#rubbish removal London

[ukrubbish]

♻️ Embrace a Zero-Waste Lifestyle! 🌍 | Your Guide to Sustainable Living

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[wecollectrubbish]

Rubbish collection and disposal may seem mundane, but maintaining a clean and healthy environment is an important aspect. Improper rubbish disposal can have several negative consequences, from pollution to health hazards.

[mtcremovalsposts]

Rubbish Removals london 

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We are fully authorized by the Environment Agency to remove, transport, and dispose of all forms of garbage from across London and the surrounding areas. With cheap costs and a large team of professionals, we provide a speedy, efficient, and responsible waste clearance service.

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[bigbenblog]

Streamlined Rubbish Removal Solutions in London

Welcome to Big Ben, your reliable partner for efficient and responsible rubbish removal services in London. Our commitment is to provide a hassle-free solution for the disposal of unwanted items, ensuring a cleaner and more sustainable environment for both residential and commercial spaces throughout the city.

Our Services:

Residential Rubbish Removal: We understand the challenges of managing household waste. Our residential rubbish removal services cater to the diverse needs of Londoners, offering timely and reliable solutions for the disposal of unwanted furniture, appliances, garden waste, and general household clutter.

Commercial Rubbish Clearance: Businesses in London can rely on us for swift and professional commercial rubbish clearance services. From office furniture and electronic waste to construction debris, our team is equipped to handle various types of commercial waste, ensuring a clutter-free and organized workspace.

Builders Waste Removal: Construction projects often generate a significant amount of debris. Our builders waste removal services are tailored to efficiently clear construction sites, removing rubble, materials, and other waste, allowing your project to proceed smoothly.

Green Waste Removal: For eco-conscious clients, we specialize in green waste removal. Whether it's garden waste, branches, or other organic materials, we ensure responsible disposal through recycling or composting, contributing to a more sustainable approach to waste management.

Electronics Recycling: In line with environmental regulations, we offer electronics recycling services. Safely dispose of old computers, printers, and other electronic devices, ensuring that hazardous materials are handled responsibly and that valuable components are recycled.

Why Choose Big Ben?

Prompt and Reliable Service: We understand the importance of timely rubbish removal. Our team works efficiently to schedule pickups at your convenience, ensuring a swift and reliable service.

Licensed and Insured: Big Ben is a licensed and insured rubbish removal company, giving you peace of mind that your waste will be handled legally and responsibly.

Environmentally Friendly Practices: We are committed to minimizing our environmental impact. Through recycling initiatives and eco-friendly disposal methods, we strive to contribute to London's sustainability goals.

Transparent Pricing: Our pricing is transparent and competitive. Receive a clear and detailed quote for your rubbish removal needs, with no hidden fees.

Customer Satisfaction Guaranteed: Our focus is on exceeding customer expectations. We take pride in delivering high-quality rubbish removal services that leave our clients satisfied and their spaces clutter-free.

Contact Big Ben today for reliable and responsible rubbish removal services in London. Let us handle the disposal, so you can focus on enjoying a clean and clutter-free environment.

[ps-enviro]

Know the various types of rubbish removal services!

From industrial giants to domestic properties everyone creates waste every second of every day and it has to go somewhere. Various types of rubbish are produced in London that needs to be removed by the Rubbish Removal Services providers. 

Effective waste removal services will ensure waste that is well managed and appropriate and alternate options are explored before resulting in a landfill. Businesses and waste removers alike work towards preventing waste, reusing materials and recycling viewing landfill as a final option. 

Businesses creating waste are legally required to manage it and that’s why waste removal services and managers are in high demand. They help businesses sort waste without the hassle and can process a range of waste and supply various removal services that serve as the ultimate solution to House Clearance and Rubbish Removal services. 

Various types of waste removal

Almost all kinds of waste can be removed that are created from commercial activity or construction, demolition, industry and agriculture industries. In order to be compliant business waste must be properly dealt with care. 

Businesses are encouraged to reduce waste through utilizing the waste management hierarchy and placing emphasis on reusing and recycling. Another type of waste removed by House Clearance Service London includes general waste, hazardous waste and recyclable waste. It is anything that poses a threat to the environment and human health, requiring specific care and handling. 

