#cornelius villadsen

[shizuuu]

This beautiful drawing by @mimikusu now gets a little backstory! After ages of not writing anything, this is what I came up with. It's completely written on tumblr, so the formatting will be crappy. Word count to be added.

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The Sea is calm tonight

A gloomy day was ahead of them, as John William Bradshaw and Cornelius Villadsen arrived at a little seaside village called Irhain. The air was foggy and damp and it was a tad bit chilly. They were relieved to find their little cabin directly at the cliffs. Which meant a wonderful sight to greet them every morning.

First thing John did when they had unpacked their belongings was to brew a nice cup of tea. The clearer air from the seaside already did wonders to his weak lungs. And he was enjoying the quiet too. As he rummaged around in the small kitchen area he heard Cornelius coming from upstairs. "Would you like some tea?", John asked quietly, not getting a vocal answer, only a slight nod when the older man entered. Not thinking too much of it, John proceeded making the tea. He found a little tray for it and brought it to the living area. "Cornelius?", he asked. "Coming." Was it his imagination or did his friend sound a little hoarse? It could be from speaking so rarely these past few days, John thought. When he laid his eyes on the other man, he knew something was up. The physician was pale - well more than usual - and the bags under his eyes were darker. John wanted to question him about it but thought against it. I should be watching over him a bit.

The day went on, and not much happened. After a little trip to some local stores, they decided to walk around for a bit. The seaside was lovely, with waves hitting the shore softly and the wind full of salt. Cornelius closed his eyes. This was home. Unbeknownst to John, this was his hometown. And he recognised everything here. It was painful, but at the same time, he felt at peace. He had felt quite nervous about this journey. Days without sleep had been the result of this. And now he felt it. He was constantly cold and his nose had started to run. He sniffled discreetly, bringing a hand to his nose. It was cold to the touch and twitched slightly. "Hiiih'tchmpf!" The stifled sneeze hurt his sinuses. Cornelius sighed. John turned. "Are you alright, Cornelius? You look chilled." Cornelius looked up. "A bit, I assume. It is getting late as well." John nodded. "We should return then."

Back in their cabin Cornelius slipped his coat off and practically slumped onto the couch. His head hurt and his nose was annoying him again. A shiver ran through him. "Hhih-ektchoo! Hii-Hishtchoo! Eh'CHOO!" With a groan, he flopped back. "Bless you." Startled, Cornelius looked up. John stood there, a blanket and a cup of tea in his hand. "Thought you would need this." The poet laid down the blanket and Cornelius closed his eyes. "Thank you." He coughed a little. "Do you have a hanbkerchief?" He sniffed again. John nodded and rummaged around until he found one. He returned to the living area - and smiled. Cornelius laid there fast asleep, his mouth slightly open.

Sleep tight, Cord.

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Thanks for reading! And again thank you @mimikusu for the drawing! <3

#shizuuu writing #cornelius villadsen #shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius my beloved broken little teacup

[shizuuu]

Well, here it is! The first encounter of John and Cornelius! This took me ages to pull off. I am not gonna lie, I am not too happy with it, especially the ending. Not beta'd as its too late to actually think right now. Also I'm a wreck rn. But! Now, enjoy. Feedback is very much appreciated!

The meeting (1117 words)

The library was almost empty when John entered, the sunlight barely shone through the large windows. The poet shuffled through the hall, his limbs feeling heavy and sore. A fever, maybe… His breath caught and he only barely managed to muffle the cough in his handkerchief. John winced. His chest felt like it was on fire. His head was throbbing and it hurt to swallow. "Just have to grab the books…", he murmured. John didn't even register his strained voice, barely audible. Licking his lips, he took one of the books out of a shelf. Ah, yes, "watering in greenhouses"…

Two hours later, John William Bradshaw had five books under his arms and was now looking for a place to study them properly. As the morning passed, more and more people came for a library visit. It… wasn't full, only slightly crowded in certain sections. But it was draining. Why was he so tired?

After a while of aimless walking, he caught sight of a bench in front of a large window. Some creme-white cushions and a blanket greeted him.

John practically slumped onto the couch, his books sliding on the floor. He couldn't care less, as sleep was already claiming him.

Energectic steps reverbrated through the library. They came to a halt and the rustling of pages echoed through John's head. A thunk and then there was a hand feeling for his forehead. John groaned, managing to open his eyes a tiny bit. A blurry face appeared before him and he was confused. Who was that?

"You do only have a slight temperature, but you don't look good." The voice was rough, as if the owner of the voice wasn't used to speaking. John sat up slowly.

A man, with broad shoulders and dark hair and...cold-greyish skin? sat on the edge of the couch, his eyes filled with concern and...professionalism? Again, John was confused. "Who are you?", he croaked before dissolving into a harsh coughing fit. The stranger reached for his leather bag sitting on the floor and handed him a little water bottle. John nodded his thanks and took a few gulps. The cool water did wonders to his sore throat. He felt like he could actually speak again without coughing. So he tried again: "Who are you?" His opponent gave him another look before he spoke. "Cornelius Villadsen. Physician." Well, that explained everything.

"You ought to stay in bed, not up and about in a library. I would recommend fluids and plenty of bedrest." John could only nod. He was too exhausted to do anything else. He slowly got up, swaying a little as he stood. Thin hands grabbed him and he could feel the eyes of the other man on him. The poet nodded his thanks and left, leaving his books behind.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The apothecary was small and almost empty. Cornelius Villadsen silently went through the different medicines needed for his patients, picking up some herbs and vials.

