The Bondsman (a King Dice x Reader story)

Chapter Twenty: Endings and Beginnings

Song: How 'bout a Dance (feat. Laura Osnes) from Bonnie & Clyde: The Musical

     Cuphead, Mugman, and (Y/n) Straightway were the heroes of the Inkwell Isles for exactly three days and two nights.

     After that, the Devil's defeat was, to put it simply, old news. He'd jumped back into business, gamblers and fools still piling into the casino one after the other to get their lives snatched and souls entangled into one of his many plots and plans. The Isle had celebrated his defeat, and then they had moved on.

     You and the boys were rather content with that, in all honesty.

     Walking the cups home after the fact had been interesting, to say the least. You'd burnt your contract with a spare match someone out in the casino had, and after that you were scott free. It felt...odd. You really didn't feel all that different, save for the warmth that spread in your chest after your soul was finally pieced back together properly. After that, you'd found the cups and taken them by the hands, exhausted on your trek back to their cottage on Isle One. You were able to take your time now, even stopping by the carnival to play some games and relax a little over some funnel cake as the moon hung high overhead before finally delivering them home.

     The cups' guardian, Elder Kettle, had been overjoyed at your helpful nature, and had assured you that you were always welcome to come to them for help or need of a familiar face. You were touched, smiling wide as you hugged each of the boys goodbye and began your walk back to your apartment.

     That had been two months ago.

     Now, you were beginning to settle into your life out of the Devil's service. You had enough money that you had collected over the years to keep you going until you figured out what you were going to do with yourself. For the longest time, you were sure that you would ditch the Isles given the chance...but something was urging you to stay. Between the boys, your regrets, and a little something else, you just couldn't bring yourself to leave it all behind. Perhaps you'd take up your father's mantle? That seemed like a decent idea, yes? Detective (Y/n) Straightway: PI.

     You liked the sound of that.

     It made you feel like Sam Spade.

     That was a plan and story for another time, however. A glimpse of a future that you weren't quite ready to explore...not yet.

     Instead, you decided to spend most of your nights reading. Reading, sipping tea, and overall just enjoying your newfound freedom. No contracts, no debtors, no guns and powder and souls. Just you, and the storm brewing outside.

     You tossed a glance out your apartment window, the clouds festering in the distance beginning to roll even further inland from the sea. The wind howled from outside, and you could feel the building sway slightly against the wind, rocking you into a sweet trance. Subconsciously, you glanced at the clock hanging on the far wall.

     9:00 PM.

     Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned to look out your window again. This time, however, you didn't focus on the sky. Instead, you cast your gaze down to the street below, littered with passersby trying to keep dry in their hurry to get wherever they were going. Dozens of citizens zipped left and right, laughing and cursing at the rainstorm that had swept in so suddenly.

     All except for one.

     He always made it a point to try and stay out of sight, that familiar purple a mere speck on the street below. He'd stand there for a few minutes, contemplating, and then he'd move on. You'd watch, of course. Unbeknownst to him, you were always aware of his visits; once a week, Thursdays, at 9 o'clock on the dot. He'd stand, he'd contemplate, and then he'd disappear a few yards down into that sneaky little speakeasy, tucked away in the cellar of an old butcher shop.