Services of waste removal

Depending on the type of waste and quantity different methods of removal may be appropriate. Once a business has assessed the waste it produces from general to hazardous or recyclable it can be removed by the waste removal service providers.

Trade waste bins

Useful for businesses with variable waste amounts, trade waste bins are large and can be emptied according to a contract regularly. Different bins can be allocated for different waste, ensuring that recyclable waste is separated by Rubbish Removal Services providers. 

Bins hired from waste removal services are also very scalable allowing businesses to simply hire more if their waste increases. You will find these services popular for commercial businesses because they are easily movable, scalable and adaptable for recycling.

Skip hire

Skips for hire can be brought to business premises, filled at a rate the business requires then removed. Skips give businesses the freedom to remove their waste at a rate that suits them with flexibility in the drop-off and pick-up dates.

House Clearance Service London will require a permit from the local council so before hiring one you must be sure to check the permissions. 

Hazardous waste removal services

It requires particular attention to ensure the waste has no harmful effects on people or the environment. Hazardous waste removal services offer collections to handle bulk liquid disposal, recycling and battery disposal amongst other removals

When concerning hazardous waste a business must perform a waste management audit to recognize hazards and the best way to dispose of them.

Find us!

When you are looking for House Clearance and Rubbish Removal services in your area then you must visit our website and connect with our experts.

[rubbishwaste]

Efficient rubbish removal in Kingston | Rubbish Waste

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[fayes-fics]

Textual Encounter

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Text fic. Wrong number meet-cute over text.

Warnings: none... this is fluff and humour.

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Fic request fill for Anon (HERE). I kept it fun and fluffy, but yeah, I can see a sequel where they sext. Thanks to @colettebronte for the read-through. Enjoy! <3

Y/N: Hey Liz, it’s y/n y/l/n. Kindle Spa gave me your mobile. Said you had moved to another salon. I don’t trust anyone else to wax me tbh. Big date this week, kwim 😉 Can I get an appt? I’ll come to you. Doesn’t matter where. 

BB: Errr, I think you have the wrong number…

Y/N: Not Liz?

BB: Nope, Ben here. 

Y/N: Not a waxer, I presume?

BB: I may have waxed lyrical in my time, may even have lit a few candles. Have not waxed anyone no - my own body or anyone else’s. Yet. But I’m game to try anything once...

Y/N: Lol.

BB: Big date, eh?

Y/N: ….Yeah. Not that it's any of your business, stranger Ben.

BB: Fair. BB: Does it hurt?

Y/N: ??

BB: Getting waxed.

Y/N: Oh. Yeah. Like a motherfucker. But you sorta get used to it, tbh. And it’s so much less itchy than shaving regrowth, especially in sensitive areas… Wait, why am I having this convo with a complete stranger?!

BB: We don’t have to be strangers. BB: I’m Ben, 33, London. BB: I have no strong opinions on hair removal methods.

Y/N: lol. K. I’m y/n, 28, also London. Y/N: I, as you can see, do have some opinions.

BB: Hi y/n 👋 BB: I hope you can find Liz. Or someone else to assist with your hair needs.

Y/N: I would like it stated, for the record, I’m not hairy like a troll. I just like to keep things neat.

BB: The lady doth protest too much…

Y/N: You are cheeky for a stranger.

BB: Hey, I thought we agreed. Not strangers. Me Ben. You hairy troll.

Y/N: BLOCK.

BB: Just typing it doesn't work, you know.

Y/N: You should work at the Apple Genius Bar.

BB: Hmm, possibly. I do look good in blue. Or so I've been told.

Y/N: Always glad to provide career counselling.

BB: 🫡

4 days later.

BB: How’d your date go?

Y/N: That's odd. I don’t see a Genius Bar appt in my calendar…?

BB: iCal is a lying bastard. BB: I also assume you now can move faster through water.

Y/N: ??

BB: Waxed smooth like a dolphin…?

Y/N: 😆 Y/N: Entirely none of your business, but yes, actually. Well mostly. I leave some. Why am I telling you this?! Y/N: The guy was such a dud tho, I didn't get to show it off 🙁

BB: Please don't stop on my account. This is just delightful.  BB: I apologise on behalf of all men.

Y/N: For what?

BB: Having 4 sisters, I find the safest answer here is usually… everything, of course.  BB: But specifically, your rubbish date.