The little bell on the door rang and someone shuffled inside, pale and weak. Cornelius raised an eyebrow. He knew that young man. His brown hair was sticking to his face and he had bags under his eyes. He was wearing a light brown cardigan and a creme-light sweater, paired up with two scarfs.

The pharmacist, a pale man with grey eyes, looked up and smiled sadly. "Mr. Bradshaw! Your lungs giving you trouble again?" The young man simply nodded. "Bronchitis.", he rasped, before turning to the side, coughing harshly into his handkerchief. "Then you should be in bed." Cornelius' voice was stern. "Especially when this isn't the first time you're having bronchitis. I recommend ginger tea and thyme oil with ivy." The physician picked some oils and the said tea, giving it to the man. "Thank you.", he rasped. Then he looked at him. "Aren't you… the one from the library? Cord?" Cornelius nodded, slightly amused and annoyed by the nickname. "Cornelius Villadsen, physician.", he repeated his introduction. "John William Bradshaw.", the other whispered hoarsly. Cornelius turned to the pharmacist. "I am paying his medicine as well.", he told him, paying everything before he left, John closely behind him.

"Where do you live?", Cornelius asked the younger man. "I would like to take you home." John just nodded, telling him the location of his home.

It only took them half an hour to arrive at a little cottage in the woods. "So, this is where you live?", the physician asked somewhat suspiciously. John could only nod. His chest felt like it was made out of concrete, as was his head. That didn't hurt like that before...

He led Cornelius into his little living space. Cozy blankets and cushions littered the sofa, furs laid on the ground. There was also a little fireplace.

Cornelius told John to rest on the couch whilst he was putting up a small fire. "It is very important for you to keep warm. You also need rest and plenty of fluids... oh, and a handkerchief would be helpful as well, bless you.", he rambled on for a few moments before looking to his patient.

John was sitting up, halfway bundled up in the blankets, a handkerchief in his hands, merely inches away from his face. For a few seconds there was silence and then - "Hiih'ektchoo!" - the sick man pitched into the waiting cloth. "Do excuse mbe.", he muttered after blowing his nose. Cornelius shrugged. "You can't help it." He ventured into the little kitchen area. "I suppose you own a kettle?" John looked at him like he had just been asked if he was breathing air. Cornelius grinned and continued making tea for his patient.

"I thought you were more taciturn."

Cornelius looked up. They were sipping tea in quiet for a few minutes now. "Do you always speak more when you're around patients?" John asked, coughing again. Cornelius sat down his tea. "I guess.", he murmured after some thinking. John just nodded, as he was busy coughing again. It started to sound more productive.

"I'd prefer you wouldn't be alone in the night. Someone has to check on you." Cornelius' voice trailed off, unsure what to do next. John just started past him. "John? Are you with me?" No words, just ragged breaths. He came up to the younger man and checked his temperature. He's definitely warmer than before. Cornelius sighed inwardly. That wasn't a good sign. "Come on,", he encouraged quietly, "up you go." Grabbing him by the arms, Cornelius led John into another room, seemingly his bedroom. John immediately started to shiver, when the physician let him sink onto the bed. Cornelius sat next to him.

Looks like I'm the one staying here for the night.

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Thanks for reading! ^_^

#shizuuu: oc tag #shizuuu writing #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs

[shizuuu]

Under the weather

I finished another thing! And this time it actually contains snz! It's the first time for me writing sneeze. If you want, feedback is very much appreciated! 1300 words. TW for vertigo just to be sure.

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The frost had come the night before. Ice clung to grass and leaves and would only crush softly if someone stepped on them. A faint layer of ice even settled on the glass of the windows. Everything was quieter this morning.

John sat on his desk, huddled in a blanket. He wanted to write but the idea was long gone before he had the chance to write it down. He groaned quietly in frustration. That groan however turned into a nasty, almost chest-splitting cough. Heavens, that hurt. His whole body felt heavy and limp and his senses were dulled, his hearing the most of it. John shivered. He was definetly coming down with something, there was no denying it. And yet, here he was, telling Cornelius that he hadn't slept well and that his weak lungs were acting up again. But only that. He hadn't mentioned the splitting headache, the sore throat or the constant shivering. The poet couldn't even explain to himself why he was doing that. He was always the one who got easily sick as soon as the weather changed. The whole morning was spent trying to hide any symptoms from his friend. And with that, it only got worse. Now that Cornelius was out and about in the nearby village, his illness couldn't remain hidden anymore. Although he tried his best in drowning his ailment in probably even dangerous amounts of tea.

He couldn't get warm. The plan to write anything was long abandoned, his notebook laid unattended and still open on his desk. Now John was laying in his bed, his cardigan and two blankets thightly wrapped around his shivering frame.

“Hheh-hhtd’zssSHIH! Hiiih-Het'shoo!” The sudden sneezes caught him off guard and left him once again breathless. Had the sneezes only started like an hour ago, now his sinuses were completely clogged, which made it even more impossible to breathe properly. Add that to the cough that was settling in his chest at rapid pace and he was completely miserable. The poet closed his eyes. It was cold, way too cold, but maybe that was only the fever. Weakly, he pulled the blankets thighter around him, a loose attempt to get warm.

