her eyes, just made her way towards the stage without stopping for a second, no hesitation or jolt back into reality, as though it had never happened.
“You’re not being punished,” one of the sirens began to sing again, the part of the song that was the chorus, but now he was singing directly at the gathering of people that was forming at the base of the stage, only parted from them because of the other railing they didn’t seem to have been enchanted to jump over.
“Come here, I’m your paradise,” another sang with a smile, a hand almost reaching forwards into the crowd, the bewitched people’s arms rising as if in response.
“Can’t close your eyes,” was echoed again, and Yoongi almost laughed at the irony that the people’s eyes were closed until he noticed that at some point they had opened again, glazed looks over expressions moulded into permanent states of joy, smiles never faltering and looking like they were wearing masks.
“You can throw a fit but it’s no use,” the smaller one sang with a charming smile, ‘Don’t reject me’ sang by the other before the smaller waved his hand towards the crowd. “Just close your eyes, tune your ears.”
At that, the small audience did as they were directed and closed their unseeing eyes again, starting to sway along with the song like before all in perfect sync, every single body moving in exactly the same way at the same time like an animation. They looked like bodies being carried by waves in a storm, moving like the side to side motion of a hypnotist’s clock, directed by the waving of the shortest siren’s hand, bending to his will like he was the king of the most powerful kingdom on the planet. The other five figures were standing just as close, directing the song in full force towards the people they had picked from the audience, and Yoongi could do nothing but watch as they all seemed to look on with hunger at the people gathered at their feet.
“Follow the sound of the pipe,” the purple haired one began to sing again, and at the line the gathering before them moved, pulling themselves over the metal railing to stand right at the base of the stage. This time, however, there was no grace to the action, the people just getting over as quickly as they could in a desperate stampede, even the woman with the broken leg doing the same. “Follow this song, it’s a little but dangerous but I’m so sweet,” he promised, but now more than ever Yoongi didn’t trust that part of the words which were pouring out of his plump lips.
“I’m here to save you,” another joined, standing close to the one with purple hair and seeming to direct the words to both him and the audience with a smirk, making the other siren laugh, sharp teeth visible in his mouth. “I’m here to ruin you, you called me, see? I’m so sweet,” he made the false promise again, crouching down on the balls of his feet to get even closer to the group of people they had plucked from the stadium and lured to their side. “Follow the sound of the pipe.”
This time once the chorus was done the music fell away into something simpler, and the siren that had first started the song came forwards, looking over their victims with an alluring smile and half-lidded eyes. It was as though his very being was secreting charm, body moving like liquid as he stood at the very edge of the stage, surveying their picks with his glowing eyes. Thighs bulged against black jeans as he crouched down, the rips in the material exposing more olive skin as he leaned over their victims, offering a hand that was close enough to tempt but far away enough to tease.
“Yeah, I’m a little dangerous,” he sang, sharp teeth on show. “I can’t even handle myself,” he continued, and Yoongi knew that the song was coming to an end, the chosen group of the audience so enchanted it would be impossible for them to find themselves again unless the spell was lifted by the casters. “Don’t worry, my hands, they’re only warm for you,” the siren promised, and Yoongi felt like the floor had fallen away from his feet, the man so appealing that he wanted to move forwards and be a part of the crowd, all out of his own choice and not from the intricate spell being performed.
“If I’m ruining you right now,” the shorter began to sing again, and the way he turned up his head to catch the light really made Yoongi’s breath hitch in his throat. “Please forgive me,” the siren mocked with a smirk, and Yoongi wanted to be the one close enough to touch him, close enough to touch any of them. “Because you can’t live without me, because you know all of this,” the siren finished, and suddenly all six of them were turning away from the crowd they had gathered to face the other side of the stage.
The song fell away into just the music and the six began to dance, Yoongi almost hypnotised himself by the movements until he noticed the group of people at the stage moving to one side, towards a door he hadn’t noticed before. He realised that this was the victims being taken away, and without a second thought Yoongi dashed forwards, thankful that the six were dancing whilst facing the other direction, meaning he wasn’t seen as he reached the railing and jumped over the top, trying to reach the group before he was caught out. Even the security guards were bewitched; none moving as Yoongi ran past, finally catching the end of the trail of people before they disappeared into the doorway, probably to never be seen again.