Y/N: Apology conditionally accepted. Y/N: 4 sisters?! 

BB: Only conditional? What do I gots to do to make it unconditional? BB: Yeah, I know… I’ve got 3 brothers too. My parents were really into each other. 

Y/N: IDK, serve a mean martini? Y/N: Understatement.

BB: That could be arranged. I took an online mixology course during lockdown.  BB: My sister El declared I'm better than Stanley Tucci. Admittedly, that was after 4 espresso martinis… but I'm taking it. She's opinionated but the best one. They are a weird bunch tho 🤔

Y/N: WOAH WOAH WOAH. That's a bold claim.

BB: Well, there’s only one way to dispute it: try one for yourself…

Y/N: Smooth, Genius Bar, smooth.

BB: I do my best 🤷

1 day later.

Y/N: I can't get my AirPods to work.

BB: You do realise I didn’t actually follow your career advice?

Y/N: Urgh. Inconvenient. What use are you then?

BB: As I said. Cocktails. I’ll try my hand at waxing if you want.

Y/N: Best stick to the day job. Which is…?

BB: Graphic design.

Y/N: Oh, that’s quite cool. 

BB: It pays the bills. You?

Y/N: MI-5

BB: Wow, you're a shit spy.

Y/N: It could be an excellent double bluff…

BB:

Y/N: Oh, we’ve graduated to memes now, have we, Genius Bar?

BB: It was called for.

Y/N: I’ll take it. Purely cos it's a Hemsworth.

BB: I would too, tbh.

Y/N: Bi?

BB: For a Hemsworth? Always.

Y/N: Anyone else?

BB: I’ll keep you posted.

Y/N: I'm on the edge of my seat.

3 days later.

BB: Oscar Issac.

Y/N: Good non sequitur evening to you, too, Genius Bar Ben.

BB: For the bi thing.

Y/N: Ahh. Got it. I can respect that.

BB: This is me, btw: www.instagram.com/benbridgerdesign.  BB: Figured you can decide for yourself if I'm a creeper.

Y/N: Appreciated.

3 minutes later.

Y/N: You paint?

BB: I dabble

Y/N: Modesty will only make me like you more.

BB: You like me?! 🥹

Y/N: You didn't mention you were handsome.

BB: There is no way to respond to that without me sounding like a twat.

BB: But thank you 😊

Y/N: This is me: www.instagram.com/ynhandle 

7 minutes later.

BB: Oh, Amalfi is so beautiful, isn't it?

Y/N: Wow. That's a deep cut. How far did you scroll back??

BB: 👀

Y/N: Yeah, it's beautiful. Shame it's tainted for me now. Was there with an ex.

BB: I saw. Very handsome.

Y/N: Are you sure you're not just into men full-stop?

BB: 🤷 BB: You’re very pretty, too.

Y/N: I’d believe it if you didn't mention my “very handsome” ex first…

BB: I call it like I see it. BB: I have had 4 whiskeys, tho, so make of that what you will.

Y/N: On a school night?!

BB: It’s my brother Ant's birthday. This is like non-optional drunk, I’ll have you know.

Y/N: Happy birthday to him. 

BB: He says thanks. He’s also told me to get off my fucking phone. Which is rich. He is texting his wife nonstop.

Y/N: Hah! Safe travels through Whiskeytown, BenBridger 🫡

BB: I kinda miss Genius Bar…. 😞

Y/N: I can't win…

2 days later.

BB: Settle an argument for me.

Y/N: 🍿

BB: Col, younger brother, never stops eating... He claims Katz Deli is overrated. I argue it's touristy but still good. You’ve been. Where do you sit on this matter?

Y/N: You really did go thru my Insta, didn't you?? Y/N: Thanks for the follow, BTW.

BB: It's a compliment, I assure you. BB: Welcome. And same.

Y/N: Not complaining. And yeah, I agree with you, actually.

BB: Hah! Excellent!!

Y/N: Wait… your older brother is Ant, and your younger brother is Col? You’re Ben. So, like ABC?

BB:  … I already warned you my family was weird.

Y/N: You did. You did.

BB: Now, please excuse me while I go gloat.

Y/N: 👍

5 mins later.

