#chapter 16

Chapters: 16/? Fandom: Project Hail Mary (2026), Iron Lung (2026) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Ryland Grace & Rocky, The Convict | Simon (Iron Lung) & Ryland Grace, The Convict | Simon (Iron Lung)/Ryland Grace Characters: Rocky (Project Hail Mary), Adrian (Project Hail Mary), The Convict | Simon (Iron Lung), Ryland Grace Additional Tags: BloodyMary, Time Travel Fix-It, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, I am just drowning in this ship heh Summary:

Ok SO! This has been in my inbox for a few weeks and I thought it was just one person and they’d realize sooner or later. Then there were some RC comments, then some RC discussions in the comments... Apparently RC has been the subject of some debate for listmakers (COLONs?).

It’s just RASHYCOCK! Sorry to disappoint! but I can see why people are confused. Chapters 15-16 spoilers:

There's so much good panel work in this chapter it was hard to settle on one of them. But this one has Tsubame being a total bitch and a solid music shoutout so let's rock! Hibari is futzing with the album Tin Drum by a UK band named Japan. Would have been very new when this chapter was originally released. New Wave like most of Hibari's music, actually think about how hip she'd be to be getting a British album only a few months old at this point in the 80s. This one's all about the fallout from Yakkun's proposal. Starting with everyone else treating it like a big joke or maybe a chance to force Hibari to "admit she's really a boy" or something but the stakes are pretty fucked. Yakkun's a creepy 28yo with a daddy who outranks Mr. Oozora in the underworld. Sure it's goofy but the chapter makes it clear he's comparing her to a better version of a love doll.

It's kinda fucked up honestly. Girl's clearly worried about this from every panel we see her in but the whole family's just having a grand ol time. In a time period you might still see some arranged marriages too there's a pretty cool point on display. How many daughters in Japanese history (or really most of the world to varying degrees) have had this type of moment? Family cheering because you got a marriage offer that's great on paper for everyone but you.

We also get a really sweet moment though. This isn't silly antics, we don't even really see the heartfelt conversation implied because it might spoil the fun. A writing technique I dunno, you may recognize for some reason if you're here reading this. Hibari's asking Kohsaku to say they're already engaged. I really do think that expression says a lot more than teasing out the scene could. Little moments like this give Hibari a real depth, make you wonder if that detached confidence is a front. A...mask dare I say?

Of course, this will lead to Kohsaku being threatened by thugs from the other Yakuza family. And he stands his ground. Kanojo ni, Naru hi does this as a serious romance but the best part about the pair's dynamic is that Kohsaku is consistently a pretty good dude in his own right when it matters. The couple working together are cool as hell. We should do that one down the line, it's short enough. Still a steady hand in the boxing club. Actually pretty chill about living with four girls. Never a little creep. Like, these weren't teen punks they send after him.

It's nice to pull out the Shojo Beat volumes when I do have them for chapters. The red/blue ink is a neat touch. As we move on from our last visit we're opening up the idea Hagu's uneasy being on her own. She has been living with Ayu but she's out tending to her liquor store-owning family that sound kinda rad. So we get something of a subversion of what you'd expect out of college hijinks manga when Yuta goes over.

AO3

“She is ours?” Faith asks about Julia. She hasn't taken her eyes off of her since their papa led them into the room where her mama and the baby lay.

Jamie's throat fills tight as he answers. “Aye. Julia is your sister.”

Fergus holds back, fearing harming the tiny baby but his sister moves to her Mama's side. 

“Mama, may I touch her?” She holds the baby's eyes as she asks. 

Claire meets her husband ‘s eyes. They both reflect the joy they are feeling. 

“Of course.” 

Faith gently touches the baby's hand. Julia ‘s hand fists around her big sister ‘s finger.

“She’s got me!” Her bright eyes look at Claire.

“Yes, I pray she always does.” She knows she won't understand what she is saying now but hopes she will in time.

“Come Fergus. Come see her.” He can't resist her excitement and moves to her side. 

“Oh, she looks like you, mama, outside her hair.”

“Yes. You all do.”

His finger reaches out, stroking her hair. 

“So soft. Hello Julia. I am your big brother, Fergus.” 