“I’m taking over you,” was sung from behind them, and Yoongi chanced a look over his shoulder to see the six musicians dance, the fluid movements of their hips and hands casting more sparks into the air. “I’m taking over you.”
The song was winding down, and so Yoongi turned back to face in front of him, not knowing where he was going but trusting that the audience knew the way, the staff they passed frozen in place, barely looking as though they were breathing. The six were smart, Yoongi realised, leaving no witnesses, casting a spell so wide that not a single person would remember a thing, at least until Yoongi made his appearance and watched their plan in motion. There wasn’t a single person that was aware of what was happening other than him, and a thought went through his head that the six might not like that, might kill him along with their other victims once they got to where they were going, but he had gone too far to go back now.
It was difficult to tell how long the spell would last, and Yoongi didn’t want to be caught and in trouble for being where he shouldn’t be, his long life requiring for him to be as average as possible in every way so that there was less of him to trace. He wondered about how the six celebrities went under the radar when they were so famous for a moment before he looked forwards and saw that the group of people were entering a new doorway, coming away from the hallway and the prying eyes that could be awoken at any time. There was no saying where it was leading, but Yoongi followed anyway, realising that he really had no choice when the other sorcerer’s magic was unknown to him, not able to say for how much longer the world would stay practically frozen in time for.
He was the last person who entered the room and he let the door fall shut behind him, plunging them into darkness, the only light visible being from the crack of where the door met the floor. It meant that people were probably unlikely to enter if the room looked closed, which was the theory Yoongi made in his head until he heard the door of the room lock, a quiet click coming from behind him. There was nobody closer to the door than he was, so it meant it had either been locked from the outside or by a long lasting spell of some sort that had been set up for this very purpose, and he didn’t know which he preferred to think was the right answer.
Something about the pitch black was unnerving, and Yoongi realised it would probably be better if he wasn’t the first person able to be seen in the room when he was an anomaly in the six musicians’ plan, and so he reached blindly for one of the necklaces around his neck, the one shaped like the sun. He didn’t really want to be using magic when he might need all the power he could summon later, but he pressed that to the back of his mind as he let his fingers spark, the metal of the sun amulet glowing yellow before a dull light of the same colour filled the room. Nobody else would be able to see the light other than him, and so he easily made his way through the group of what he estimated to be around thirty people, wedging himself into a small corner the furthest away from the door, thankful for the fact he wasn’t too tall, that he was skinny enough to press next to the wall between an empty shelving unit that was next to him.
In the distance, he could still hear voices singing and music playing, and for a moment he was sad that he hadn’t stayed to watch the sirens sing and the sorcerers chant for even longer, but he probably wouldn’t have had the chance to sneak backstage after the concert when he saw how many staff were in the building, especially when the other supernatural beings might not even want to talk to him. That was a worry that was bothering him, the fact that he didn’t even know if this was a good idea, whether he had practically handed himself over to be eaten out of his own free will, but he didn’t let himself concentrate on that. Yoongi might be able to summon enough power to make an escape if things go badly, especially if he just waited here and didn’t try anything that could lower his chances.
Time dragged on, and the people around him never moved a muscle, all standing like chess pieces with straight backs and faces only pointing forwards, open eyes which weren’t really seeing anything with the way they were glazed over, never blinking. If it wasn’t for the rising and falling of people’s chests as they breathed then Yoongi would think they were all already dead, but there was the faint sound of inhales and exhales that filled the air with warmth. Now that they were out of the main venue and in an enclosed space, Yoongi finally felt like he could breathe, no longer choking on the sheer strength of the magic in the air. The absence of it almost felt like the crash after a sugar high, and it wouldn’t be good for all his energy to be sapped away from the withdrawal, and so he tried to stay focus on being alert, being ready for anything.
It felt like hours before the music came to a stop, the second time it had happened now, and Yoongi waited just in case it started up again like before, there being a small break before it resumed again for a few more songs. This time, however, it didn’t seem that the concert was going to start again, especially when the sound levels got louder outside the dark room they were in, Yoongi still gripping his sun amulet, the effect of it lasting until he let go. He felt better when he could see all around himself, even if the stationary bodies standing like trees in a forest were daunting, and he almost wished he had worn darker clothing that would help him blend in better.