BB: Hi. This is Col. You must be the famous y/n. Ben’s in the bogs, and the mug left his phone on the table unlocked, so this is on him.  BB: He like really likes you. Like a lot. Will you go on a date with him pls? 

Y/N: Err, ok, hi Col. Y/N: Umm, I think Ben should be the one to ask me that. Don’t you?

BB: He’s too scared you’ll say no.

Y/N: I won't…

BB: EXCELLENT.

2 minutes later.

BB: I am so SO sorry about that 😬 He’s such a shit. BB: But… do you mean it?

Y/N: Ask me properly…

BB: Would you, y/n, like to go on a date with me? Please?

Y/N: I would be delighted to Ben. 😀

BB: 🙏 BB: Are you free on Thursday? Could I take you to dinner?

Y/N: Sounds wonderful. 

BB: 7pm? Meet at Picadilly Circus? By Brasserie Zedel?

Y/N: I’ll be there 😀

BB: 😀

10 days later.

BB: I think you should know… Liz is an artiste 😮‍💨

Y/N: Stop texting me from my bed, you dork. 😘 Y/N: How do you take your coffee?

BB: I'm like 10 meters away. Why not just ask me?

Y/N: You started this, Genius Bar…

BB: Come back to bed, Mostly Hairless Troll.

Y/N: I asked for that, didn't I? 🤦

Benedict taglist, pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[onlypaywhatitweighs]

We are fully authorised by the Environment Agency to remove, transport, and dispose of all forms of garbage from across London and the surrounding areas. With cheap costs and a large team of professionals, we provide a speedy, efficient, and responsible waste clearance service.

[gorubbishgo]

Rubbish Removal London by Go Rubbish Go - Go Rubbish Go

Discover hassle-free rubbish removal solutions across London with Go Rubbish Go. Our team offers swift and efficient services to cater to all your waste disposal needs. Trust Go Rubbish Go for dependable household rubbish removal in London. From old furniture to general waste, our experienced team ensures prompt and reliable clearance services, leaving your home clutter-free. https://gorubbishgo.co.uk/

[bigbenblog]

The Importance of Rubbish Removal in maintaining a clean environment

Rubbish Removal Central London: Efficient and eco-friendly rubbish removal services in Central London. We handle all types of waste, ensuring a clean and clutter-free environment for homes and businesses in the heart of the city.

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[shadowtriovibes]

Hi, could I request a oneshot of female!MC in a toxic relationship and Sebastian angry/in protect mode after seeing a bruise on her, and going after her bf? As he confronts him he reveals his love for her in his heightened emotions. MC catches up in time to overhear everything and to stop Sebastian from killing him. Ending with fluff and MC ditching him for Bash?

Thank you, I love your blog!! 💖

hello anon! thanks for the request — obviously the topic is a little sensitive so please mind the tags before reading! 🤍

a guy like you should wear a warning

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, magical fights and physical fights, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort

“You know why I’m here,” he says simply. “Did you seriously think you wouldn’t have to answer for that? She’s bruised.” A brief flicker of fear passes over the boy’s face as sparks fly out of the end of Sebastian’s wand, but quickly it’s smoothed over with a haughty grin. “So she told you, is that it?” the boy asks. “Poor thing, I should’ve known the ‘hero of Hogwarts’ couldn’t take one fight before running off to her little guard dog.” “You call that a fight?” Sebastian demands. “Looked a little one-sides to me.��

It’s bad enough that Sebastian has gotten used to seeing you confidently wear the collection of scars you’ve accumulated during your time at Hogwarts.

In fact, the very first time he’d met you, he’d noticed the thin scar that runs from your eyebrow down to the middle of your cheek. It’s the first thing that most people notice about you when they first meet you, he assumes, which is frankly an insult to your eyes.

Eventually you told him that your scar had come from an attack you’d withstood back in London – the very attack that brought Professor Fig to you in the first place, and that had resulted in you learning about at Hogwarts. Some of Rockwood’s men had tried to corner you just off Diagon Alley when it had occurred, and while Wiggenweld had been helpful in making sure you didn’t lose your sight in that eye, the swift Diffindo you’d taken to the face would always leave a mark.

You’ve also got a burn on your forearm from a particularly rough round of Cross Wands. Sebastian loathes that he’s responsible for it, even though you insist that you’ve grown to rather like it.

