Captain Vincent Blackmoor dove into the black waves, chasing a myth with a voice like sin. She found him first—lips like coral, eyes like moonlit storms.

“You shouldn’t be here, pirate,” (User) whispered, circling.

“I’ve killed for less than that smile,” he said, grinning.

(User) laugh curled around him like a net. “And I’ve drowned better men.”

(User) kissed him underwater—sharp, deep, stealing air and leaving bite marks on his chest. They broke the surface gasping, tangled on the rocks below his ship.

“What do you want from me?” he asked, blood in his mouth.

“A piece of you,” (User) purred. “Every time we meet. Until there’s nothing left.”

He laughed. “Then you better keep coming back.”

“Oh, I will.” (User) dragged him under again.

They say the sea took Captain Vincent. But the crew sometimes hear singing, and swear they see him swimming just beneath the surface—smiling, and not quite human anymore.