His trousers were beige, loose on his thin legs, brown boots almost hidden under the ends that trailed to his heels in length, a brown belt holding them on his hips with his shrunken bag attached. The shirt he was wearing had patterns of an array of colours, reds and oranges and navy blues, the hues not bright but still more colourful than Yoongi would have wanted when wearing an entire black outfit would probably be most suited, even his hair tinted a dark red, not even that helping him be more subtle in appearance. It was lucky that the people around him were dressed so brightly that it made him look slightly less noticeable, but even then his clothes were a different style to the t-shirts and jeans everyone else seemed to be wearing, making him look like the odd one out of the line up.
The thought that he could probably cast a spell to darken his clothes was flying through his mind when the door of the room flew open, a light flickering on from the ceiling, and Yoongi cursed the fact he didn’t even notice if the door had been unlocked or not, too caught up in his head. He was the only one in the room sitting, but he was also at the back and couldn’t be seen from the door, and so he didn’t allow himself to jump up which could cause attention to be drawn to him if someone was watching. After all, he already stuck out of the group, and the sirens and sorcerers had been singing directly to the small audience for a good minute, probably would recognise that he hadn’t been there before.
Suddenly, Yoongi felt completely out of his depth, even when the sweet smell that had brought him here in the first place invaded all his senses, and warning bells were going off in his mind. He didn’t quite know what he had been thinking, and now he was going to be killed for his stupidity, something he had hoped to avoid for at least a thousand years or so. There was no way he had magic to match when the two other sorcerers could cast spells he could only dream of, not to mention the four sirens that had their own brand of magic, and he was realising that he might not get out of this situation alive, not when the six beings had looked so hungry. All the worries he had were a little too late, and Yoongi could do nothing as footsteps sounded in the room, the door falling shut again.
“I think that I was a little bit too far to the side in the Black Swan choreography,” a voice was sounding from the other side of the room, other people letting out small hums from the back of their throats.
“I don’t think so, you were in line with me,” someone else added, and Yoongi was trying not to panic when he realised that these people were about to feast on all the people around him and he had nowhere to go.
“Well, we’ll revise the video tomorrow, for now we should get back our strength,” another person reasoned, and Yoongi really felt helpless when he heard footsteps coming closer, approaching the bodies closest to the door. “Let’s divide them up, who wants fist pick?”
There was hysteria mixed in with panicked amusement as the six began to play rock paper scissors for the first choice of victim, and all he could do was wait as the musicians played their deciding game. There was a cheer, and the rest started to groan as someone came out victorious, but Yoongi could barely concentrate when he felt as though his stomach was trying to expel itself through his throat. He didn’t quite understand how this in any way had been a good idea in his mind before, and he was cursing his choices as the people around him moved.
There was a beat of nothing, until he was looking up and meeting eyes directly with one of the sirens who was watching him with a surprised look on his now fully-human features, and Yoongi recognised him as the one with the deep voice and the beautiful face. He didn’t quite know what the correct reaction was, but he doubted that his decision of staying still was very wise, because it gave the siren the opportunity to march forwards, a strong hand gripping his arm and pulling him up from his corner. Yoongi didn’t even have the mind to fight as he was pulled from the group of people and lightly pushed in the direction of the five other people, now surrounded by the musicians, who looked even more god-like away from the stage, appearing far too regal for the plain room they were stood in.
“What’s this?” One of the other sirens seemed to purr, the shorter one with the seductive eyes, and he stepped forward to run his fingers under Yoongi’s chin, the sorcerer too startled to do anything as his head was tilted upwards. “Where did you come from?”
Yoongi’s tongue suddenly felt like the dessert, and he couldn’t speak a single word, not when the siren that had grabbed him first moved even closer to press against one of his sides, another body at his back that must have been the first siren who had sung at the concert since everyone else was in eyeshot. There was heat rushing to his skin, and his head felt as though it was filled with cotton balls, completely overwhelmed by everything around him, barely processing words and images like his mind should do on instinct.
“No need to worry,” the first siren hummed, lips so close to Yoongi’s ear it made him shiver. “This is an easy fix,” he promised, inhaling a breath.
“I hear the far-away ocean, across the dream, over the horizon,” he began to sing, and Yoongi was thankful that he had checked his protection spells were still in place on his skin, knowing that anyone else would be enchanted in an instant. “I’m going to the place that’s getting clearer, take my hands now,” he voice carried on, but they seemed to realise that Yoongi was still aware of his own mind, and another hand grasped at his arm.
