oraclelandscapes

[oraclelandscapes]

"I didn't comment on a fic I liked because I don't think the author would care or remember my comment anyway". fanfic writer here, I still remember comments I got on my fics from seven years ago. I still think about them and they still make me smile. your kind comments are what motivates us and what helps us keep writing.

I personally know writers who take screenshot and print out comments they got from their readers.

TL;DR comments matter to us writers more than you think. if you like a fanfic, never be shy to let the author know ♡

[oraclelandscapes]

MIDNIGHT EXPRESS

CHAPTER 1 /CHAPTER 2/CHAPTER 3/CHAPTER 4/CHAPTER 5

You stumbled back, your breath hitching in your throat. Tanner's glassy eyes were locked at you and they had an accusatory stare. Cause maybe deep down you knew this is what you wanted. But you would never act upon it then who did?

He definitely seemed like the man who had no shortage of people who want him dea-

"Ack" you felt a flash of pain beneath for skin in your leg from the bruise Tanner gave you before. You dropped down clutching it with both your hands as if it would make the pain go away.

You dragged your feet stumbling out of here. Because if you stayed a second longer, Isabella would worry. You spotted her just outside the boutique her eyes red calling out name through broken sobs. By now the pain in your leg had almost gone. Her eyes flicked up to your face and she started crying even more.

"Miss! Where did you go?! I was looking all over for you! Did you even know how scared I was?"

She took one look at your face and slowly realized the mess you were in the way your body trembled. You had run all the way here terrified after seeing the lifeless body of someone you knew. When you reached her, every last bit of strength had gone you collapsed right into her arms.

And then you fainted.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

It began with small things first - the hair clip you used to adore, a phrase that you spoke often, a book that you treasured all forgotten when did you change so much?

You must be tired, you must tired right?

Now you speak of different things, dreams that you told, you don't say I love you anymore when did you change so much?

You must be tired, you must be tired right?

Your gaze doesn’t hold that soft glow anymore you look at me like I’m a stranger, yet still you stay by my side, as if taking some twisted wager. When did you change so much?

You must be tired, you must be tired right?

But I am frightened of the one who wears my wife's face, humming a song I have never heard she was long gone now you took her place.

I must be tired, I must be tired right?

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You heard soft sniffling before you opened your eyes in your bedroom, you shifted a little and it stopped. Mark was crouched on the floor with his hands now aggressively wiping at his face.

"Where were you?" he asked, voice rough as he cleared his throat.

"Shopping… for the wedding dress."

"No," he retorted, eyes narrowing. "In between that you disappeared. Then came running back like you’d seen a ghost. Do you have any idea how worried I was?" he tried his best to keep his anger from spilling out.

"I am sorry.." you whispered your eyes glassy with tears.

They say a women's best weapon is her tears but you were not trying to cry it was the cologne Mark was wearing that just would not stop stinging your eyes it just become worse when he came to hug you.

"I am not mad just don't do that again" he cooed, while patting your back.

"……"

"Why are you not saying it?" he held you by your arms his eyes burning into yours. "Look at me and say it"

"Huh? Say what?"

"That you would not do it again" he clarified his eyes unblinking.

You were silent for a few seconds and said, "I will not do that again"

D-10 to the wedding

Ten days till your last name changes. And you bind to someone legally and eternally forever. You could never say you knew Mark. You could be with someone for years sleep in their arms laugh at their stupid jokes and someday they could still manage to surprise you with something better or something worse. But he is different from before, Mark Hudson.

He does not own a string of a billion dollar companies, but he is far from something you would call poor.

He hadn’t spoken to you for days after first bringing you to his house and now when the wedding is just a few days away, he watches you like a hawk like he is trying to catch you slip up something dangerous that will blow your cover.

You are just finishing up the last fitting of your dress, the only time you could actually breathe because traditions say that grooms are not allowed to see their brides in their wedding dress before the ceremony saying it brings bad luck.

But right now its the only thing that is keeping Mark out of the room.

Or at least it was supposed to.

You hear his voice just outside the room with Isabella.

"Is she in there?"

Isabella stammered something but you did not catch it because your heart was beating too loud.

You stepped closer to the door clutching your dress.

"Um, do you need something?", you call out to him trying your best to keep the tremble in your voice away. "I will be there in a few minutes"

"Open the door. Now, its urgent." leaving no room for argument.

You paused straightened your back

"You know I can't, don't make me break the rule your mother will be furious."

He let out a sharp exhale.

