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divinexchaos22 · 8 months

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Fanfiction Through The Eyes Of Muzan Kibutsuji

Author's note: I wrote this out of boredom and simple curiosity. The concept is simple; in a modern au, how would the King of Demons react to the fandom ships online? Honestly, this is pure, self-indulgent crack. I hope you enjoy it. Ten points to whoever spots the other fandom Easter eggs in here.

It all started the way most wars and conquests began: revenge.

As much as humans likened themselves to virtuous beings of compassion and sincerity, the truth behind their sinful, deceptive nature was all too apparent beneath Muzan Kibutsuji’s apathetic gaze. There were many a times when the King of Demons often pondered about the complex, sinister nature of the human condition as he witnessed the many atrocities of the Land of the Rising Sun and its descendants. From the blood-soaked battles of the Warring States Period to the political strife that led to the Menji Period, the raven-haired male had observed humanity tear itself apart and rebuild itself countless times. Humanity’s thirst for power and control was only elevated by their darker streaks of emotion: anger, lust, envy and greed, resulting in pain, suffering and oppression that only sustained the vicious cycle of destruction and rebirth.

This was partially why he despised humans and desired immortality, disregarding mortals as a lower subspecies not worthy of his attention or respect. However, he hadn’t fully comprehended precisely why he abhorred humanity with such a vengeance.

That is, until he stumbled across that.

Muzan’s lips curled in a snarl of disgust, his revulsion etching deep lines upon his features as he scowled at the very thought of what he decided was humanity’s ultimate and most heinous of crimes. How human beings could even ponder such vile, depraved thoughts was beyond him and he was the ruler of a legion of cannibalistic immortal creatures of the night. However, when the relatively younger of his Upper Moons, Daki and Gyutaro, shed light on the collective thoughts and views found on the internet on the Demonslayer world and pointed out the ‘fanart’ and ‘fanfiction’ created by anonymous humans, he was aghast. Why?

Because humans dared to fucking ‘ship’ him with his Upper Moons, Kagaya Ubuyashiki and even that brat Tanjiro Kamado.

Since when he had gone from being the feared and aloof King of Demons to being a sexual deviant pimp who molested his Upper Moons, possessed carnal feelings of desire towards his most hated enemy and even dabbled in paedophilia on the side, Muzan did not know and did not care. All that he did care about was that he was furious: superbly so. He desired retribution and it would be bloody.

Unfortunately, there was a spanner in the works of his cruel acts of vengeance.

“Muzan-sama, I get that you’re pissed but you can’t go hunting down every crazy fangirl on the internet,” Daki had dryly remarked, the silver-haired beauty having mostly mollified her intense crush upon her Master after moving into the realm of Infinity Castle permanently, although the remnants remained within the permanent heat lingering in her cheeks. That heat, however, quickly abated when her pale eyes glanced at her phone, leaving her wincing when her Pinterest feed revealed rather suggestive art of Douma and Akaza. “Oh God, why? I just saw Douma x Akaza rape fetish art. I need bleach.”

“Wait, WHAT?!” Akaza was suitably mortified and repulsed at this disturbing phenomenon, the fiery-haired demon’s skin blanching as he snatched away Daki's phone as if to verify the authenticity of the image itself. Judging from the manner in which his gilded eyes blanked over and his jaw clenched as he bared his teeth like a rabid wolf, the silver-haired woman’s statement was undeniably true. He looked ready to break the device. “Are you fucking kidding me?! What kind of sicko thinks this?! I’m going to puke.”

“Be glad. At least you haven’t witnessed art of yourself in romantic relations with your brother.” Kokushibo’s tone was flat and emotionless, his six eyes still locked in the thousand-yard-stare it had adopted from the moment morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had asked Gyutaro whom he was ‘shipped’ with. In his defence, the stoic swordsman held up rather well in the beginning, not at all reacting to the lurid pairings of him and Douma, him and Akaza etc. Hell, even the art of him and Muzan didn’t faze Kokushibo. No, it was the plethora of sensual artwork depicting Kokushibo with his brother, Yoriichi, that activated his deep-rooted PTSD and left him paralysed in place.

Gyutaro had spent the last fifteen minutes awkwardly patting his shoulder in sympathy, desperately attempting to assuage whatever traumatic wound had been afflicted on his soul. Fuck, Master Muzan would kill him if he managed to break his strongest Kizuki.

Douma, being Douma, on the other hand, was utterly enjoying every minute of this.