“It’s a badge of honor,” you joke, delighted by his residual guilt. “I’ll always remember that I ended up winning that round, won’t I?”

There are countless others, too: a thin scar by your lip where a particularly aggressive poacher had decked you while wearing an ostentatious ring, a fading mark on your ankle from angry Mongrel’s bite, and a small round burn from the tip of an Ashwinder wand right above your left hip that he’d only once caught a glimpse of.

By now Sebastian has seen just about every mark on you. (Hell, he was there when you got half of them.)

However, that familiarity means he’s quickly able to spot when there’s a new mark on you — especially where one shouldn’t be.

That morning at breakfast, he’s too preoccupied by the lush pile of cinnamon scones in front of him to get a good look at you when he first arrives. Given that he’s simply rubbish at Astrology, he’d been up late charting the stars to prepare for his N.E.W.T.s and had only just arrived near the tail end of the meal.

He’s already shoved half a scone in his mouth before he realizes Ominis is sitting beside you looking grim, one hand gently resting on your shoulder. On your other side, Anne is murmuring quiet reassurances to you while you press a cold compress to the right side of your face.

“It’s not that bad,” Anne says softly. “Just dab some Wiggenweld on it and it won’t even leave a scar.”

“Merlin, what happened to you this time?” Sebastian asks.

Anne shoots him a warning look as you sheepishly lift your head, gently removing the compress to show off an angry red laceration on your cheek. He hisses sharply – that looks like it hurts.

“It’s a long story,” you mumble.

“I’ve got time,” Sebastian says easily.

He hopes he’ll hear another story about how you’d been unable to sleep so you slipped out in the middle of the night to take on a lingering poacher camp, or maybe you’d attempted to sneak one of your baby Graphorns into one of the last remaining dens along the Clagmar Coast and failed to avoid detection.

Instead, you just avert your eyes.

“W-well, I guess it’s not really a story,” you murmur. “I was just running late to breakfast this morning and I, um… tripped, and those stairs are harder than they look.”

Sebastian frowns. You don’t keep many secrets from each other these days, but he can still recognize when you’re not telling the truth. Besides, that rapidly-bruising cut is clearly from a smack to the face, not a tumble down the stairs.

Anne pointedly clears her throat and takes the compress from your hand, tenderly pressing it to your cheek without another word.

When Sebastian looks across to Ominis, he’s surprised to see his friend’s sightless eyes peering back at him purposefully before he subtly shakes his head.

Not many people know that Ominis has quietly been studying Legilimency for several years. It was actually Professor Hecat who had suggested it in the first place, noting that his inability to interpret body language made dueling significantly more dangerous for him. Obviously saw Legilimency as a tactical advantage, but for Ominis, it was something infinitely more nuanced – a form of magic that his family hadn’t tainted, to start.

Indeed, Sebastian is surprised that his closest friend would have invaded your mind without your explicit consent, but he would be the first to admit that if he had such a skill, he would have done the same thing.

A beat later, Sebastian hears his best friend’s voice echo inside his head as he says, She didn’t fall. It was him.

His vision goes red, and his hand is on his wand before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“Bash,” Anne warns as he stands up from the table. “Don’t.”

“W-what are you doing?” you ask quietly, and as you peer up at him, the compress slips down your face.

As soon as he sees your wound again, there’s nothing anyone at that table could possibly say that would stop him from tracking down that sanctimonious Gryffindor prick you’ve been dating for the past few months.

Sebastian had been quite shocked indeed when you’d announced that you had started dating a boy you’d met in Hogsmeade near the start of term. Of course, the shock stemmed from the fact that you were apparently the last of your little quartet to learn that Sebastian was hopelessly in love with you.

You remained ignorant and had let that smooth-talking, arrogant twat into your circle without so much as a second thought, Sebastian had thought bitterly. He’d had to watch miserably as you spent less and less time with your fellow Slytherins in favor of being plied with attention from him and his cacophonous troupe of utter wankers.

Of course, Sebastian knew he was only dating you because you were the “hero of Hogwarts” and not because he actually liked you. He’d tried to tell you that once, and predictably it had gone rather horribly.

(Specifically, you’d hexed him so hard that he’d had to spend the night in the hospital wing because he couldn’t stop belching up flames).