"Fine"

You hear his steps retreated down the hall.

You let out a shaky breath and looked back to the mirror.

[oraclelandscapes]

[oraclelandscapes]

Some idiot: "Why are you reading your own fic, that's shallow and stupid"

All fanfic writers and writers everywhere: "Who the fuck do you think I wrote it for?!"

[oraclelandscapes]

If you read the fic, leave the kudos. Leave a comment too, if possible. Just do it. It takes a few seconds of your time and it means the world to the writer.

Sincerely, me who just got told that my writing feels like watching a blockbuster movie. I don't care if they were sincere or not, I'll be thinking about that comment for the rest of my life and every time I feel bad about my art, I'll remember that someone once liked it.

[oraclelandscapes]

MIDNIGHT EXPRESS

CHAPTER 1 /CHAPTER 2/CHAPTER 3/CHAPTER 4

tw: uh a dead body?

The wedding is two weeks away. And it showed.

You thought you'd be losing your sleep over the invitations, guest list, catering, the damn color of the napkins all that nonsense.

Turns out you don't have to worry about a single thing your in laws planned to take care of it.

But did that mean you are finally free to figure out a plan to get out of here?

No. Of course not.

You were still very busy choosing with the perfect wedding dress also preparing something called a trousseau.

Trousseau in modern language its basically a bridal haul- custom silk gowns, lace-trimmed nightwear, embroidered linens and fancy undergarments. According to traditions, its something that the bride's mother helps prepare. Unfortunately, your this universe's mother isn't present. And it would’ve been weird to start asking questions now. So you and Isabella took it upon yourselves.

You felt guilt eating you alive as the dress maker draped the measuring tape around your chest because so much money was being spent on you but you were busy scheming to get out of here. Mark is great and all but you had to get back to your timeline in your universe where your parents are probably tearing the world apart looking for you.

Isabella's eyes lit up with every new dress you tried on, each one better than the last. In her eyes you could already see yourself walking down the aisle. But you were just waiting for the correct timing to sneak out of this boutique and you had a bit of a plan in mind.

When you two were almost done preparing the trousseau you asked her-

"Isabella" you said while propping up your gown and taking a seat "would you be my bridesmaid? There is no one else from my side who'll be at the wedding."

Her eyes widened. "Yes, it would be an honor. miss"

You smiled, "Then why don't you pick a good dress from here itself, the Hudsons will pay for it."

“I couldn’t…” she started, but you gave her one look stopping her mid-sentence.

“This isn’t charity,” you confessed. “It’s a thank you. For everything.”

She nodded. “I’ll find something simple,”.

But as her eyes drifted across the boutique rows of silk, lace and satin displayed in front of her she fell silent. Then she was gone, swallowed up by a sea of dresses, fingertips gliding across the fabrics like she was walking through a fairytale.

And this was your chance.

The plan was reckless but simple: go back and investigate to where it all started.

The train station.

Cuz if there was only one way out of here wouldn't it be the way you came from?

There was not a second to waste so off you went.

The sun was setting as you rushed out onto the cobbled street long shadows overcast with your heart racing in your corset which you definitely hadn't paid for yet. You kept your head under a cloak in fear of being recognized by one of Mark's acquaintances. The short time you two had spent together made you realize he is well connected. You hiked up your skirt despite how unsightly it may be.

It was getting darker and more difficult to navigate so you needed some help passing by a bunch of shops and bars you heard quiet laughter of men drinking their night away. You asked one of the men with a soot covered coat.

"Excuse me sir, do you know where the train station is?"

The man gave you a curious look but told you anyways, "Down past the mill miss, follow the smoke"

"Thank you!" you called over your shoulder as you took off ahead, feet flying beneath you.

The streetlights where dim but then you heard it- a low whistle of train the smell of smoke growing richer. You turned around the corner but saw a bunch of people's voice growing louder like screaming or crying pointing towards the sky. Mothers were taking their children shielding their eyes and you instinctively looked up.

Your blood ran cold.

A shape was swaying in the wind ominously.

It was hard for people make out the face but you knew who it was.

You were desperately trying to look away to think than it wasn't what you thought it was. But it wasn't going to change the truth.

His boots was glinting softly under the moonlight. Arms stretched out wrists slashed. His neck could not humanly be in this angle but it was.

Eyes wide open.

Mouth dripping with blood.

Officer Tanner.

Strung out displayed in front of the train station like a marionette with his puppeteer long gone.

He is dead.

And someone wants you to see it.