This time it was one of the sorcerers, the tall one with the dimples, and he easily pulled up Yoongi’s sleeve with his nimble hands, revealing the dark marks all over his pale skin. If the others hadn’t realised yet then this confirmed that Yoongi wasn’t just one of the human fans, and the other sorcerer let out a small hum, Yoongi’s identity probably answering the questions they had about why he wasn’t being bewitched. As much as Yoongi wanted to concentrate on them, their expressions, it was difficult when there were still three of the sirens pressed so close, the fourth with the purple hair drawing nearer to stand beside the tall sorcerer who was looking over Yoongi’s arm with careful eyes.
“Now what is someone like you doing somewhere like here,” the siren that had first found him asked quietly, hands suddenly appearing on Yoongi’s waist and sliding to hold his hips, making his skin almost glow beneath his clothes. “Huh, little sorcerer?” He seemed to taunt, and it pulled Yoongi back to his senses enough to try and give an answer.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi started quietly, nervously looking at the people around him with wide eyes. “I could feel it in the air and I followed it here, I didn’t mean anything bad,” he promised, and he could see the musicians thinking, furrowed brows and pursed lips.
“You should have been repelled by the charms we cast, not attracted to them,” the second sorcerer voiced, and Yoongi realised why more people like him hadn’t been following the air if there were wards around to stop it. “That fact you’re here makes no sense,” he huffed, the taller sorcerer just watching with a narrowed expression.
It was difficult to tell what they were thinking, other than the confusion at his appearance in the first place. Even though brows were furrowed and frowns were making features appear much harsher than before, there was no saying what they might be planning to do, whether they would let Yoongi go with a warning, whether they would consume him with the rest of their victims, the close quarters giving Yoongi very low chances of escape, especially when three of the sirens were boxing him in, crowding him from every side. Subconsciously his hands had begun to shake, and Yoongi knew the tallest sorcerer could feel it with the way he was holding his wrist, and he just wanted to disappear.
“What’s your name?” The smallest siren asked, the one with his fingers still under Yoongi’s chin, and when he didn’t answer immediately they pressed harder into his flesh. “What do they call you?” He repeated, and Yoongi tried to keep his voice from shaking.
“Yoongi,” he finally supplied as an answer, and the siren in front of him nodded, the tipping of his head causing the light to make him look much more sinister, lessening the press of his fingers under Yoongi’s chin where the tissue was particularly soft, just after his jaw bone.
“Namjoon, you don’t think…” the second sorcerer trailed off, and Yoongi was desperate to know what he was thinking, what the both of them seemed to be thinking if the way they were looking at one another was anything to go by.
The body behind him pressed closer, the siren that had tried to enchant him with more of the silken singing, and a chin was being hooked over his shoulder, hands meeting those of the other siren on his waist, now four sets of fingers bringing heat to the skin of his middle. The free hand of the person holding his chin up also latched onto his body, slightly higher than the others on his waist, and it was causing a blush to come up on Yoongi’s cheeks, feeling entirely surrounded by people who were enthralling even without their magic. It had been so long since Yoongi had had any sort of affection like this, almost a hundred years, and it was making him feel far too warm under his skin, especially when he still didn’t know if he was about to be killed or not.
“Yoongi,” the tallest sorcerer said, as though he was trying to see how the name rolled over his tongue, tilting his head to face Yoongi’s direction again, probably taking in the sight of him being completely overwhelmed by the three people making him feel slightly faint. “My name is Namjoon,” he introduced himself, giving a small smile that made his dimples deepen even more. “This is my coven,” he continued, gesturing to the five other people.
“I’m Hoseok,” the other sorcerer spoke, stepping forwards with a heart shaped smile. “The reason why you found us was because you were meant to be led to us,” he explained, Namjoon nodding along to the words. “I’m sure you’ve heard of destined covens, the groups of people where their souls are intertwined and are always fated to find one another,” he continued, and Yoongi finally felt like everything was making sense.
He could barely think with his senses being overtaken by the three sirens surrounding him, but he could recall his mentor teaching him of destined covens, of how they were rare but possible in existence. There was always a near constant number of sorcerers in the world, always a near constant number of magic users because the main power they have comes from the blessings they receive from a mentor, and a mentor only ever has one apprentice in their lives, sometimes taking thousands of years to find the right person. The blessings were set, and some are more similar than others, which meant that some sorcerers were just complimentary to one another in nature, fated to find one another to make their power even stronger. It explained how the two could do such complicated spells if they were destined to one another, and it explained why Yoongi hadn’t been able to resist their magic, even the magic of the sirens if their lives were closely intertwined with one another.