“Ooh, let me see!” The platinum-haired demon crooned, plucking the phone from Akaza’s numb fingers as he merrily scrolled through Pinterest without a care in the world. His opal eyes positively danced with delight as he laughed and offered running commentary on whatever he happened to see. “Akaza, you look so cute with a little collar and bell around your neck. We should get you one. Oh, here’s me and Master Muzan –ooh, Master, I didn’t know you were such a dom. Here’s Akaza and that Flame Hashira –I guess nothing says ‘I want to fuck you’ like a hole in the sternum…”

“Good for you, you're more depraved than Dazai,” Gyutaro confessed blithely, mentally apologizing to the suicidal maniac from an entirely separate fandom.

“Oi, Biwa Woman. If I give you the chance, promise you’ll kill me quick?” Akaza flatly queried, his tone of utmost dire gravity when his attention focused on the sullen and detached Nakime.

"Very well." The Biwa woman never hesitated, her expression as cold as stone as she reverently stroked the strings of her instrument and took Akaza's request in stride as if he had asked about the weather rather than imminent death.

“When will the sun come up so I can die?” Kokushibo asked no one in particular, his gaze still locked on the endless void of crippling pain and suffering.

“…Remind me precisely why I shouldn’t punish these insufferable ‘fangirls’ again?” Muzan enunciated through gritted teeth, the paper-thin threads of his temper drawing tighter by the moment as he grew increasingly closer to snapping. Forget the Blue Spider Lilly, he’d send his demons to devour each and every one of these abhorrent humans who dared to besmirch his name and reputation. The world would be a better place without them.

“Because it would be impossible to track down every single fangirl behind these ships and even if you did, it wouldn’t stop any of it,” Gyutaro enlightened him justly, the acid-green-haired pausing in his half-assed means of reassuring Kokushibo to arch a critical brow at Muzan. He could practically taste the sardonic venom oozing off of his unseemly form as Gyutaro scowled darkly and grimaced. “Besides, everyone in Demonslayer has to deal with these crazy ships. I get shipped with my own sister.”

“Hold your tongue,” Muzan growled menacingly, his tone low and dangerous, his tolerance and patience for this ridiculous situation depleting at astronomical rates.

“Speaking of tongue, Akaza, you sure do like sticking yours out a lot, don’t you?” Douma drawled smugly, his expression utterly devious as he showed Akaza the particular art he was viewing. It featured a rather lewd sketch of Akaza’s face covered in–

“I SWEAR TO MUZAN, I WILL END YOU DOUMA!”

“Look, if you really want to get revenge, why not try writing some fanfiction of your own, Master?” Daki suggested caustically, watching on indifferently as Akaza proceeded to lunge at a gleefully laughing Douma, earnestly attempting to kick the latter's head off. Having successfully regained her phone in the process, her glass-green gaze refocused on the screen and narrowed at whatever inappropriate artwork Douma had been scrutinizing. “Jeez, I’m going to have to scrub my eyeballs to get rid of that image. Anyway, like I was saying, if fans want to make you the pimp daddy of Infinity Castle–”

“I never want to hear those words out of your mouth again.” Muzan didn’t miss a beat.

Daki continued without hesitation, “—then why not make revenge fanfiction? If you want to make Kagaya Ubuyashiki the sultan of his own harem.”

“Or make Yoriichi an immortal sex addict with a brother fetish,” Gyutaro suggested darkly, his expression not at all a jest as he was obviously still repulsed by the implied incest between him and his sister and seeking an outlet for his frustration. When Kokushibo shivered violently at the mention of his brother's name, Gyutaro huffed and proceeded absently increase the volume his shoulder pats, his tone as dry as sawdust. “It’s okay. Your brother is dead and he died in the funniest way possible. You'll be fine.”

“It’s all entirely up to you,” Daki finished with a half-smile, completely ignoring the fact that her brother just chalked the number One Upper Moon’s trauma up to funny karma. Instead, she logged onto some fantasy game she enjoyed playing. Her face lit up immediately. “Hey, I got a summoning ticket! Let’s try a yolo roll.”

“Pray to Muzan that you don't fucking get a CE," Gyutaro muttered bitterly, his rugged features pinched with inexpressible chagrin as he gave up on consoling Upper Moon One entirely. At this point, Kokushibo’s head was flat on the table as he grumbled indistinguishably to himself.