But now it seems like his motives have shifted. He didn’t just want to date you – he wanted to control you.

Maybe you had indeed snuck out the night before, hoping to simply have some time alone with your thoughts while you patrolled for stray camps on your broom. And perhaps when you overslept and arrived late to breakfast, he pulled you aside and said that he was sick of waiting up for you, that it makes him look bad in front of his friends, like you don’t respect him. And maybe for good measure, he’d told you that you may have more powerful magic than him, but he certainly doesn’t need a wand to remind you of your place.

A quick glance at the long Gryffindor table across the room informs Sebastian that your boyfriend is long gone, perhaps anticipating that bruising you like that will come with swift consequences. Ignoring Anne’s protests and Ominis’ gentle warning to stick to legal spells, please, he stomps off toward the Grand Staircase.

Ultimately he tracks down the rotten sod in the Transfiguration courtyard, pompously leaning on the fountain like he doesn’t have a very precise bounty on his head.

“Get up, you feckless git,” Sebastian growls.

He’s already drawn his wand, and the rest of your gutless Gryffindor’s posse quickly scatters several meters away.

“Sallow,” he drawls. “What’s the problem today?”

It’s no secret that Sebastian is not a fan of the boy, though Ominis frequently bends over backward trying to encourage him to be polite for your sake.

“You know why I’m here,” he says simply. “Did you seriously think you wouldn’t have to answer for that? She’s bruised.”

A brief flicker of fear passes over the boy’s face as sparks fly out of the end of Sebastian’s wand, but quickly it’s smoothed over with a haughty grin.

“So she told you, is that it?” the boy asks. “Poor thing, I should’ve known the ‘hero of Hogwarts’ couldn’t take one fight before running off to her little guard dog.”

“You call that a fight?” Sebastian demands. “Looked a little one-sided to me.”

“You and I both know that if she’s wanted to, she could have tossed me into the air and slammed me right into the ground without lifting her wand,” the boy reminds him, standing up from the fountain and slowly reaching for his own wand. “But she knows better.”

Oh, Sebastian is sincerely going to enjoy this, he thinks.

Before the other boy can properly aim at Sebastian, he quickly casts a merciless Depulso at him and sends him skidding into the fountain – but not before crashing into the tranquil Wyvern statue that sits in the middle.

When he emerges, waterlogged and swearing up a storm, he sends a vicious Descendo across the courtyard to Sebastian.

Of course, Sebastian Sallow didn’t earn his title of reigning champion of Cross Wands by being unable to dodge such a simple spell.

The next curse he casts burns hot when it’s expelled from his wand.

“Confringo!” he shouts.

Flames flicker at the edges of your boyfriend’s robes and he yelps, panicked, before clumsily stamping out the fire with his soaked cloak.

Sebastian gives him no time to recover. “Flipendo!”

He goes sailing through the air and lands in the grass at the base of a gnarled tree, his wand abandoned by the fountain.

“You’re pathetic, Sallow,” he taunts. “All this for some whiny little slag?”

All of a sudden there’s a taste in Sebastian’s mouth that sends him reeling. It’s metallic, like blood, and stings a bit like an electric current. He remembers that taste – it precedes an urge he hasn’t felt in years, a spell he swore he’d never let cross his lips ever again. But it’s there, begging to be cast, practically daring him to silence your tormenter permanently.

He stomps over to the spineless, hunched-over prick with his wand drawn, pointed squarely at the boy’s chest.

But then he hears your voice call out, “Bash, stop!”

Both boys turn just in time to see you dash down the stairs into the courtyard, Anne and Ominis on your heels.

“Stop,” you repeat, and Sebastian can see that you’re trembling. “He’s not worth it.”

He murmurs your name, distracted just enough to lower his wand almost imperceptibly. Unfortunately, it’s enough for the boy beneath him to roll out of his aim and pull himself to his feet. Then he swings at Sebastian, disarmed and desperate.

Sebastian tastes very real blood in his mouth this time — his lip has split, he realizes.

Then he laughs, which unsettles just about every onlooker in the courtyard.

“Mate, you can hit me all you’d like,” Sebastian says dryly. “But I haven’t got any compunction about hitting you back.”

