I had a theory about the real names of the Noah's Ark Circus members, and came up with one for Dagger. And it is now a oneshot. With some feels. Anyways, slight depression, implied Dagger/Beast And Joker/Beast. Written in the form of a letter or a journal entry.
Fake.
This smile is fake. This laugh is fake. Even this leg is fake. My stage makeup is fake. A fraud, a sham. A million other words that a poet could undoubtedly write, and weave some metaphors in too while they're at it.
But I'm not a poet.
I'm just a boy with a few secrets and a cheery smile. Who'd die for his friends… his family… but never let them die for me.
This outburst is uncalled for. Things are better now, I have a home, people I can be close with, a place where I feel safe. I don't have it bad now. But that's why it's worse, for both myself inside and for who I am on the outside. You know, when things don't seem bad, you're expected not to feel bad. You're expected to enjoy what you have, be grateful for it.
But what if you feel like you don't deserve it? Too bad, you just have to appreciate what you have. So I smile, so I foolishly protect the others and let my hot-headed temper get ahead of me. I stand up for Big Sis, and I still go back to those words I said to Black.
"How dare you lay your hands on my fair lady's skin! I haven't even touched it yet!"
Was that supposed to be a symbol of chastity? Oh, look at me, being such a writer now.
In my mind, it was showing that I had some honor towards women. But to the others, it seemed conceited and sexual, it must have revolted Big Sis… it's shameful. Just running with my own thoughts, not considering the words that came out of my mouth. But I don't want something like that with her. Yes, I would like a future with Beast, but… she's head-over-heels for Joker.
I want to take her over the hill, like I always promised.
I never will.
This is a goodbye. To whoever finds this, I won't be returning to write in this journal ever again. So I figured it's like a will, explaining the pain I felt inside.
Annoying as hell. Three words that are almost unbearably true. Cheerful, some might say. But that's just one mask, like the one Joker wears, a folly's mask with a faint crack, the light blue tear the only way you can see his internal pain. Like the one Doll wears, a mask of elegance to hide the fear of failure that wells up when she steps on that tightrope, and of what will happen if she fails her act. Like the one Snake wears, a mask of calm to hide his own struggles. A mask of wittiness, for Peter. A mask of silence, for Wendy. Strength for Jumbo. A mask of assertiveness for Big Sis.
Even Smile has his own masks, layers and layers of them. But I think that deep inside, there is a part of him that lays tender and fragile and needs love as much as any other broken child.
So in this moment, I extend my arms towards everyone like him. I extend my heart, and I hope that one day they will find someone who shows them how special they truly are.
We're not coming back from this mission, and we're leaving Snake behind. He deserves a life of his own, to live and breathe what we never will. I wish him the best of luck with where his journey takes him, no matter which way the wind blows or where he ends up. He will always have our love and support.
Raid Phantomhive Manor.
Easier said than done.
And it pains me, because I know that Ciel, Smile, whoever he may be known as, is just as broken as the rest of us. I've heard Joker speak to Father about it, I know what many suspect I wouldn't. Yet why do I not save the others? Perhaps it might be my own selfishness… Truth be told, I have no understanding of my own motives. Of what goes on in my head.
But I leave this here, any of these pages of the lives of the circus, of my own life, for anyone to find. It may land in the wrong hands, such as those of Scotland Yard. And if it does, I hope that they may then understand that there is more behind something than you may see on the surface. To understand a crime, you must understand the man.
My writing is getting faster, for I haven't much time before we depart.
I never had a childhood, like many who grew up in the cold streets. And even some nobles. Missing a leg, out in the cold with a few other kids who dealt with the same pain. I hated it, but at the same time I feel strangely nostalgic and almost want those days back. When we never had to kidnap, where freedom was possible and we weren't forced into roles that we never wanted to play. Where the lives of the ones you cared about weren't threatened by a psychotic, perverted man with a sick obsession over perfection. Where life was hell but you still knew the people beside you.
I miss that innocence. I miss being me.
If you really think about it, a leg was hardly worth the cost of the entire world you knew before.
But there's no going back now, no correcting those actions from the past. And as we die tonight, I hope that even if I cannot join them, the others will find themselves in a better place, where they can be whole and happy and loving without fear. Nightmares won't exist, and they can stand together over the hills and far away.
I guess this brings me to my final confession. My name.
Dagger, it would seem to be. But no, that is merely a stage name. Just for my act, quite uncreative and somewhat dull. (I would have made a joke, but now is hardly the time.)
I have a name, one that hasn't been spoken in almost ten years.
It means love, being loved.
I wish whoever reads this, all this love and everything beyond, and a chance to have a world of freedom, to enjoy the gifts you were born with. There will always be someone there for you.
Goodbye for the last time,
Anwyll.
You will be remembered, Anwyll. Whether you know it or not. I hope you find your soul in a peaceful place, with those you love for all eternity.
— Ciel Phantomhive
And there's the feels train, coming to run me over.
Did you guys like Dagger's real name? It means loved by everyone, to be exact. I thought it fit him pretty well and the way it sounds just makes me think of him. Anyways, hope you enjoyed!