She moves her eyes towards them, recognizing his voice.

“She knows me!”

The Beginning: Part 1

Being whisked into a world like this one should've been the perfect scenario for a maladaptive dreamer like you. You held no fond memories of grade school, and you hated university. But the wonder of a new environment, free housing and food, and living with pretty faces was just about enough to help you get over another year of schooling. Unfortunately, the same factors never made up for the homesickness or how awful you've been treated throughout your time in Devildom the same way it did studying. By the end of the first month, you were ready to go back to your normal life, even though it meant taxes and all.

In another life, I would've loved doing laundry and taxes with you.

It probably made humans foolish to them. But next to extraordinary beings with otherworldly powers and capabilities, mundaneness couldn't be any more human, and you wanted to feel that again. To feel humane. Human. To live what was your right.

Boom!

You crawled out from underneath the table. "I told you that was the wrong ingredient."

Despite the mush all over his face and upper body, he still mumbled audibly through it. "…the only thing you've said these days."

And you still don't fucking listen anyway.

Perhaps because he knew you were already punished with having to go back to potions another time to finish the in-class assignment (by yourself most likely too), you didn't have to sit through Lucifer reaming Mammon for another class catastrophe this week. You followed your schedule per usual, being babysat by the usual brothers who had the same classes as you. It was suffocating, and awkward at first, but you always found solace in your own space. Even though if they were uncomfortable, it wasn't your business if they didn't spell it out loud. And you weren't going to be the one to make amends this time.

Dearest!

Shut up.

You weren't going to do the work for them any more.

Honey…?

Shut up.

You were finally going to put your foot on the ground.

At what cost? Your life?

"Sweetheart-"

Your teeth gritted. "What."

Asmo pouted. "Geez. Don't take it out on me if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed." You crossed your arms before he could loop his around yours. The hurt was nothing but a flicker across his face. "Besides, you haven't said a word again today! I thought we were making progress this year."

"If there's nothing for me to say, then why would I say anything?"

"The other buffoons could use that advice," said Satan. Your mouth fought itself cracking into a smile when you looked at Satan's face.

If things were like they used to be, you would've added your own snide remark alongside Satan. You wondered if he felt the absence of your camaraderie.

"At least I have something to say. Nothing useful ever comes out of Thing 1 and Thing 2. Food and drool is the only thing in and out of Beel and Belphie."

"Lucifer's the real problem."

"Well, that's a convenient window for you."

Listening in on Satan and Asmo's conversation was usually the least painful. At most, names of other demons you could never familiarize were thrown left and right. Their attempts at providing context was appreciated after it became more consistent, but it just never stuck to you. You supposed that it never will, and you were okay with that.

"Up bap bap bap," tweeted Asmo. Too comfortably, he grabbed your wrist and twirled you around until you landed clumsily in his arms. "You're always escaping to your room these days! Why don't we freshen up and take a trip to Majolish tonight?"

You would've pushed him away regardless, but it should've been paired with some other subtle behavior to show endearment. You neither rolled your eyes or poorly hid your smile this time.

"Didn't we go last week?"

"We're going again for the new fashion line! They always come out with something every week, remember?"

Did you and the other me go every weekend after school too?

"Oh right."

It was times like these where you just didn't want to go, and normally, that was more than enough for the important people in your life. But these were demons, not people. If there was something they wanted, they were gonna go for it, and they were going to go for it until they could have it.

Was it their nature? Or were they never going to care about you in a way that costed them their own agencies and desires? Because at the end of the day, was it you or what you did for them? Was it you or what you represented for them—their therapist, a second chance, her replacement?

Was it going to be you or her at the end of the day?

It was her. It was always going to be her.

"-and then we can go to that late night spa again, finally get our very much needed manicures, and-"

"Enough," sighed Satan. "They clearly don't want to go. Take the hint already."

"They can speak for themselves, thank you very much!" He cupped your face, forcing you too look up at him. Your breath hitched, but he likely mistook it for something else. "I mean, doesn't it sound so darling dear to-"

"Eugh- get a room."

"Zip it- wha- hey!"