“Does that mean we’re keeping him?” The siren with the deep voice asked from next to him, still so close to Yoongi’s ear that he shivered again, the shorter siren in front of him smirking at the action.
“Yes, it does,” Namjoon answered, and Yoongi almost protested that it wasn’t his decision to make when the body behind him pressed even closer somehow, there now being no space between their clothes, the one at his side doing the same.
“I’m Seokjin,” the purple haired siren introduced himself, leaning forwards to grasp at Yoongi’s free arm that was hanging at his side, moving to create even more of a wall between Yoongi and the rest of the room. “This is Jimin,” he continued, gesturing to the siren that was slowly moving his fingers from resting under Yoongi’s chin to his neck. “Taehyung is at your side, and Jeongguk is behind you,” he finished, moving to be just as close as the other three sirens, Yoongi having no space to breathe.
“Don’t mind them, they’re just being friendly,” Hoseok commented, but Yoongi couldn’t see him now that he was completely surrounded by the four bodies around him, couldn’t tell if he was joking or being completely serious.
“I’m not trying to be friendly,” Taehyung murmured from behind his ear, and Yoongi’s brain just short circuited, as though all his thoughts had just turned to static.
“Come on,” Namjoon sighed, pulling at Yoongi’s arm that he was still holding, extracting him from the sirens’ grip into his and Hoseok’s. “You eat your meal, let me and Hobi have some time,” he ordered the four, and with a small grumble they all fully let go, turning from Yoongi to the group of people who still hadn’t moved.
As soon as their feast had been mentioned, the sirens’ eyes had started to glow again, and there were sharp teeth peeking out of their lips, looking hungrily at the people waiting like lambs to the slaughter. It was like watching predators hunt, how they each seemed to single out a human they wanted, the democracy of them competing for who got the first kill disappearing once they had had to wait to begin their meal. All Yoongi could do was watch as they seemed to pause on the spot for a second, poised on their toes and crouched slightly lower to the floor. It was only a moment later that Seokjin was the first to move, flinging himself at one of the humans and sinking his teeth directly into their neck, ripping through the flesh like it was wet tissue left out in the rain.
The whole room looked bloody as the other three sirens copied the movement, each pouncing on the human they had chosen, easily biting through skin to make them drop to the floor and then aiming for the chest, using teeth and the sharp nails that had appeared to burrow into the bodies. It was all messy and gruesome, so different from how Yoongi took his own food from humans with a spell, there being no blood in his method, only a cold body left once he was done with no visible wounds. Stealing souls was a different matter to actually eating the body itself, and he didn’t want to watch but couldn’t look away at exactly the same time.
“They feed on sin,” Namjoon spoke from behind him, arms moving to be wrapped around Yoongi’s chest, pulling him back into a strong body. “We use magic to find the most tainted people at each concert, the type that are easy to make disappear because hate is so much easier to erase than love, and we make the world forget they ever existed,” he explained, and Yoongi felt another pair of arms on him, his time Hoseok, hands wrapping around his waist. “They eat the hearts, and then we can have the souls that are left,” the voice quietened into a murmur behind him, and wandering fingers moved from Yoongi’s waist to his bare skin under his shirt.
“Don’t mind us,” Hoseok breathed from his other side. “We’re just enjoying the show,” he promised with a laugh, dragging blunt nails lightly over Yoongi’s ribs, making his whole body violently shudder. “The others will have their fun in a bit, while we eat,” he commented, and Yoongi didn’t quite understand what that meant but he was in no headspace to ask while his brain was only focused on the way his body happily shaped itself to how the two other sorcerers wanted him.
It really was a bloodbath, bodies littering the floor, the room looking like the aftermath of a battle with how people were lying in pools of red liquid. Yoongi was glad that the humans were bewitched up until the moment they died, the situation seeming much more detached when there wasn’t people screaming or struggling to get away as the four sirens descended onto them with their teeth and claws. The long nails must have been part of what was hidden by the glamour the sorcerers placed over the others’ appearances, because they definitely hadn’t been there when the four had let their hands stray all over Yoongi’s middle, Jimin not piercing the skin under his chin when he had been pressing into the flesh.