[oraclelandscapes]

MIDNIGHT EXPRESS

CHAPTER 1 /CHAPTER 2/CHAPTER 3

Its been a week you have been stuck here and you still have no idea how to get back home because you have been too busy trying to adjust to this new environment so that you don't get caught by your soon to be husband. It hard for you to believe that you are about to be married, but you refuse to accept it as real after all you are not the (y/n l/n) from this timeline and you intend to keep it that way.

Currently you were trying to force yourself into a corset with the help from the maid of the house, named Isabella she is just a few years younger than you are.

"Breathe in, breath in" she instructed but its easier said than done. Then comes in layers of petticoats, underskirts making the dress heavier.

How did women do this everyday? No wonder I looked weird in shirt and pants.

The bodice was fastened cinching your waist with large puffy sleeves on side making you look beautiful atleast according to Isabella but to you all this looked like was a theatrical inconvenience.

You stepped down to the dining table for breakfast, surprised to see your fiancé seating there. He had been too busy all week to be at home.

Usually to you this would be a clear sign that he is cheating on you not that you cared considering you two barely spoke to each other since that day so you didn't question it.

Its not like you are planning on staying here for long anyways.

He greeted you with a smile.

"Hey, sorry I’ve been so busy lately, but it looks like my schedule has finally cleared up. Finally we’ll be spending more time together."

You tried to smile. But it was hard. Because a question had been nagging you in your head.

At the police station, Hudson said, "We're about to be married," which means we’re not married yet. So why are we living together? Isn’t that a little scandalous for these times? But how could I have asked that directly cuz if I was her I would know but i am not her I am a fake tricking an innocent man.

"You look worried. What's on your mind?" he asked.

Before you could stop yourself, you just blurted out, "When are we getting married?"

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Huh? I thought you knew no?"

Well there is no backing out now, You scrambled for an excuse, "It just slipped my mind with everything that's been going on.." 

"Two weeks, we are going to get married in two weeks"

Your heart dropped there is barely any time at all.

Your brain already started to devise a plan in panic because it would be way better for you to leave before the wedding instead of after.

"Let's go," he said, carrying a basket in his hands.

"Where?" you asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

Where?? You asked again cause he didn't answer he just smiled playfully and walked ahead.

You reached a park bustling with life. Rows of different flowers coloured the field in shades of pink, red and yellow with sweet smell drifting from everywhere. Couples sat together lost in their own conversations. There was a path leading to a small pond where swans glided along the serene stream of water.

"Wow, it’s so beautiful," you said, taking in the breathtaking scenery.

He glanced at you. "Hmm, I knew you’d like it. Come on, sit down," he said, spreading a mat over the soft grass.

He opened the basket and your eyes met a carefully arranged assortment of treats. Freshly baked bread, still warm, a wedge of cheese rested beside a jar of golden honey, shining under the sunlight. There were also deep red strawberries, juicy peaches and grapes.

With a bottle of chilled lemonade, some condensation forming on the glass. And lastly pastries dusted with powdered sugar to complete. Everything looked perfect.

Isabella is damn wonderful at her job.

"Here" he plucked out a grape held towards your lips with a expectant look in his eyes.

You shyly leaned in as he fed you his gaze never leaving yours. You felt his fingertips grazing your lips. Your heartbeat rising. You looked away.

"Well are you not going to feed me? Don't be shy now we are going to get married soon remember?"

"Yes," you said, clearing your throat. "I remember."

You held a strawberry up to his lips, expecting him to just take a quick bite and be done with it. But instead, he parted his lips slowly, eating in an agonizingly slow motion. His lips were warm and teasing, as he bit down.

"I knew it, it always tastes way better when you feed me." he said, your cheeks reddening.

After finishing the meal, you stretched your legs to get ready for a walk. Without a word, he casually took your hand in his, and led you forward keeping you close.

The afternoon sun dipped into the horizon.

"Its getting late we should head back" he said.

You nodded as the two of you made your way home. The cool evening breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the lingering scent of flowers.

This was nice. It almost made you want to stay here. Almost.

[oraclelandscapes]

MIDNIGHT EXPRESS

CHAPTER 1 /CHAPTER 2

IT IS NOT WISDOM BUT AUTHORITY THAT MAKES A LAW

TW: Police violence

Your legs were starting to give up as you left the station behind. You didn’t even know where you were going. Your rhythmic steps blended along with the murmurs of strangers passing by.