You slipped out of Asmo's grasps and naturally took Satan's side. It didn't last long though. "I'm gonna go to my room now." Asmo opened his mouth. "And I'll be staying home for the night. Sorry." You ignored the demon's fussing behind you, as well as his older brother's grumbling for him to shut up. You greeted Levi as you passed him, but nothing more than that. You felt another snap of irritation when you heard the sulking now mixed with the rest of the noises.

"Of course Asmo gets to hold you and talk to you however he wants obviously you weren't gonna say anything more than a 'hey.' I mean that's all a nasty otaku like me deserves-"

"I told you to give it a rest-"

"I have been! We haven't gone out in weeks!"

"You can survive."

"-but nooooo when Mammon gets all sad and sulky he gets the full package I mean he's technically the first, which he never shuts up about-"

It was times like this that you didn't mind them for the eccentric characters that they were. Nowadays, you wished nothing more than for them to shut the fuck up.

Hate festered inside your chest, and it was infectious. It didn't matter that everything you're reading about them is all between the lines and that you haven't given any of them a chance to fully explain their perspectives and feelings. They didn't reach out to you, and if there was something more unbearable than seeing them act like nothing happened every day, it was the idea that they would finally figure out that something was wrong and try to talk to you. Maybe it was immature, but you didn't care. Resentment brewed after seven months of centering your time and energy around their feelings. It was also cowardly, to run away when things got hard and too personal, but you didn't care for that either.

If anything, it was better this way.

If you dropped all preconceived notions of your relationships with them, then they didn't owe you anything. And therefore, you no longer owed them anything as well.

And now, that was all you could ask for because there was only five months left. Five more months until you can return home and be in control of your own life. Five more months until you can see your true family and friends, ones that weren't twisted into being loyal and loving you. Five more months and everything will be back to normal.

"Five more months…five more months…"

You muttered to yourself, slumped against your door once you made it inside of your room.

Five more months and you'd never have to see any of them ever again.

-

You woke up clawing your neck, your back and forehead drowned in cold sweat, your throat raspy and burning from the tortured gasps coming in and out of your body. Your vision was spotted with dots and black spots, with the only indication that there was light in the room coming from the fireplace far away. You started coughing at some point once the air came in too fast, leaving you disoriented, hot and cold, your chest heaving and hurting.

You rolled out of your bed and landed on the floor with a thud. You don't know when, but your nails were clawing at the polished wood. Somehow, the tips of your fingers burned, but whilst grounding yourself, you found it easier to return your sanity when you had this sensation to hold on to. A sensation that you could control.

Throat feeling dry almost like something had torn it apart you meandered out of your room, trying not to feel nauseous at the sudden drop of temperature outside of your room. You didn't know what time it was, but you doubted anyone would be awake at this hour. The common offenders were unlikely to bother you either, one usually to busy downing the fridge and the other hugging the coffee machine like it was his lifeline.

You predicted right when you heard the familiar rummaging of the fridge. Quietly, you hopped onto the counter to look for your usual glass. You were almost successful in minding your business while drinking water, but you ended up coughing after drinking too fast. The kitchen returned to its pin-drop silence, and a giant with orange hair popped up from behind the fridge door.

Beel mumbled your name through a mouthful of food. "You're awake."

Nice observation, genius.

"Yeah."

"Were you staying up late again?"

"No. Woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."

"Oh."

The trick with this one was to avoid his eyes. Most other demons would never believe it, but Beel wasn't as hard to read if he wanted to be. Specifically when he was upset, when his eyebrows would furrow and there was a slight pout to his usual downturned lips. Sometimes, you'd think his eyes looked a little watery, too.

You were drying the cup and were ready to jump back on the counter.

"I can do it for you."

Hm. Normally, he would've slipped the glass out of your hands and done it anyway, muttering about how it wasn't safe or that Lucifer hated you climbing on things.

"It's fine."

You do it anyway under his watchful eye, jumping off with the slap of your feet landing on the kitchen tiles. You notice his fingers twitch at the sound, but he didn't move otherwise. If anything, you were surprised he didn't still have anything to munch on throughout this empty exchange.

"You had a nightmare."

No questions, no uncertainty. For once.

"Yeah."

