Mortal coil
by Oneiriad
Disclaimer: PotC and Jack Sparrow does not belong to me. Neither does - well, you'll see, but he definitely does not belong to me.
Author's note: Spoilers for DMC.
He actually liked Jack Sparrow. Truth be told, he liked him quite a lot. He liked his odd, swaying walk, he liked the peculiar way he talked, he liked his love of the ocean and his ship, he liked how he insisted on his title, he liked the taste of rum on his tongue. He liked that he was human and he liked that he was flawed. He liked that he was a challenge.
He had tried to explain all this to the Pelegostos – lovely people, really, and of course it was a rare treat to be treated with the respect and reverence he was due. Even if the people doing the treating were a sad little bunch of cannibals and their opinions about how to treat an actual deity (or as close as to make no never mind) were some rather unfortunate leftovers from the bloody Aztecs. Alas, they were also rather set in their ways and refused to be convinced that any higher being might actually enjoy the challenge posed by this mortal coil.
Which was not to say that this mortal coil was not occasionally too much for his taste. Of course the limitations was the point of the whole thing, but still it got to him – and seemingly petty things, like that bloody undead monkey of Barbossa's, rankled most of all.
And so he had sought out Tia Dalma, and so he had sought out Davy Jones. Which in the end had lead him to the fine mess he was in now.
It was ridiculous, really, because it would have been so very easy to solve every problem he had, so very easy to defeat every enemy. All it would have cost him was Jack Sparrow. Which meant it was not so very easy at all. And while he was very confident and occasionally a braggart, then he never lied to himself – it would be a loss. A disguise simply wouldn't be the same – and besides, sooner or later he would forget the tail. He always did.
So it was with Jack Sparrow's limitations that he tried to solve the problems, tried to fix everything – with Jack Sparrow's bloody slow human brain and all its bloody slow synapses, with Jack Sparrow's bloody human body and its bloody fight-or-flight instincts – while all around him the world spun faster and faster and out of control.
And then they had arrived, one more appealing than the other, and suddenly his body was all hormones and instincts of an altogether different sort. First sweet William, still so achingly earnest. Then dear Lizzie, oh, and how she longed for 'marriage'. And with her, before and after and around her, so deliciously fierce and fine, the former Commodore bloody Norrington, all barely controlled fury and so very appetizing on his knees.
Dammit, how was he supposed to think!
But in the end he couldn't and in the end it didn't matter. In the end he was here and now, the world had ground to a halt, and there was no way humanly possible out of this. Which meant that he had lost his bet with himself, but which also meant, of course, that now all bets were off. Pity nobody had bothered telling the Kraken.
"Hello, beastie."
And Sun Wukong smiled.