Just when you were about to pause, to take a breath , a sudden jolt of pain shot through your calf. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping your lips as your legs buckled beneath you. What the hell was that? A cramp? Did you pull something ? Or something worse?

Just then, a voice belonging to a police officer the source of your pain stood above you spoke with his baton in his hand.

"Miss? I think you need to accompany me to the police station."

You froze.

Your pulse hammered in your ears. Just when you thought things can't get any worse universe has its way of suprising you.

You had never been in trouble with the police before. Not once. And it was sure as hell wasn’t going to be today.

Swallowing hard, you forced your body to cooperate. Your calf still throbbed, but you obliged.

What choice did you have?

With a deep breath, you nodded stiffly and started walking.

An unshakable dread curling in your stomach.

"So, why were you running?" the officer asked, his tone edged with a bit of curiosity.

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. "Uhh… is it illegal to run around here?"

The officer let out a short laugh. "Ha! No, but it certainly looks suspicious—especially in that unconventional clothing." His gaze swept over your attire, eyebrows raising slightly. "Did you steal your father’s clothes? Or perhaps your husband's?" A smirk tugged at his lips. "You look too young to be married already... but the faster, the better, is it not?"

"I am not married," your face twisted in disgust.

The officer unfazed. "You’re a hysteric, aren’t you?" he stated. "Always causing trouble for decent folk." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "God , I’m calling the nearest hospital. They’ll know what to do with you."

Your heart pounded against your ribs. "I am not a hysteric! Why do you think that?"

He let out a dry chuckle, arms folding across his chest . "Well, let’s see. Running about like a madwoman. No respect for a police officer. Not yet married. Dressing up as a man. What else could you be?"

"Pants. I am just wearing pants," you said in taunting tone as if stating the obvious would somehow make the situation less ridiculous.

The officer’s expression darkened, he took a step closer to you, "Miss, it looks like you don’t quite grasp the situation you’re currently in." his voice glinting with something dangerous.

"Either you’re a hysteric, or you’re a spy cross-dressing as a man," he said, his tone turning colder. "Also that accent of yours? It isn’t from around here." He leaned in slightly, his presence looming over you, "Where are you from again?"

"She’s with me," said the man from before one who you ran away from the train station.

The officer’s head snapped up at the voice, his stern expression faltering for a split second.

"Mr. Hudson?" he said, surprise evident in his tone. His gaze flickered between the man and you, skepticism creeping in. "I didn’t know you were…."

His voice trailed off as he studied your face, uncertainty settling in. "She said she’s not married."

Hudson didn’t miss a beat. "Well, we’re about to be," he said smoothly. "But that’s not any of your business now, is it, Officer Tanner?"

A tense silence stretched between them. The officer’s jaw tightened.

"I believe you were just about finished," he said his grip firm as he took hold of your wrist and led you out without another word.

You didn’t argue as you stepped out of the police station, doing your best to mask the limp in your leg. Hudson remained silent beside you neither of you spoke for a long while as you both walked.

He finally stopped in front of the iron gates of a towering house, framed by oaks. The weight of everything that had just happened—was the final crack in your resolve.

You broke.

Tears came fast , your breath hitching as confusion overwhelmed you. You did not understand what was happening, why were you here, Is this what your life is now?

Without hesitation, your "future husband" pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a firm, embrace.

"What—what happened?, did he do something to you?"

You did not answer, only buried your face against his chest, your sobs muffled into the fabric.

"Don’t cry, my love," he murmured, pressing a hand to the back of your head. "My heart hurts too so much if you do."

After a long moment, he exhaled, a quiet sigh against your temple. "Come inside," he murmured.

You didn’t resist as he led you past the iron gates, up the stone steps, and through the heavy doors of the house. It was warm inside—inviting.

He sat you down to a chair near the fireplace, the cushion sinking slightly beneath your weight. Then, without a word, he knelt before you, his fingers brushing against your ankle as he carefully pulled off your heels.

His gaze meet yours briefly before returning his attention to your injured leg, moved gently as he examined the bruise beneath your stocking.

"You should have said something," he murmured, voice edged with quiet frustration.

"It’s nothing," you said, awkwardly.

He pressed his thumb lightly against the tender skin, and you winced.

"Nothing doesn’t make you flinch," he countered.

You swallowed, looking away. Pretending to know this caring unfamiliar man was not going to be an easy task.

Hudson stood abruptly, disappearing into the next room before returning with a first aid kit. He crouched before you again, carefully mending your wounds.