You've witnessed Beel's lack of confidence, whether in his actions or in his face as his thoughts processed. It was amusing at first before you realized he was so often stunted by it. Whether gated by the guilt from the war, choosing Belphie, being defined by his gluttony—you couldn't help but feel for the guy.

But now, even though it had nothing to do with you, watching him nagged you. Your resentment leeched, fed on anything that could fuel its existence.

Tentatively, he reached for your hands, and with silent permission, he lifted it up to inspect them. You were distracted by his thumb caressing the back of your hand but still wondered if he was looking so closely to distract himself from the more obvious marks on your neck.

"I fell off my bed and woke up that way. Must've hit the ground a lot harder than I thought."

The usual storm was crossing Beel's face again. You should've pulled away. If you weren't going to offer them their so-desired solace or the clarity that could've opened so many more opportunities, you shouldn't be indulging them in any manner either.

"…can I kiss them?"

The embarrassment bloomed on his face soon after his mumble. A snort escaped you, and you couldn't help looking up. You finally realized what how your fingers looked, especially after the numbing cold from washing a single cup. Cold and hot were always extreme in Devildom, but you're starting to notice your body adjusting over time.

The human body really was amazing.

Too bad it wasn't enough.

You nodded smally. It wasn't much of a kiss as it was a press against his lips, and he held it there longer than a second called for. You tapped on his lip with one of your fingers, opening his eyes. Sometimes, it was easy because the pink in his eyes was a tad stronger than his twin's. It was better to notice that bright hue first. They remained ever so endearing and deep, something to lose yourself into. Not eyes that lazily bore into your soul.

Naturally, you started tugging at your hand. There would've been a time when you'd softly cradle his face instead, sweetly rub your thumb on his cheek as he leaned into it like a puppy. But when he let go, your hand returned to your side, distant compared to the hurt so clear on his face.

"Get some good rest, Beel. Don't wanna be locked out for that game tomorrow."

"Will you be there?"

Hope colored his voice.

You swallowed your unease.

"I'm meeting up with Solomon for an assignment. I'm sure someone will send a video."

You bid him goodnight before you could disappoint him any further. You used to go to his games then. You probably did in this life as well considering that he asked. But you couldn't imagine being surrounded by that mass of demons. Couldn't imagine either you or the brothers would survive the ordeal together with your crossed arms and avoidant gaze. It was times like these that you wondered if your detachment was too fast, too harsh.

You always reached the same conclusion though. You didn't care. How could you give if there was nothing left to give? How many more times were you going to put them first?

Choose yourself.

You couldn't remember who passed that on to you.

Did they exist in this timeline?

Would you find them when you come back?

Will you make it back?

You weren't going to spell it out loud. And if you did, they couldn't—shouldn't do anything about it. Not if they reallly cared about you.

At what cost are you going to test that though?

-

You heard your name at the right time.

They were loud. Someone was arguing with someone else. One started throwing shots at the other for no reason. Beel was scarfing down food as always, but you could feel the ravenousness of his chewing seats away from you as if his teeth were on your skin. None of them ever knew how to shut up. Not even the ones you thought you could trust to stay out of it.

You remembered nights at your apartment with your measly dinner. Or during the weekends at your parents, silently eating while everyone had their own screen. You remembered going out with friends to too many places with no financial responsibility. Places like those had background noise that was too loud sometimes, but you found comfort being among your own, with your close ones.

This wasn't your comfort. This was chaos that brewed all kinds of trouble for you.

You missed your friends complaining to you about the same thing for the third time. You missed your parents that never talked to you enough to understand you, but all of you drew together for a meal every time. You missed the lonely but still nights, where distance created enough fondness in your heart to reach for your close ones again.

You wanted none of this.

Five more months. Five more months.

It was almost as if he sensed the words on the tip of your tongue that he called you to talk in his study before school started. You followed him, with both dread in the form of a heavy heart and nervousness forming sweat on your palms. But once he closed the door behind you and the sharp, wooden smell enveloped you, you felt at ease despite your discomfort.

Silence.

You always expected him to say something, but Lucifer intervened a lot earlier than you'd expected. Before you started anything actually.

"How have you been adjusting so far?"

It took you a second to click in your head, and you let him see your thought process.