Gods, why was he so cold? A loud clatter threw him out of his daze and he turned around, lazily opening his hazel eyes. The window had opened from the wind outside, no wonder he was cold. But getting up seemed to be an impossible task right now…

With another groan John finally got himself out of the blankets. The room tilted dangerously to one side once he stood and he braced himself against the bed. Was he feverish? He didn't know, but it was a certain possibility. John wanted to call out for Cornelius but then he remembered, his friend wasn't even at home. He was, in fact, alone. As another coughing fit struck him, he almost doubled over from the force of it. With a low whimper of pain, he sunk to the ground, shivering and sweating at the same time. His lungs couldn't keep up, he couldn`t breathe! Tears sprung into his eyes and he curled in himself. John couldn't remember the last time he felt this sick. Not even the time after his sisters accident had been this bad. His sister… Cornelius… Oh, how he longed to have someone at his side right now. John closed his eyes. Maybe if he would wake up, everything would be better. Maybe he even would discover that the whole ordeal was nothing more than a dream. Maybe…

Consciousness left him almost immediately after he had closed his eyes. And with that he was gone.

Cold. It was the first thing John felt after what felt like an eternity. But it was a subconscious feeling which got replaced almost immediately. And then there was warmth.

A coughing spell shook him awake violently and most unpleasantly. Gasping for air, his eyes darted around the room he was in. Which was a bad idea. Black spots danced before his eyes and he had to close them again.

John felt the presence of someone beside him. A low, congested sigh escaped him. Someone was there. He wasn't alone anymore.

When he woke again he felt better. His sinuses were not as clogged as before and though the pain in his chest hadn't yet fully subsided, he felt better.

The room wasn't spinning anymore as well. Well, that was a relief. John let his eyes wander through the room. Cornelius sat beside him, looking all worried. That was very unlike him to say the least. The older man rarely showed his concerns this obviously. "John!" His voice was quiet and filled with concern. "You gave me quite the scare! I thought you said you just had trouble sleeping last night. You didn't say a single word about all this." John stayed silent for a while before the urge to sneeze overtook him by surprise yet again. “HhEh-hhtd’zssihh! Hiih..hi'gnk'tschoo!” Stifling wasn't sucessful at all. In fact, it only worsened the oncoming fit and he almost doubled over. The sneezes tore at his already abused throat. Only when he got aware of his surroundings again, he felt a handkerchief being pressed in his hand. With bleary eyes, John took it and gave a soft, yet surprisingly productive blow. “T-thank youhH-Hheh’tsschHhHw!…Goodness, thank you.” He sniffled one last time and rubbed his nose with the fabric. "I'm deeply sorry for all… this." Cornelius shook his head. The older man got up and left the room, returning shortly with another light grey comforter. John recognised it as the one from his friends' bedroom. "You don't have to apologise for any of that. I'm glad to help." John couldn't look at his friend. Embarrassed and still feverish, he sunk down on the matress again. Cornelius looked at him. "I'll go and make you some tea. Do you want anything in particular?" But John had already dozed off again.

His breathing was calmer now, not as ragged and painful sounding as before. Cornelius turned and was about to leave, when he heard the rustling of bedsheets, accompanied by a faint voice -

"Cord?" John's voice was barely a whisper. Cornelius turned his head slightly. John was propped up on one elbow, looking at him. "Could… could you stay? Please?" The other man returned to his friends' side.

"Only because you asked nicely.", he said with a faint hint of a smile. That smile that was only for his friend. "And if you promise me not to call me that ridiculous name again." A tiny smile cracked the chapped lips of the poet. Cornelius guided him back on the matress and then sat on the chair at John's desk. The tea could wait or even be postponed to tomorrow. "I'll stay here." Hearing himself he found himself being rather dense. So he brought the chair to John's bed to sit by his side.

With a faint smile the poet once again dozed off, this time for good. Cornelius snatched a book from the nightstand. Glancing at the cover, he opened it and read aloud:

"My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains

         My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,

Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains

         One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:

'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,

         But being too happy in thine happiness,—

                That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees

                        In some melodious plot

Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,

          Singest of summer in full-throated ease."

 . . .

When he finished reading John was fast asleep. Cornelius tucked the blankets tighter around his friend and removed one of the comforters, relieved when John didn't start shivering again.

"You now take your time and rest, John. I'll help you with it."

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Poem: Ode to a nightingale by John Keats

#shizuuu writing #shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #snzblr #snz writing #tw vertigo

[shizuuu]

Awww! I was hoping to get a chance! I want to know all of it, of course... but can I get 7, 8 and 15 for now? 🥰

Oooh, of course! Sorry for the delay, I was hospitalised. 😣 But I'm better now and I can leave tomorrow!! Now, onto the asks!

7) How do they trust people? Will they give themselves up for someone else?

Both of them are people who don't trust others easily. But especially John is like, "I'd fall off a cliff for you" if he trusts someone.

Cornelius sometimes thinks he's not worth the trust of others. But John talks him out of that very quickly.

8) How do they react to someone around them being sick? Does it make a difference, whether it's a friend or a stranger?

Cornelius is very professional about it. Although it makes a much bigger difference if friends are involved. He fiddles around more.

John is kind of a helpless little bean if Cornelius falls seriously sick. He will be a mess because he doesn't know a ding-dang thing about healing (which is what he thinks, but he actually knows the basics, he just forgets everything out of panic)

15) How do they deal with loneliness?

Both try to distract themselves. John usually writes or tends to his garden and Cornelius reads. Sometimes he watches John during his gardening chores.

#shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #ask shizuuu

[shizuuu]

💤 - A few extra hours of sleep (Cornelius edition)

AN: This is soft, sick Cornelius and pretty much no plot at all. @mimikusu thank you again for the request! Also this was completely on the go so if it isn't up to my normal standards... I apologise. Also not proofread or anything. Around 700 words, I really hope that the grammar issues aren't too bad.

A storm swept through the forest and the rain poured against the windows of the little cottage. Cornelius laid in bed, breathing heavily and finding himself unable to sleep. A glance on his pocket watch. 2 am. Cornelius heaved out a sigh. His sinuses were clogged and his head was pounding. Must be a cold... He curled in on his left side, closing his eyes and hoping to fall asleep. A sudden itch in the back of his nose prevented that. The physician felt his breath started to hitch. Not now... Not now, when he finally got John to sleep! After a sudden burst of inspiration a week ago, the poet had spent hours on his desk. He wouldn't eat much, if any and wouldn't sleep, claiming he would lose the inspiration and the words from it. It got to the point where Cornelius really started to worry about his friend. But now there were more pressing matters at hand. "Hhh...hhaKtch!" That was close. Cornelius released a breath he didn't know he was holding and blinked away some tears. He realised something in his head and sinuses had shifted and that he could breathe a little better. Thank goodness! Cornelius shifted uneasily in his bed a couple of minutes and then managed to fall asleep at last.

John felt throughly rested, when he awoke to birds chirping in the forest. It was a quiet morning, the storm from last night was gone. He found the kitchen empty when he entered. Well, that was odd. Usually, due to his nightmares, Cornelius wasn't blessed with many nights of sleep. It pained John now that he thought of it. I hope he's okay... John walked over to the sink, filling the kettle with water. When he was done with the tea, Cornelius still hadn't showed up. Quietly, he left and approached his friend's room.

Behind the door was silence. That wasn't new to the poet. But still, something did not feel right to him. Slowly, John opened the door. Heat washed over him the second he entered. This wasn't good. He immediately glanced over to Cornelius. The physician laid there, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, his face pale with reddened cheeks. John sighed and opened a window, letting the stale air out of the room at last. Then he knelt beside his friend, slightly nudging his shoulders. "Cornelius, wake up." The other man fulfilled the request shortly after, sitting up and squinting his tired eyes at John. "John...did something happen? Are youhhHTCH’CHUH!" The sneeze tore right out of him without any time to cover himself. And he wasn't done. "HhhHaah-KtCHUH! HhhK'IH'CHUHH!" Cornelius pleadingly looked at John. "John, please, I need a ti-IHZchew!” John got it and produced a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his shirt. Cornelius could only nod his thanks, as he was again overcome by two harsh, unapologetic sneezes. After a quick but productive blow, the older man flopped back on the bed with a groan. John nervously bit his lip. "It seems like you've caught a cold.", he piped up. Cornelius only groaned again. "Figured as much.", he grumbled. "Couldn't sleep very well." He sniffed. John placed a hand on his friend's forehead. A slight temperature, he should keep an eye on that. "Are you hungry yet?", he asked, to which Cornelius only murmured something that sounded like a half-asleep "not yet." John smiled. "How about I write something down and prepare breakfast afterwards? You could get a little more sleep, maybe an hour and a half.", he offered. Thinking about John's cooking skills made Cornelius shiver - or was that the slight fever? Must be. Anything else wasn't intended. "Nothing canned, please.", he murmured. He didn’t want to upset his stomach as well. The cold alone was enough. John grinned. "I thought about eggs on toast? If that sounds doable?" Cornelius could feel the mockery in his voice and smiled. Fully intended. "Call me if the kitchen's on fire, would you?" With a quiet laugh, John made his way out of the room. When he looked back, Cornelius was fast asleep again, slightly breathing through his mouth. John smiled.

A few more hours of sleep couldn't hurt.

#shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #ask shizuuu #snzblr #shizuuu writing #first time writing a snz fit oh well #hope its good

[shizuuu]

I have a Pinterest board for my ocs! Take a look if you want! 😊

#shizuuu writing #shizuuu: oc tag #cornelius villadsen #john william bradshaw

[shizuuu]

"I sent you so many letters, did you not get them?"

Another little thing done! I will check on the word count later on, as soon as technology decides to work again. Just a little thing without that much plot. Have fun!

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The knocking was persistent. Dull and persistent. It hammered through John's head. He wanted to ignore it. Who would be there anyways? It was late in the evening - or that's what he thought.

The knocking wouldn't go away. Whoever was out there, the person was stubborn as hell. With a low groan John got up. Stumbling, he moved to the door. Without even realising it he knocked a pile of letters over and they flew to the ground.

Finally he reached for the doorknob and opened.

The rush of cold air made him shiver and he involuntary sucked in a breath, as he tried for his mind to cooperate. Now, who wanted what from him? Why was he even out of bed? He shouldn't be out of bed. John was throughoutly confused.

The concerned grey eyes of Cornelius greeted him. He was drenched and had some scratches, but looked unharmed. His voice only mirrored his concern.

"John! I sent you so many letters, did you not get them? I was worried and as it seems I was right. You do look awful." The poet couldn't even form words. He looked up to Cornelius and tried taking a few steps forward. He staggered and reached out for his friend.

Cornelius grabbed him and held him to his body. "John…John, I got you." He put his hand on the poet's forehead. "You're burning up. Let's get you into bed." The man in his arms could only nod.

