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Pessimistic Dreamer - Advanceshipping Pg-13

Discussion in 'Shipping Fics' started by HyperCyber, Oct 8, 2006.

  1. HyperCyber


    To those who don't know me, nice to meet you in this fake cyberworld.
    To those who know me, wassap?

    This is my first advancship fic, I personnaly don't very much like Satoshi and his peronality in the anime. So I made him a little bit (fine, very) OCC. Age: Satoshi - 18, Haruka -18.

    This fic is different from the last one, this is much more serious and dark. it will get shippy later on, but not the fluffy stuff you would normally get. I repeat, this fic is very serious so shippers beware!

    Genere: Angst/Romance
    Rate: Pg - 13

    So... this it! enjoy this chap and R x R. Constructive critisizim graciously accepted, flame or unintelligent posts done by 3 years olds laughed at.

    Pessimistic Dreamer
    By: Patrickstar

    Chapter 1 – Aimless Wonderer

    Anything that happens, happens.

    Anything that happens causes something else to happen.

    And cause something else to happen.

    And something else…

    But all of the things that happened don’t occur in a specific order.


    He is just another fallen man, with his huge yet empty eyes, dark, oily and messy hair which covered half of his scarred face. He wore a dark, ripped shirt and faded blue cargo pants. Everything about him was so plain, obnoxious and uninteresting. He sat at the corner of a small, poorly lighted room, with a bottle of nameless vodka in hand. He looked sadly, hopelessly, and pathetically lonely.

    “This sucks.” He stated simply, in a tone that could make anyone express sympathy.

    Taking another shot at his vodka, the man looked out to the window. It portrayed people running hysterically in the rain. Each with their own destination, each with their own goals, own dreams, own hopes and beliefs. He hated these people, they always reminded him of someone he could, or used to be.

    The grey clouds concreted into densely distributed clusters, taking up the sapphire sky which was meant for the sun to shine, much like his life. The man hated the clouds. He also hated the sun. He hated everyone, everything. He hated the vodka he’s drinking; they poison his mind as well as prohibit him from being normal and healthy. He hated the small, dusty window; it always attracted light from coming in, hurting his dull, empty eyes. He especially hated himself, because it always gave him reasons to hate everything else more fiercely.

    What time is it? He wondered. He gazed lazily at the clock on the wall. He can see the shorter needle positioned it self comfortably between the number five and six. He cannot see clearly where the longer needle was with all the alcohol clouding his mind. It is five… something right now, the man thought. He tried to stand up, yet fell down. Finally deciding to rest, he crawled to his bed and pulled the blanked over his body, knocking over a few empty bottles.


    He did not dream of sorrow, guns, fights, jails or alcohol. He did not dream of broke hearts, dull eyes nor faces covered with tears. He simply dreamt of himself. Simply (what a word) of who he used to be. The young man was handsome, friendly, courageous and optimistic. The man in his dream was so falsely perfect, that he had trouble telling who it was.

    And then it happened.


    He woke up, he just woke up. He did not cry, for tears are seldom these days. He got up and went to the toilet to relieve himself. Satisfied, he sat on his chair, gazing out the window once again. The rain stopped, and sun finally was able to penetrate the clouds.

    Murmuring, he opened another bottle of vodka, in fact, his last one. He did not worry about where or how is he able to get more. He did not live for tomorrow, because he never expect himself to reach there. As long as he is satisfied with his current situation, this clearly is false right now.

    “This really sucks.” He stated once again, except this time with more determination.

    Is this what life meant to be? Drinking and sleeping? Is that his destined fate?

    It does not matter. He decided.

    Why am I alone? Why can’t I live like the others? Am I different?

    I’m not different, only forgotten.

    Was I always like this? If so, then why am I born? Why do I have to suffer? Why am I always tormented? What is the point of living, when the option of death is so much more preferable?

    Confused and angry, he got up, yet was forced to sit down by the forces of gravity and alcohol combined. I shouldn’t get angry. He thought, I shouldn’t get angry with all the wine I drank. Anger, like all the other emotions, is completely useless. How many bottle did I drink today? Three? Four?

    It does not matter.

    Nothing mattered to him anymore. All the inquiry is unnecessary. He is the forgotten. He is the oppressed. He is the fallen. He has no one to blame, he does not need anyone to blame. Maybe this is how it goes; it is all a part of the twisted wheel of fate.