Are you okay?

You didn't know whether you appreciated or wanted to mock Lucifer's roundabout ways. The closest you've ever gotten to an honest conversation with him was that day. And even then, that was what you remembered from the other timeline. Who knew what the you in this timeline managed to say to Lucifer that got his pact mark on your neck.

His was one of the few that were in the same place as last time.

"Fine. Something wrong?"

I wanna go home.

"Not that I know of so far."

"Then what do you know so far?"

Cheeky. Even with Lucifer and his Luciferian ways, you knew he wanted to sigh, make a wrinkle between those perfect eyebrows. But for now, all you got were dark eyes that bore into yours, and as stubborn as you are, you wouldn't deny that meekness growing the longer you held his gaze.

That meekness grew when he replied, "You can't keep avoiding everyone. Unfortunately, credit where credit is due, my brothers aren't completely dimwitted. And we can't fix what's wrong if we aren't allowed to know what the problem is."

Oh, of course. He calls it for what it is without the in-betweens, the implications, the reality where it wasn't all because of her. all of them. him.

Always playing the game like it was chess and a loss is only a piece thrown to the side. Not a real life human life would never apply to them they would never care enough it'd do you good to remember that, not your life. A means to the most efficient end.

You exhaled deeply through your nose. "If it's something wrong with me, then why is it any of your business?" Before he could come up with anything, "Besides, my grades are fine. I haven't been involved in an alteracation with another demon student since two weeks ago." Before you were done in by his brother. "And even better, Lord Diavolo seemed to have a great time with our discussion earlier today." God, you hated that being.

How much was he narrowing his eyes if you could see it from here? "Yes. I've noticed. But that doesn't have anything to do with avoiding them."

You shrugged. "You've known them longer than I have. They're a distracting bunch, and frankly, it's not like it hasn't been a busy week for me."

"Does that mean there's nothing wrong between you and Belphegor?"

Rat-fucking bastard.

The venom sat at the edge of your throat, ready to be spat out boiling with vitrol.

"There's nothing between me and him."

Though it had been 7 months, you could proudly admit to yourself that you could read Lucifer. At least, the best that anyone can considering who he was and how long it's been. He might have been God's Fallen Angel, The Morning Star, The Lucifer, but he was also any other burnt out, eldest sibling who loved his adorable brothers more than he could ever show it. It was times like that that fooled you into thinking there was any way you could learn to co-exist with them. Not just in terms of being alive next to them, but to co-exist on the closest thing you could've to equal terms with them.

Then, there were times where you can see it, get lost in the dark depths of those boring, black eyes. Those old, tired eyes of a soul that had existed for more centuries than you could ever relive through their sister. The character was still there, but with depths no one with your life span could sincerely understand.

"Fine." He breathed it like you were exhausting him. "You've made your point. You're still meeting the status quo," your status quo, "and Lord Diavolo has reported nothing but good news." He gets up, and you try not to tense, and you hate that he knows that, too, when he places his hand on your shoulder. "While they have been complaining frequently about your behavior, I won't intervene in your personal relationships with my brothers." He didn't pause between his sentences, but you were ready to hear some poorly veiled threat especially following the squeeze on your shoulder. "But if you believe them to be causing you any problems, you can let me know, and I'll deal with them accordingly."

What the hell are you now? A drill sergeant?

Better yet, what was going on between the you of this universe and this Lucifer?

You weren't stupid or hurt enough not to see the point of his conversation. Somehow, in his own overbearing, ambiguous way, he did care. And it made your fingers go cold when you realized that he was respecting your space.

He wasn't going to intervene.

For now.

You wondered if you had acted worse, if you acted the way you really wanted to, that that would've pushed him to do more than hold you in a conversation. Maybe if you'd felt safer, you would've taken this light slap on the wrist and gone your way. But you felt weaker and colder as you made your way to your room. What happens when he decides he's had enough and he'd finally dealt his real hand once he thought you were settled in the trap of complacency? What happens when you're forced to confront the demons that wronged you and bend to them?

Fuck I want to go home.

You thought that as you left the dorm's doors and out in the bright night, indicative of what was supposed to be day time here in Devildom.