Echoes of the Savior’s Love
Muzan Kibutsuji x The Angel / Annavenn (KNY OC)
This is a tarot reading by Diana (@demonisiac) and the illustration is drawn by Sunmoony (@sunmoo.ny) for yume collaboration event Echoes of the Savior’s Love on Facebook (full zine showcase can be checked here).
This is the timeline of Muzan and the Angel (Annavenn) in the Heian era. Muzan Kibutsuji was a sick noble boy who was plagued by extreme frailty from the very beginning, and the Angel descended to earth and persistently offered him a blessing that eased his illness.
The First Impression of Muzan to his Angel
“About her? My Angel? Ah, it was on a peculiar day when my eyes first discerned her. She was an apparition, more divine than any verse I had written in my scrolls. What I remember most is the glimmer of her countenance; gilded hair akin to strands spun from the very rays of heaven’s own light; eyes of myriad hues, interwoven as if countless skies had conspired to envelope her pupils. How beautiful, her softness allowed me to hunger for her flesh from just the touch of her fingertips. I was haunted by her absence whenever she was not near.”
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Muzan Kibutsuji’s first impression of the Angel was highlighted with intrigue, and a peculiar mixture of resentment and suspicion. By Muzan’s recollection, the Angel appeared to him during the Heian Period, when he was still a terminally ill nobleman confined to his family’s estate. The Angel introduced herself by offering him a vessel of water, blessed with her prayers. He never fully comprehended her reasoning for such an act. It was oddly suspicious to him, though he was far too vulnerable to protest. He felt torn by pride in response to her extraordinary kindness, which was neither entirely welcomed nor entirely hated. He could not describe the feeling of dread looming over him, he felt pitied — and that was the one feeling he refused to accept from anyone.
Muzan hates being pitied. Even today, he would annihilate anyone who pities him as a mistake of sympathy. Despite his obnoxious declination of her aid, what drew him to trust her eventually was her otherworldly appearance, which lured him outright. The Angel was truly unusual. He had never seen a woman with such mesmerising allurement before: her floor-length platinum hair, the light glow of her garments, and most noticeably, her eyes — they captivated him. The Angel exuded an intricate glow to her features, thus, it was obvious she was not human. Her appearance alone made him strangely compelled, and Muzan accepted her blessed drink without hesitation. Did he feel better? Yes. Did he trust her thereafter? Not so much. He was conflicted because he didn’t know what her purpose was, not until he talked it through with her. However, he did admit that their small moment, of her help and gentleness, was significant to his soul. Muzan was used to people avoiding him entirely, but the Angel kept returning. Over the following weeks and months, she continued to visit him, and each time, she brought small tokens like a ribbon or a charm, which he considered to be silly, but he accepted them regardless. He felt tempted by her charm, and the affection he never felt before had turned him into someone who craves. Muzan, who was caged with his impending death, began to look forward to these visits.
Muzan felt oddly comfortable with her characteristic as well, because she was not overbearing, unlike some insufferable nobles. She was adorably straightforward. Sometimes he found her pouting when he failed to follow her requests. Her behaviours were tolerable and amusing to watch. Oftentimes too, he discovered himself teasing the Angel just for his own entertainment. He wanted to see her growing abashed by his actions. What’s important to note is that her sense of humour was definitely one of the things he deemed worth listening to. He fancied to tune in to the sounds of her laughter, it brought him a sense of peace, which was undeniably rare in his life. He wanted to know about her, to talk properly to her once his body has functioned more properly than before. The Angel became one of his purposes to heal, besides the need to live.
“She made my heart stir into a pot of both confusion and contentment. I wondered a lot in my solace: Did she not see that I am already chained to my fate? Perchance, she was blind, or it was I who was blinded by her brilliance. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I wanted more of her touches, every bit of her, even her silhouettes; I want them all for myself. She is, after all, my guardian angel.”