"I don’t know what happened back there and i won't know if you don't tell me," he said after a long pause , " but you don’t have to tell me. Not yet."

And for now, that was enough.

[oraclelandscapes]

MIDNIGHT EXPRESS

CHAPTER 1

TO TRAVEL IN TIME IS TO DANCE ON THE EDGE OF PARADOX

Today the universe decided you were its punching bag. From your nine to five, you barely got to catch your breath; deadlines where missed, traffic jams, coffee spilled and your phone decided to die at the worst possible minute. Exhaustion set in your bones as you rushed to catch the last train of the day. Something you find yourself doing more these days.                                                                                             

It was deserted; not a single person was there on the train platform beside yourself. Your heels click-clack echoed down the platform, making the atmosphere eerie with only an old man sleeping on bunch of newspapers as your audience. Everything was too quiet—no cars, no footsteps other than your own, making the platform feel bigger than usual.

But after such a hectic day you relished the silence with just your thoughts.

If the platform was so empty then maybe the train would also have lesser people in it.

The train came on time. Pulled up as normal, nothing was wrong with it. But there was this nagging feeling in your heart. Maybe this is the wrong train somehow. Feeling uneasy, you stepped on the train to see that your carriage was completely empty but the same flickering lights- hand cream advert that you saw everyday calmed you down signaling that you are on the right one. You got a seat and that was all you were thankful for. 

Everyday blurred into the next but this train ride was the favorite part of your day. You pulled out your earphones from your bag as you decided to play some music. Since no one was there you closed your eyes and swayed your head to the music lip-syncing the lyrics.                                                                                                   

You've never slept past your station it's only ten minutes away. Your body is practically programmed to wake up a minute before arrival, like clockwork. But today? Today was different.

It started with a faint hum in your ears to a high-pitched ringing echoed in your head. Your eyes remained shut struggling to grasp the sensations washing over you. Suddenly it felt as if the ground beneath you had disappeared entirely, as though you were floating in an unsettling emptiness. Then, a powerful wave of dizziness surged through your body, making it impossible to tell which way was up. Panic rose in your chest as your eyes snapped open, only to find your face flat on the cold, surface of the train floor below you.

The train came to a stop with a heavy screech, but something felt off. This wasn’t the same train you had boarded before. The seats looked different, it was early morning, the air thicker with an unfamiliar scent. You were somewhere else entirely.

Unlike before people were now everywhere. Footsteps occurred in every direction, a constant sound of movement played from all directions. People were dressed weirdly are now looking at you weirdly. You fled out of the train in panic and found safety in a secluded part of the station.                                                                                           

You tried to steady your racing heart, pounding like a frantic drum heard all the way upto your ears. Your breath came in uneven gasps, the air around you suddenly feeling thin. But you forced yourself to focus, to find a way to regain control before the suffocation overwhelmed you completely.

Something isn't right. Am I dreaming? No the tingling all over my body feel all too real.                  

You decided to calm yourself by looking down to your feet counting to 10. A habit that you adopted from your mother. But that's when you realized your heels were different. You originally had a cheap pair of black colored heels that were on there last breath. But now you were wearing a rather expensive looking pair of cherry red slingback heels that you wouldn't even hope to own one of them once in your life. But the rest of your outfit was same long-sleeved baby blue button-up shirt and black tailored trousers which had caught a little grime because you were laying on the train floor before.                                                                                         

How long has it been?

You rummaged your pocket trying to find your phone. Only to find a wallet with a bunch of old looking British money - Pound sterling date marked at 1832.      

Year 1832.

Your fingers start shaking almost dropping the wallet in surprise.

Okay… okay, think. This is just a dream. A really weird, messed-up dream—

"Hey miss are you okay?", a passerby asked eyes filled with concern.                       

"Mhm hmm. Just peachy." you scrambled out of there.

You have barely got to know that you have possibly time travelled to apparently the early 19th century. So you conclude its best not to talk to anybody before you find out what the fuck is going on. 

"There you are," a sudden voice called out belonging to a striking handsome man his lips curled into a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Where have you been I was looking all over for you an-and what are you wearing?" you frowned with confusion on your face as this man walked towards you. 

Is he talking to me?

After a brief moment of hesitation, you made your next move. It wasn’t exactly well thought out, but in your mind, this had to be what any rational, sane person would do in this situation. You spun on your heels and bolted. The world around you blurred, leaving the distant hum of the train station behind you.

This is my first story please be kind. Constructive criticism welcome.