The kettle whistled and Cornelius finished two cups of tea. With the tray in hand he walked over to John's bed. The poet was propped up against his pillows, shivering as he took the cup of tea from Cornelius. After some quiet moments Cornelius spoke. "I sent you so many letters, did you not get them?", he repeated his question from just a few moments earlier. It took some time before John answered. "I did get them… but I was mostly bedridden for the last weeks." The younger man's voice was barely noticeable, scratchy and hoarse. Cornelius raised an eyebrow. "Weeks?", he asked. "How many weeks?" John wanted to answer, but a sudden sneeze wracked his body. "Hhh…hehn'tschoo!" The sneeze triggered another coughing fit which left him gasping for air. Good thing his teacup was already empty. "Almost three.", he answered when he finally could. Cornelius heaved out a sigh. "And you didn't find that - concerning to say the least? The way you sound you could have pneumonia!" When John didn't answer Cornelius got up and took their cups into the kitchen. When he returned, he found John fast asleep, the blanket had fallen off his shoulder onto the floor. After a quick check for his fever, which had gone down a bit, Cornelius covered him with the blanket. The younger man wiggled around and mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep. Cornelius smiled. "Sleep, my friend."

He stayed like that for a while, kneeling beside the bed.

When he got up, his sore back protested. With a low grunt, Cornelius stretched. It was then, when he noticed the letters on the floor. All of them opened, except the newest one on his friend's nightstand. It must have arrived today.

About twenty minutes later, Cornelius stepped out of the bathroom, wearing his nightclothes. After a last check he was confirmed that John was sleeping, his breath congested, either from congestion in his sinuses or from the coughing, it was hard to tell, but even.

What a sight to come home to. And I wouldn't want to have it any other way.

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#shizuuu writing #shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs

[shizuuu]

I made a little aesthetic/moodboard for Cornelius! Really love the vibes of this one!

Cornelius Color Scheme:

💙🖤🤍

•●🌕●••●🌕●••●🌕●••●🌕●••●🌕●•

#shizuuu: oc tag #cornelius villadsen #not snz #character moodboard #cornelius my beloved broken little teacup #yes that is a hann/bal reference #if you know then you know

[shizuuu]

AN: 774 words. John is using his magic, yey! It took me very long to get this thing all together, with logic and sense and stuff. This takes place before Cornelius' whole scar incident. Feedback is very much appreciated! And again, English is not my first language (translating from German is so tiring... ^_^, ).

TW: Nightmares, abusive family member (briefly mentioned)

"You are not worthy being my son."

"I should have abandoned you a long time ago."

"Now, you are a filthy halfling from deep underwater, why are you screaming? This is water, you can deal with that!"

He awoke with a strangled gasp. Darkness clung around him, he couldn't see. He was curled up on his side, face glistening with sweat. A nightmare... It was another painful nightmare. He couldn't remember the details but he knew what it was. His father.

The voice of his father, full of hate and malice echoed in his head.

"I should have gotten rid of you right after you were born!"

"Stop!" A hoarse cry, tearing at his throat. Please make it stop. Anyone, please!

Cornelius didn't notice his room door opening, didn't notice the quiet, slowly approaching steps, didn't notice his tears.

Cornelius. . . A warm voice filled his head. You are not alone . . . It almost felt like warm, soft sunlight filling his mind, comforting him.

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.

Cornelius didn't know what that was supposed to mean. But it felt comforting. Hands were on his shoulders, holding him, keeping him from falling into the darkness of his dreams.

Slowly he opened his eyes. They were bleary and full of tears. Tears he would never admit to shed. Golden eyes looked at him, the glowing slowly fading away. It was then, when he recognised the face. John. The poet sat by his side, his hair a wild, tousled mess and with bags under his eyes. Seemed like Cornelius wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping...

The physician looked around. He was in his room, candles lighting up the place a bit. A shiver ran through his spine and he brought the blanket closer to himself, curling into it. He looked to John, whose eyes still had a glim of gold in them. Why were they glowing?

John stood, his left knee protesting slightly. "Do you want some tea?", he asked, as if nothing had happened. Cornelius could only muster a weak nod. John left the room, giving Cornelius some minutes of privacy.

The older man slowly sat up. The madness of his nightmare was gone. He still felt a little shaken, but other than that, he felt... comforted.

"Why were your eyes glowing?", Cornelius asked quietly. They were sitting in the small living space of John's little cottage, quietly sipping their tea.

John raised his head. "Glowing?", he asked, sounding somewhat cautious. "Yes. Glowing." John sat his cup of tea down. Cornelius just went on. "Listen. I know you don't speak much for whatever reasons and I respect that. But that voice inside my head? What was that? It came from you I'm sure of that. So you better give me an explanation for that!" He knew his words were harsh, but that wasn't something he could care about. Not now. However the poet was able to do that, he was able to get into other people's minds for God's sake!

The younger man cleared his throat. "Have you ever heard of Sacred Bibliomancy?" Cornelius, a bit taken aback from that question, nodded. Yes, distinctively, he had. But what had it to do with all of that?