Once the last body fell to the floor, the four spent a moment a moment licking the blood off their hands, the skin around their mouths absolutely coated with the red liquid, dripping down their chins onto the collars of the white shirts they wore. It should have been horrifying, the sight should have made Yoongi want to run away but all he could do was watch as Jeongguk swiped his palm over his mouth then brought his hand to his mouth to lick a line up the now bloodied palm. That sight paired with the way Namjoon slid one of his hands under Yoongi’s shirt to meet Hoseok’s made something in his chest crack, and he was finding it harder and harder to breathe, the air even thicker than it had been before.
It was Seokjin that moved back to them first, walking with a godly confidence even when the whole bottom half of his face was stained with blood, and he beelined for where Yoongi was standing between Namjoon and Hoseok. The skin on his hands was damp when he raised one to rest it on Yoongi’s neck, and before the connection was made in his head that it was because it was covered in blood, the siren was leaning forwards, getting so close that Yoongi could smell the metal on his face. Barely a second of thought passed before there were lips touching his own, wet with blood but still feeling nothing but perfect.
Seokjin pressed harder, moving his free hand to grasp at Yoongi’s waist with greedy fingers, and he didn’t even notice at first as Hoseok and Namjoon pulled away, leaving him completely in the siren’s grasp. There were now-human teeth biting at his lip, and Seokjin was just taking and taking whatever he wanted from Yoongi without even asking, pressing closer and overtaking every particle in his body. It just felt right when another body was coming up to his side, a hand coming to rest on his cheek and making Seokjin’s lips leave his own, another pair replacing them in an instant.
Yoongi’s eyes fluttered open just a second to see that it was Taehyung he was now kissing, his skin just as covered in blood, and he was much smoother than Seokjin, less demanding but manipulating Yoongi’s body to be how he wanted it to be. The other siren let out a small noise of annoyance before his mouth was back on skin, this time Yoongi’s neck, and another two people were crowding around him with grasping hands, demanding attention. If this was them being ‘friendly’ then Yoongi didn’t know what they thought lust was, but he couldn’t get enough of anything, Jimin pulling him away from Taehyung to have his taste, Jeongguk the last to bite at his lips and smear blood over his pale skin.
“Welcome to our coven,” he whispered in Yoongi’s ear once he broke off from his lips, diving to bite his neck and making Yoongi tilt his head, catching sight over his shoulder of Namjoon and Jimin kissing, the both of them absolutely covered in blood.
Taehyung reclaimed Yoongi’s mouth with a demanding presence, and he lost sight of Hoseok and Seokjin gripping at each other’s hips as the siren bit at the sorcerer’s earlobe, everything just feeling right in being a part of this writhing group people, being surrounded by beings he just fit into the hands of. They were all pressed so close it was like they were going to become one being, melt into a single form, hands everywhere, lips everywhere. There was a whispering voice behind his ear, saying words Yoongi couldn’t focus on when Jeongguk was biting down his neck like he wanted to rip Yoongi apart just like he had his dinner, and something about that thought was enough to make his head fly even higher into the clouds.
“Yoongi,” the voice whispered again, and this time it was closer, practically millimetres away from his ear. “Do you trust me?” Jimin asked, and Yoongi could almost imagine the other’s deadly smirk on his lips as he spoke, Taehyung letting him breathe for a moment by pulling away. “Can I do something that will make you feel really good?” He continued, and Yoongi didn’t even think twice before he was nodding, gasping with his lungs that were trying to protest the action, his whole being just wanting to carry on kissing whoever would do the same with him.
On his acceptance, he felt someone behind him grasp at his arm, and he craned his head to see Namjoon as the owner of the hand gripping his wrist, Seokjin draped over the other’s back as he watched Yoongi with half-lidded eyes. In the sorcerer’s other hand was a stylus, one that Yoongi recognised as a tool he owned just the same, and he knew that from the tip came the black liquid that drew the patterns he had all over his arms, over his chest. He couldn’t quite think of what the taller would do with it until he was dragging the tip of the stylus up Yoongi’s forearm, breaking the protective pattern he had carefully drawn previously.
The thought passed through Yoongi’s mind that this was probably a bad thing to agree to, even if he hadn’t realised it would be this in specific, but as soon as the now broken lines started to fade from his skin he was hit with the waves of magic he had been immune to before. If he thought the air was thick with the enchantment protecting him then this was the air solidifying in his throat, in his lungs, ready to make the perfect sculpture of his insides. Everything was hitting him at once, and it almost made his legs buckle below him, only the hands on his body holding him up and vertical, otherwise he would be flat on the floor and unable to move with the way his head was spinning.
