Pirates of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (Kratos Reader)

Hit the seas!

The waves crashed against the creaking hull, the gentle rocking swaying Jack and (Y/n) as they slept soundly. They were subsequently kicked off their hammocks.

"Show a leg, sailors!" A voice commanded.

"Aye, sir." Jack said before he caught what came out of his mouth. "Wait, what?" He said as (Y/n) rubbed his head, and shook off the sleep. He and Jack were moved towards a straight line, mops in hand, closer to the back of the ship's brig. "There's been a horrible mistake..." Jack tried to explain.

"Keep moving." Said a voice. It was the man from the pub, the mandolin player.

"We're not supposed to be here." (Y/n) said, trying to explain his and Jack's situation.

"Many a man's woken up at sea, no idea what, when, wherefore or why. No memory of the night afore, whence he signed up and drank away all his bonus money." The mandolin player said, as he and the other two men walked closer near the back.

"No, no, no. You don't understand, mate. We're Captain Jack Sparrow and (Y/n), The Ghost of Sparta. The originals. The only." Jack tried to fixate.

"Scrum, and the pleasure's all mine. Now keep moving." The man, Scrum, said. As the group made it finally to the back of the ship, they began to swab the ground, cleaning and scrubbing the wooden planks. Jack looked behind (Y/n), and saw a humongous glass coffin.

"Scrum." He said, nodding to the man, drawing him closer so he could have a word. "Why is there a glass coffin?" he asked.

"Do I look like a man in charge?" Scrum replied.

"Where are we?" (Y/n) said, grabbing Scrum by the shoulder.

"'Scuse me, Captain Sparrow and (Y/n), sirs. I be right honored to welcome you aboard our world-renowned vessel of infamy, Queen Anne's Revenge." Scrum said, with a warm grin on his face. (Y/n) released him, and looked at Jack, as they both conveyed the same emotions; shock and fear.

"Blackbeard." They chorused.

* * *

"Work!" Said the Gunner, whipping (Y/n) across his back, though the wound healed as soon as it was formed. He, Jack and other unfortunate crew-mates scrubbed the deck with small hand-brushes and soapy water.

"He's a curious one..." Jack said, eyeing the Gunner.

"He's been zombiefied." Scrum said.

"Eh?" Jack questioned.

"Zombified." (Y/n) said, helping Jack understand.

"Blackbeard's doing. All the officers are the same. Makes 'em more compliant." Scrum said before the Gunner whipped (Y/n) along his back again with a shout, before (Y/n) ripped the whip out of the Gunner's hand, and threw it off deck, into the sea. The Gunner pulled out a larger, chained whip this time, and whacked (Y/n) across the back of his legs. The wound healed instantly.

"Goddamn, I get it!" He said, as he returned to scrubbing.

"And perpetually ill-tempered." Jack said, before the Gunner eyed him.

"Come on, then. Scrub." Scrum said, as the three continued to scrub the deck.

* * *

"Five days underway, at least." Jack said as the crew hoisted some ropes upward.

"Aye, you can tell that by the smell of the sea?" Scrum asked.

"Smell of the crew." (Y/n) said, cringing and turning away from a rather foul-smelling crew member. Jack looked up and saw a man tied to the main mast, seagulls flying near and landing on him.