"I can create spells through simple spoken words. In the Sacred Bibliomancy you would need a spellbook, a pergament, any form of sacred written material to perform the spells you need. I only need my vocal chords for that. It is the reason I speak so rarely. Emotions have a direct effect on my magic and sometimes, they slip through. I prefer writing over speaking about my emotions. Hence why I became a poet in the first place." John paused to take another sip of his tea. "My eyes are like that when I actively use my magic. I was trying to get inside your head to free you from the terror in your mind. I deeply apologise for that as I was not permitted to do so." There, Cornelius could feel something. Regret. He let his thoughts wander for a moment; he couldn't remember a time where he had heard the poet talking this much. "You said you can convert your poems into spells... what was the thing you said to me earlier? A quote from one of your poems?"

John's face reddened slightly. "That was a quote from William Woodsworth." He smiled and chuckled softly. "I... had to improvise." Cornelius grinned. "It did the trick though." He filled their cups again. "Thank you...", Cornelius said after a while. John merely nodded.

"No need to thank me for that."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading!

#shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #not snz #shizuuu writing #nightmare whump #why is the formatting so crappy? #onenote please

[shizuuu]

Scars

Here it is! The fever whump I promised! It is LONG, at least for my standards. Enjoy reading and please read the TW!

Words: 1814

Trigger Warning: Scars, Burns, Abusive family member, death of family members, graphic descriptions of violence

April is a strange month. One day, it can be drizzling with rain the entirety of said day, another one is full of sunshine and twittering birds. But once this time of the year, with its many weather changes is done, spring is in full bloom.

John liked the spring. He liked all seasons, for each of them had its own charm. If he had to pick his least favourite, however, it would be winter. The cold did him not well by any means, year and year again.

Spring was the time of blossoming flowers and sun and birds. He felt inspired by it. Spring must have been made for poetry, he thought that sometimes.

John plucked some wilted flowers from the flower bed. The rain had finally stopped. As much as he loved rain and the atmosphere with it, it was annoying when it was this persistent. John got up with a sharp pain in his left knee and winced. I should not kneel on the floor this much, he thought looking grim. But that's not to worry now. Now, the cauliflower.

The beds with the vegetables were his pride and joy. He loved the feeling of growing his own food, tending to the little plants and tending to them until they matured had something on it. He couldn't quite place a finger on it, but it calmed him.

After the cauliflower, there were the geen beans. And the salad. Every bed had two to three rows of plants in them. The frame of the beds were made out of wood, mostly, the one for the beans was made out of stone. A blackbird watched him from afar as John tended to the vegetables, the sun warming his back. It was peaceful. Simple. He liked that.

A shadow appeared behind him. John turned. Cornelius was standing there, his pale face almost glowing in the sun. "What are you doing?" "Harvesting." John smiled. "It shouldn't take long for the beans to be ready, maybe two weeks or so." Cornelius nodded. "Can I help you with anything?", he asked almost shyly. "If you want to, you could water the beds once I'm finished here.", John smiled at him. "The watering can is in the greenhouse." Cornelius nodded and went off to the little greenhouse. Returning shortly, he watered the beds one by one.

After that, they returned inside for tea. While John set the kettle Cornelius went to wash his hands.

When he got back, the tea was ready. John sat at their little dinner table, smiling at him. "I can't do much of the cooking, but I can provide tea at any given time." Cornelius smiled, it was the first time today he actually smiled.

"You look sad today." John's voice was quiet, as always. Cornelius felt something warm filling his chest.

Seems like he doesn't notice, Cornelius thought for himself. It was true - he was feeling some kind of melancholy, but the warmth in his chest was slowly working its way through it, slowly sliding it away. But he didn't want him to press any further. "I appreciate your concern.", Cornelius told him coldly, "but it's not something I wish to speak about. Not today." Startled, John drew back and Cornelius felt the soft warmth of John's words leaving his chest apruptly. "I…I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." John murmured, head down, but then his head shot up again. "I did use it again, did I?" Cornelius didn't answer that. They both knew now.

They were silent for a moment. Then, John shyly looked up again. "I am deeply sorry. It sometimes… slips out. It wasn't intended in any way." Cornelius just nodded. He knew that. And John knew that he didn't mind it. He stood up. "I will go on a little walk. Expect me in time for dinner." John nodded and stood hastily, knocking their tea cups and the kettle over in the process. The cups weren't damaged, but the kettle spilled the tea right over Cornelius' hands. With a strangled hiss, he drew back. His hands burned, twitching and shaking. "Cord! Cord, can you hear me?" Oh. He must've blacked out for a moment. The older man looked up. John stood there, a wet towel in his hand and his eyes filled with concern. Cornelius drew in a shaky breath, slowly calming down. "I'm okay. The tea only burned them slightly." That was a lie and John knew it. He gave his friend another concerned look and Cornelius gave in, holding out his burned hands.

Gently John removed his gloves, gasping when he saw the red, ugly scars, scattered across the hands of his friend. When he looked up, the expression on his friend's face - pale and unfocused - was like a stab into his back. John slowly released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Cornelius Villadsen, focus on me. Now." John gently put his hands on his friend's shoulders. "I am here. You are safe. Nothing will hurt you. Come back to me. Come back. To me. Please."

___________________________

The return to reality was slow and somewhat painful. When Cornelius remembered how to breathe especially. A gasp, followed by a hoarse cough forced him on his knees. Something, someone was there with him, on his side the entire time and he leaned into the presence the second he realised who it was. John. Hands on his back and shoulders steadied him, guided him.

Breathing was a little easier now. He slowly looked up into the younger man's eyes. They were filled with worry and for a brief moment, Cornelius wasn't aware why. Why did John look like he was about to cry? What had happened? Then, the memories came crashing down. The tea kettle. The still very hot tea. His hands. His hands. He drew in a painful breath. From afar, he could hear John's soothing voice.