    Defeated, he got up and headed to the general direction of the bed. The bed is always easy; it is especially easy when you are defeated. He does not know how long he could go on living like this, perhaps he will find a solution tomorrow. If not, there is always the next day, then the next day. All he cared about is that he gets his rest right now. He needs much rest for the long, grey and hopeless road of life ahead of him. What happens if he fails to prevail? He does not know, nor cared. All he cared about is that he gets his rest right now.

    He is Satoshi.

    He is truly an aimless wonderer.
    Last edited: Oct 9, 2006
  2. Jemi Rose

    Jemi Rose Thunder Trainer


    Wow, this is fic is really shows that it really is worth reading. I like how you explained Satoshi's tormented/depressed thoughts based on what seems to be that he lost something very important to him.

    I did note a few spelling errors and some in complete (few) sentence. Other than that, it wasn't rushed. This fic seems to show some promising for the future chapters to come its way, so keep writing!

    Until your next update, I'll keep an eye for it! ^^

  3. flygonrulz

    flygonrulz Don't leave me!

    ...Whoa. That's some deep stuff. I can't wait for the shipping but this is good for the darkyness as well. Kinda like the dark bits of Harry potter...or Jane Eyre.
  4. charizard trainer #1

    charizard trainer #1 Ready to lose???

    Impressive description. Nothing happened (plot wise) but it seemed breath taking and thats good writing. And no, i'm not joking. Hm... the advanceshippers seem to be better writers than their counterparts (i'm not an advanceshipper). Keep it up mate!
  5. HyperCyber


    Wow... i didn't expect any feedbacks at all, i thought this forum is mainly infsted with people who just fantisizs over romantic things that would never happen to them in RL.

    Thank you guys for the support. Some of the incomplete sentence are left... imcomplete for the atomosphere. Heh...

    Honestly, when i started this fic, i was expecting tons of flame for being such a b*stard and ruin everyone's sweet fantasy, but thank you guys for making me feel better.

    new chapter will updated soon.
  6. flygonrulz

    flygonrulz Don't leave me!

    Believe me, i'm a shipper and a huge one but I love dark stuff too. And if they're all mixed up then hurah! If it's just dark then hurah again. :D Hope ya finish soon!
  7. Jemi Rose

    Jemi Rose Thunder Trainer

    Yeah, same here. I mean, I love romantic stories, but also dark stories...since they have some type of atmosphere that just gets my attention. Can't wait till you update!

  8. tcane

    tcane Member

    ummmmmmmm...are you sure you don't mean he's an "aimless wanderer"? to wonder is to think hypothetically, to wander is to walk around without anywhere to go. definitions by tcane.
  9. HyperCyber


    thank you for reveiwing.

    to tchane: no, the phrase is created by myself and the exact point of it is to not make sense. what you found is a typo, thanks for pointing it out.

    Anyways, here is the new chapter, it took me a while and sorry for the delay. r x r plz. Constructive critisizum graciously needed. with many thanks.

    Chapter 2

    Nothing is real.

    She cannot take the lies anymore. All of the horrifying truth rushed into her brain, truth which she made millions of vain efforts to block. Yet in the end, al the facts was absorbed unintentionally by her, like water soaking up a sponge.

    Of course, she tried to cover up the truth with reassuring lies, yet it always prevailed. No matter how perfect the façade she designed was, the truth always managed to remain in her heart, like the scratch on one’s back that cannot be reached, yet cannot be ignored.

    However, it was only until recently, she finally gave up.

    She stared. That is the only movement she is capable of doing right now. She couldn’t breath, she couldn’t blink, she couldn’t think. She just stood there, mouth opening by a fraction of an inch. Every once in a while, she would twitch herself – a habitual movement embarked by her brain to see if she was alive.

    He was staring back. Those emeralds eyes, merely inches from her own ones, yet seems light years away. His green hair played on his forehead, creating a peculiar and indescribable sensation.

    She was expecting this.

    She knew.

    She knew long time ago.

    But it still hurts like hell right now. Her heart did not dare to let out any sound; it did not dare to move under the pressure atmosphere around her applied. Her palms are sweaty, her eyes bloodshot. She did not move, she just waited for an answer.

    What answer, if she already knew the very thing he would reply?

    He put his body around her, creating a painfully similar feeling she had before. The feeling was marvelous, like thousands of needles suddenly made themselves known across her back. Her left hand stayed awkwardly by her legs. She tried to shake it lightly, it didn’t respond.

    “I’m sorry, Haruka.” He replied quietly, almost ashamed of his own feeble voice.

    She didn’t reply.

    Yet, suddenly, her heart let out a deafening thump. She began to sweat, and tried to cover the sound that is being expressed through her body internally. Her heart still pumped, and he was so close.