“Trust us,” Hoseok whispered in his ear, and Yoongi was again mindlessly agreeing with whatever he had to say, letting his head fall in little nods as his vision blurred. “All we want is to make you feel good,” he promised, and Yoongi was ready to trust him on anything.
“Tell me with your sweet smile, tell me,” Jimin began to sing, quietly in Yoongi’s ear, and a warmth washed over his mind and made him forget all his worry with the breaking of his spells in the first place. “Tell me like you’re whispering in my ear,” he breathed, and Yoongi could focus on nothing but the sweet voice moving around his head, the touches that were being littered over his body, under his shirt directly on his skin. “Don’t be like a prey, smooth like a, like a snake,” he trailed off before pressing forwards, biting down on Yoongi’s lips as they kissed like Jimin was starving, mouth still tasting like blood.
Now that Jimin was otherwise preoccupied, it was Taehyung that began to sing, crooning into Yoongi’s ear with a voice so deep it would only be found in the darkest ocean, “A sound of something breaking,” the siren began, pulling Yoongi again under a spell that just made him feel bliss, nothing but ecstasy. “I awake from sleep, a sound full of unfamiliarity, try to cover my ears but can’t go to sleep.”
Even though there was the nagging reminder that he could be killed while under one of the siren’s enchantments and never be the wiser in the back of his mind, he found that he couldn’t bring himself to care, instead just trusting the people he felt as though he was fated to find.
It was all too much, far too much, and the moment the sirens stopped singing in his ears he felt as though he had lost all the bones in his body, every muscle limp, not an ounce of strength left. Seokjin was still murmuring words under his breath as he dragged his hands lightly over Yoongi’s ribs, “I want to remain, I want to dream more,” but either his volume was too low or his intentions were lacking because it sounded less like a spell to make Yoongi forget his very name and more like a lullaby. Swaying on his feet in fatigue, he didn’t complain when he found himself leaning completely onto Namjoon’s chest, the taller sorcerer pressing light kisses into his hair as he held him up.
It felt like home despite being such a new and alien sensation, Hoseok gently dabbing at his skin with a piece of fabric to try and clear the blood, everyone’s touches shifting from harsh and greedy that they had been before to soft, loving, each threading now spotless hands though Yoongi’s hair, caressing gentle fingers over his arms, his hips. Occasionally, one of the six would press a short kiss to his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, and there was a candle burning bright in the depths of Yoongi’s chest, a flame that promised to never go out of these people stayed by his side for as long as he lived.
Yoongi could barely pay attention as people moved around the room, the other sorcerers using spells to clean up the blood and the bodies, making them dissolve into a pale dust that was set on fire, burning away the victims that had fed them. It was a beautiful ending, and Seokjin was the one to hold him as they left the room, still singing under his breath the melodies that made Yoongi feel like he was on top of the world, “even so, what I’m saying is, that it’s time to leave.” He didn’t remember much else of the evening, being laid carefully onto the couch in the musician’s dressing room, having people gently change his clothes and wash his body down like he was being baptised.
It wasn’t long before Yoongi asked to add his own words into the spell that the coven had perfected from years and years of use, and with Hoseok and Namjoon’s assistance to amplify his energy he could gather through their bond he could make his own magic so much stronger. After a while, it didn’t take long to convince the world that he had been a part of the group the whole time, the seventh member who was the second oldest, who had known his fellow sorcerers for years and been there every step of the way. It was Jimin that came up with the name he used, murmuring that Yoongi tasted just like sugar, Suga, and that had stuck, everyone agreeing with smirks and giggles when he had tried to protest, kissing the argument away with hungry lips.
It became something he loved, to stand in front of the microphone at the song they waited to perform all evening, illustrating the story of the pied piper with his voice, becoming the very individual that was both the hero and the villain of the story. After every concert there was a feast, and Yoongi let Namjoon and Hoseok strip his defences away, the sirens taking full advantage and keeping Yoongi in a daze as they took whatever they wanted, there never being a protest on Yoongi’s lips. He couldn’t help but smile every time he would chant the lyrics in his rap, exchanging glances with the people he cherished most in the world.
“Maybe I’m a bit dangerous
Like the pied piper
I’m testing you
Like the fruit from the tree of good and evil.”