"Cornelius! Hey, stay with me! You need to calm down for me once again." John tried his best to keep Cornelius from another episode of panic and fear. Whatever it was that put his friend in this position, it was bad. The older one had started shaking again, not as bad as before, but still. "Stay with me", John called out again. "Let's get you up from the floor." Easier said then done. Even though Cornelius was slowly working with him - which was a good sign and John found himself incredibly thankful for that - the dark-haired was still a good bit taller than he was. It proofed to be difficult but he managed to bring Cornelius to the living room and on the couch where he practically slumped down on. John sat down next to him and waited patiently until the other's breathing had calmed.

Remembering something, John hurried into Cornelius' room to fetch another pair of black leather gloves as well as some balm and bandages for the burns.

When he returned, Cornelius was sitting up, weakly leaning against the back of the dark red couch. John slowly approached him and sat down again.

"You don't have to talk about anything.", John spoke quietly after a moment of silence. "I just want to know you're okay." A weak nod. "And I want you to know that you're safe. " The with me was unspoken but they knew it was there.

"I am half human, half ocean-born. My mother loved me dearly, I could do no wrong in her eyes. My father on the other hand… He didn't want a half-blood son. And he would make me the center of everything bad that occurred. My mother…" Cornelius' voice broke down momentarily, "…he was abusive, to me as well as to her. I tried to take most of it, but at some times… I wasn't able to protect her from his violence." John moved closer, his hands came to rest on his friend's shoulder once again.

"My father would put boiling water over my body, stating that since it was water, I would be able to deal with it. On other days he would simply beat me. I was grateful every time it turned out to be one of those days…

When I was eleven, my father would cut the webs between my fingers, one of the most distinguishing marks of me being a half blood. The wounds would bleed for hours. Once they were slowly healing, my father cut them open time and time again until they would no longer heal and regrow.

I left my home at the age of fifteen, never coming back. It was mere days later that my parents were found dead, my mother drowned in the bathtub and my father, who had hung himself."

Silence fell over them with Cornelius staring into the void and John not really knowing what to do with himself.

His friend seemed lost in thought. It was then that John noticed a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. The physician was a little flustered as well. John cautiously leaned forward and tapped his friend's shoulder lightly. "Cord?", he asked in a soft voice, "are you alright?" Weak and fearful eyes slowly blinked at him, the dark shadows more apparent than usual. "I'm okay. I just need… to… lie down for a bit.", came the answer as Cornelius begun to lay down on the couch. John nodded, putting a blanket over his friend. "Would you like some water or tea?" "Tea would be lovely." Cornelius' voice was barely more than a faint whisper and John really started to worry for about his friend.

When John returned with the tea Cornelius gifted him a faint smile. "Stay with me, my friend.", he said. With a nod, the younger man seated himself on a little stool beside him. "Will you be alright?" Cornelius nodded. "Sometimes it can get like this. When I am stressed, let it be from work or from this", he gestured at himself, "I sometimes get a slight fever. But do not worry, it should leave in about two days." John was relieved, knowing that his friend wasn't severely ill and would recover soon.

"I want you to know, that, whenever there is something on your mind, you can talk to me about it. I mean if you want to, of course." That earned him a real smile. John smiled back at his friend. "Sleep now, Cord. It will do you good." He will get better, John thought to himself. He just needs a bit of time.

And indeed he did. The next day Cornelius was already feeling better, although still feeling slightly drained from the event. But, as he said, after the second day he was back to his normal self.

John never brought the incident up and inside he knew his friend was grateful for it.

So he just kept it that way.

#shizuuu: oc tag #shizuuu writing #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #snzblr #tw scars #tw ab*se #tw depressing stuff #the tws for your own safety #read with caution

[shizuuu]

I'm a little late, but 🎉, 🤩, 🛒 if you would, please!

🎉 is answered here

🤩 Who is your favourite character to write? Definitely John and Cornelius. They are just too cute! But maybe that will change once I write more of Decim and Naraceliá? We will see...

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, scenes, feels, etc.

Ooh, that's a good one! I think the cottagecore vibes are the strongest theme I incorporate whenever writing John. Also the whole "coming home and someone is ill" aspect - I am a big fan of that. Themes to add: poetry, bibliomancy and books in general.

Thank you very much for the asks!😊

#ask shizuuu #shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #naraceliá #decim

[shizuuu]

If you will, 15, 21 and 40 for John and Cornelius, maybe?

Thank you soo much! Here we go!

15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

John definitely rehearses anything he says, even if he is with Cornelius, which he considers to be one of his closest friends. It has to do with his gift (which I haven't even mentioned here yet!). More on that is in the works.

Cornelius doesn't speak that much, but if he does it's on the spot. He just voices out what he thinks and is no fan of unnecessary details.

21. Why do they get up in the morning?

John is very simple. He wants either to write, to tend to his little garden or something like that. He is a morning person and wants to live in the moment I guess.

With Cornelius, it depends. He had difficult episodes throughout his life and sometimes he is just a little bit overwhelmed and just stays in his room (not bed) until that passes. But he has come to terms with some parts of his past (not everything as we have already seen). He mostly gets up in the morning to show the world he survived yet another day. And because he doesn't want to upset John.