    She was nervous.

    She bit her lip to help her stay still, yet the heart pumped, shaking the very foundation of her own body.

    He gave her one last look. For pity? For sorrow?

    Then he closed the door.

    It wasn't until she finally heard the sound of the door’s lock being completed did she finally realize that she was alone.

    She is tired of it.

    She is tired of all the lies she told, she is tired of all the smiles she gave. Words of congratulations, support during hardships and useless emotions, they are all nothing but painful illusions.

    She is tired of the façade she hide her true self behind, the people, the things, the world. All of them are a part of this twisted grandeur of fate. For what purpose they were created? She does not know, nor cared.

    She always found her, asking herself, what is there to live for?


    There is no point to staying in a world where everything is merely mirages of nothingness. The people she met, the smile she receives, the salutations she give. The envy, the hatred, the love, the emotions. Her self, the society, the world, the universe, the life. All meaningless subjects created for meaningless purposes.

    I’m sick of this, she shouted privately.

    She is sick of this suffering, sick of the unbearably painful life, sick of the lies she told, sick of the façade she put on. I have to end this, she thought. Then what? Will her spirit her body and wonders around aimlessly in an infinite void? Or will it disappear as her dead flesh rots?

    She laughed at herself heartily. She laughed at how pathetic she really is. How afraid he really is, as much as she claims herself to be enlightened and strong. She laughed at herself, ironically and painfully.

    This life has to go on, but all that is left of her is the shape that resembles her physical body, yet her soul was invaded – and devoured by the horrific truth.

    She is Haruka, and she is a believer of the truth.


    The ought to do it. Haruka stated twistedly, while holding bottles of gin in her hand. Should be enough to help me live on.

    Wiping her mouth while dropping the empty bottle, she let out a sigh of satisfaction. She can no longer see clearly. Good, the gin is working.

    “You shouldn’t be drinking.” said a voice beside her. The voice sounded rough, torn and hoarse, as if it was shattered by some force. Haruka turned to look at the direction where the voice came, and blurrily saw a young man, holding a bottle of vodka.

    “Who are you to tell me not to drink?” she remarked rudely. To her, etiquette is just another meaningless way that restricted her from being truthful.

    “Who am I to talk? I have all the right.” The man shifted angrily. “If you continue to poison your mind, your pathetic life will end up like mine.”
    “Why should I listen to you?”

    “You shouldn’t.”

    “I don’t want your pity.” Haruka said angrily.
    “Do I look like I have spare pities for others?”

    “Then why did you start this conversation?”
    “Because you are lost.”
    “Is that a question?”

    “No, that is a statement.”

    Haruka looked at her ghastly neighbor, and got up. I don’t need this. She thought. This conversation is unnecessary. Just as she was able to walk away, the ever so irritating voice, with the help of the wind, reached her ear.

    “Nothing is real eh?”
    She turned, “what?”

    “Nothing matters to you anymore, huh? Everything is just meaningless.”

    “How would you know?”

    “How would I know what endless route of life you are taking and what are your beliefs? The reason is that my life was on the exact same route before, also, your little life is a lot more transparent as you think it is.”

    “Is this some kind of tale of how you started to believe everything and your life is all better?” Haruka asked angrily, she really doesn’t need this.



    “No. My life never got better.” The stranger stood up, “My life never got better. It is always like this and I always did not bother to enhance it.” He finished as he began to walk away.

    Haruka stood there, frozen. The man was smelly, dirty and horrifyingly disgusting. His voice sounded like nail scratching a whiteboard which Haruka think is her soul. Yet, it sure left deep marks on it.

    “Who are you?” She asked simply.

    The man stopped, and giving her a look of expected disgust.

    “Nothing but a small ring of this big chain of life. Or known to you as…” The man paused.

    “As what?” She felt the urge to ask, yet the man;s emotion let no room for further questions.

    “I call myself… a pessimistic dreamer.”
  10. Jemi Rose

    Jemi Rose Thunder Trainer

    Wow!, I'm really into this! Ok, a few errors that I've seen so far is with punctuation and I guess that's about it so far...Well, I do add another sugestion, but I don't if you might actually do it for the next chapter,...could you make the chapter a little longer?


    Until your next chapter, I'll keep an eye for this story!

  11. ~Raiv~

    ~Raiv~ Cuter than you!

    This is very desciptive and interesting.I love how the story is going and I hope the next chapter comes soon.I think you do need the chapter to be a bit longer but otherwhise nothing else is wrong, so keep the up the work!

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