Now, Muzan was no fool. He was well aware that this entire concept was expressed as a means of a joke, so to speak. It was entirely facetious simply because the very concept of a Demon King lowering himself to write petty fanfiction as vengeance was improbable. Nevertheless…

“Fanfiction, hmm?” Muzan mused to himself, not at all paying heed to the fact that Akaza was presently attempting to murder Douma in the background (“Take that, you bastard!” “Ooh, hit me baby one more time!” “STOP ENJOYING THIS ALREADY!”) and Kokushibo was in the midst of an existential crisis. This was how the first seeds of discord were sown into Muzan Kibutsuji’s mind, unravelling into sinister plot of vengeance.

This marked the beginning of the popular fanfiction phenomena that was: Fifty Shades of the Demonslayer Corps…

In the Demonslayer Corps, there were many obstacles you had to face and overcome. It was part and parcel of what shaped each one of them into the fierce fighters they were, hardening and strengthening their bonds and souls like the folded steel of a katana.

When they trained: they trained themselves to death. Therefore, after dealing with Rengoku-san putting him through ‘warm-up’ endurance exercises from Hell for the past two hours, needless to say, Tanjiro was not in the best of moods.

Then Zenitsu had to make it worst.

“Tanjiro! It got updated again! I wonder what this chapter is about.” Zenitsu was all but bubbling with excitement, the blonde boy practically frying Tanjiro’s braincells with the sheer number of sparkles he exuded as he waited for the chapter to load on his laptop. Tanjiro understood that some people enjoyed reading fanfiction and he had to admit that there were some works that were really intriguing and well written. He found the fiction describing his and Nezuko’s role reversal being particularly moving.

However, the good always comes with the bad and when it came to the specific fiction Zenitsu was hooked on, it fell straight into the latter.

Sighing aloud, the russet-haired rookie demonslayer winced as he approached Zenitsu, absently massaging the back of his neck as he grimaced at his friend. “Honestly, Zenitsu, I don’t understand how you read this stuff.”

“Well, excuse you. Fifty Shades of Demonslayer Corps is a work of art meant for mature audiences… Besides, I love how Dark Lord made Uzui gay for Rengoku-san. It’s hilarious,” Zenitsu snickered beneath his breath, reaping far too much enjoyment from the suffering of his fellow corps members. Then again, Zenitsu did laugh so hard that he fell off his chair when Dark Lord (the author of the aforementioned popular fanfiction) posted a chapter featuring an Inosuke, Sanemi and Tomioka threesome. Tanjiro had to prevent Shinezagawa and Inosuke from smashing the laptop and poor Tomioka-san was depressed for an entire week.

After several similar incidents –namely, the crossdressing Master, Shinobu the naughty nurse and Mitsuri the dominatrix –that resulted in many near-death experiences, Tanjiro had taken a decided stance against this fanfiction. However, didn’t deter Zenitsu from reading it.

“Look, I get that you find this funny. But stories like these can be very insensitive to the people they’re written about,” Tanjiro explained as he began reading over his exuberant companion’s shoulder. “It’s completely twisted and makes everyone in the Demonslayer Corps out to be sadistic deviants who– Wait, is that smut of Nezuko and I?! DID THEY MAKE ME OUT TO HAVE A SISTER FETISH?!”

He was appalled. No, he was sickened to the very fibre of his being. How could anyone think of something so, so demented?! Nezuko was his sister. She was practically a child and people actually liked this… Oh God, no, he was going to be sick.

“EHHHH?! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING. HOW DO I REPORT THIS?!”

Tanjiro desperately began scrolling through to find the report tab, determined to make this author pay somehow. Unfortunately, in his rush to seek retribution, he didn’t notice the way Zenitsu had fallen deadly quiet. At least, not until the air began to pulse and crackle with electricity.

Uh oh.

“Uhh, Zenitsu?” Tanjiro began.

“Tanjiro…have you been doing these things to my precious Nezuko?” Zenitsu’s voice was deadly calm, the deadly calm before the most vicious of storms.

“W-what?! Zenitsu, of course not! Nezuko is my sister! I would never –”

“Thunder Breathing: First Form.”

“ZENITSU, WAIT!”

“Muzan-sama, don’t you think this has gone far enough?” Kokushibo asked, half-exasperated, half-resigned to his words not being heeded as he observed his Master post the latest chapter of his popular fanfiction. If anything, he had to admit that he was impressed that Muzan managed to create such a wildly successful story as revenge for the traumatic fiction they had encountered previously. However, the Kamado sibling incest hit a bit too close to home for him (after his own traumatic experience with sibling incest fanfiction).

Muzan sipped his tea with an expression of utter satisfaction. He could cause chaos for the Demonslayers without even stepping a foot out of his office. It was a win-win for him.

“I regret nothing.”