40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Uuh, that one is difficult bc I haven't really worked on their flaws bc of creativity lack but oh well! I think that they both would be rather sensitive with Cornelius being the one who tries to hide it and John being the one who can't hide it that well. John will get upset over his flaws more easily probably.

Thank you so much again for the ask! That was fun! \^_^/

#shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #snz ask #thank you so much!

[shizuuu]

Character Sheet: Cornelius Villadsen

Character’s full name: Cornelius Villadsen

Reason or meaning of name: Villadsen means "Son of Villad" "will, desire - battle, combat"

Gender: male

Race: human mixed with an ocean-born (still need a name for it)

Character’s nickname: Cord

Reason for nickname: When he first met John, he wore a suit that looked similar to a cord suit. John mistook it for one and, when he could'nt remember his name, he called him Cord. He is the only person who is allowed to call him that and only when Cornelius is in a good mood or when John is worried about him.

Birth date: 13. November

Physical appearance

Age: 34

How old does he/she appear: 32

Weight: 76kg

Height: 1,83m

Body build: muscular and a bit thin

Eye color: dark grey

Glasses or contacts: glasses for reading

Skin tone: very pale, almost grey

Distinguishing marks: his horns, scars on his fingers, gills, dorsal fins (the remains of it) on his back

Predominant features: little dark creme-colored horns (Elfen Lied style)

Hair color: black with grey strands

Type of hair:

Hairstyle: loose ponytail, shorter hair in the past

Voice: low with a little hiss when he's angry

Overall attractiveness: hot (Mads Mikkelsen vibes)

Physical disabilities: no

Favorite outfit: dark coat

Jewelry or accessories: black or dark grey gloves to hide his scars

Family

Mother: deceased

Relationship with her: tried to protect him from his father, she helped to hide his oceanic features from him.

Father: deceased

Relationship with him: not a good one, he was an alcoholic and treated them both (Cornelius and his mother) badly before drowning himself. He was a human and he couldn't accept his racial-mixed son. He was the one who cut the webs between Cornelius' fingers.

Siblings: none

Personality

Optimist or pessimist? don't know yet

Introvert or extrovert? kinda both, though more on the introvert side

Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil when he travels sometimes, which caused some trouble before. If there are any people involved that he cares about, he will get more catious for their sake.

Logical or emotional? Despite his gruff appearance, Cornelius is quite emotional, though him being a physician he acts very logical most of the times.

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? neat, definetly neat

Prefers working or relaxing? working

Confident or unsure of himself/herself? not really but has issues with his scars. Other than that, no

Animal lover? loves Johns horse Shortcake

Day to day activities

His job: physician

First thing he does in the morning: Opening the window of his room, then getting coffee as fast as possible

Morning person or night owl: definetly not a morning person, though coffee or tea could help with that

Is he currently living with someone? John William Bradshaw

Does he do chores? Which ones? They share the chores. Cornelius does the dusting and chopping down wood and gets groceries.

Habits when sick

Do they drink tea? sometimes, is more of a coffee person

What is the first sign that they are sick? sleeps less

Will they push through or succumb easily? His immune system is quite strong so he rarely gets sick. If he gets sick though, it hits him hard.

Other illnesses: he sometimes gets a fever if stressed physicially or mentally

#shizuuu: oc tag #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #snz character #oc character #not as big as john's #need to work on that

[shizuuu]

Will you do 📓 for me? And can I ask for 💤 from the last sheet? For Cornelius if you might?

Here we go!

📓 Write a typical diary/journal page by your OC! (or if you’d rather not, describe their journal. Do they keep one, why?)

Cornelius owns a notebook where he keeps all his physician stuff in. It's a black hardcover notebook with lines. He also has a calendar to keep track of his patients and one notebook for cooking recipes. The one for recipes is dark turquoise.

John owns multiple notebooks. One for his poems and two for gardening. Well I say he owns one for his poems but he has already filled three others. His notebooks for poems are pretty with engraving on the outside and illustrated insides. On the bottom of the pages are illustrations of flowers or birds. The covers are mostly red or brown. In the gardening ones he draws a lot.

I will do the other part of your ask separately! Thank you Mimi!🖤

#ask shizuuu #shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #character asks

[shizuuu]

💀John and Cornelius please

Thank you! Now, here we go!

TW Death mention/abusive family member memtion

💀 Has your OC ever lost anyone to death? Multiple people? People close to them? How does the loss make them feel?

Uuuh, this is a good one. Yes, Cornelius lost his parents (which is very stereotypical now that I think of it 😅). He doesn't mind losing his father as he was not in good terms with him. His father abused both his mother and him. He misses his mother sometimes though, when emotions do get the better of him. Cornelius tried to protect her at all cost. Which he couldn't in the end. It is a major dent in his mental health at times.

John on the other hand didn't lose anyone, HOWEVER there was an accident in which he and his sister were involved, he almost lost her. And he kinda is the reason for that accident, so yeah not a good spot there either. Also John refuses to speak about it.

Thank you very much for the ask! That was fun!

#ask shizuuu #shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs #character asks

[shizuuu]

🥺for the ask meme

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

The tea moment with Cornelius' hands would be it. That was just - hard to write and equally hard to imagine. But on the other hand I like emotional whump, soo, couldn't help myself!😅

I also really love the deep friendship between John and Cornelius.

Thank you so much for the ask!😊

#ask shizuuu #shizuuu: oc tag #john william bradshaw #cornelius villadsen #snz ocs