For someone who generally agrees with Ominis that wandless violence is uncouth and uninspired, Sebastian packs a mean punch. He hears the twat’s nose break as he collapses to the ground in a heap, evidently knocked out cold.

Anne gasps. Ominis sighs, dissatisfied.

You, however, are completely silent.

“He deserved it,” are the first words out of Sebastian’s mouth.

As he carefully flexes the fingers of his bloodied hand, he adds, “He deserved much worse, actually.

“Sebastian, that’s enough,” Anne hisses. “You won, let’s just drop it.”

He desperately rakes his hand through his messy curls. Once he catches his breath, he carefully approaches you.

You look frozen in place — in fact, you’ve hardly moved a muscle since Sebastian had called out to you.

“I didn’t want you to see that,” he says quietly. “But I meant it. He dared to lay a finger on you, he had to answer for it.”

You nod carefully and barely flinch when Sebastian lifts a finger to trace along your bruised cheek.

“Bash,” you whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he says quickly, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“I’m sorry you had to handle him,” you say softly. “I wanted to, I would have, I just... At first I wasn’t even sure if it was real. I couldn’t believe that someone who loved me would say things like that to me, or hit me like that.”

Without thinking, Sebastian scoffs and says, “He doesn’t love you, I love you.”

Sebastian didn’t think those bewitching eyes of yours could go any wider, but once again he’s wrong.

“W-what?” you stutter.

“I — I just meant, someone who loves you wouldn’t put their hands on you,” he insists, mentally cursing his own existence. “A-and I’d never hurt you, obviously, so–”

“You love me?” you whisper. “Truly, Bash?”

He’d imagined finally telling you the truth so many times, but none of those scenarios involved Ominis, his twin sister and about forty other students watching with bated breath.

“I mean… yeah,” he laughs softly, deciding to reach for an aloofness that might allow him to maintain a shred of dignity. “Thought it was pretty obvious that I’ve been mad about you for ages.”

But before you can respond, you hear Professor Weasley emerge from her classroom and exclaim, “What in Merlin’s name is all this commotion?!”

You take Sebastian’s hand and start to tug him toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower in hopes of sparing him what would surely be several weeks of detention. The rest of the crowd quickly disperses and offers you much-needed cover; fortunately you’re able to spirit Sebastian away up to the Room of Requirement without being stopped.

“Sit,” you instruct him once inside, gesturing to a small round table with mismatched chairs. “You’re still bleeding.”

Sebastian touches his lip as he takes a seat and discovers that it indeed stings. You return with a rag and a bottle of Wiggenweld, dabbing some onto the cloth and gingerly pressing it to his lip.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Sebastian,” you say carefully. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, go on,” he agrees.

You stubbornly wait until he meets your gaze before you ask him, “Did it ever occur to you that there might be a simpler way to tell me that you love me than nearly killing my boyfriend in front of half the school?”

He waits a beat before admitting, “Honestly? Not really.”

You smile ruefully and use the rag to wipe away the rest of the blood around Sebastian’s mouth. Once you inspect his wound and confirm that the potion has firmly sealed up where it had split, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Before you can pull away, he murmurs against your lips, “But he’s not your boyfriend anymore though, right?”

You simply roll your eyes at him and toss the rag against his chest so he can return the favor.

[ricardian-werewolf]

Thank you for answering my ask @corpsebasil - here’s how my idea of that prompt is going: basically my idea is based HEAVILY on the 1995 Richard III set in the 1930s where he’s a fascist dictator.

Kate Beckinsale plays Cecily-Anne. She’s jaded and also unsure of her political leanings in her father’s hellscape; but I love her!

*********

London, 1931.

Cecily pushed her chair back from the desk, and swiveled aimlessly in her seat.

On the desk before her sat a simple, cream embossed letter headed with the seal of a two headed eagle grasping within its claws a mace and three arrows. Three rounds of checks by her father’s advisors had ensured the letter to be free of toxins or poisoned ink. Still, she dug around in her desk drawer and removed a pair of simple, inexpensive leather gloves.

Slipping them over her hands, Cecily held the paper between her thumb and forefinger, and began to read the beautiful calligraphy that spilled across the page. She’d been expecting this letter since she was a mere 3 year old girl, and her father, as compos mentis as he was in 1916, had signed her away in a betrothal deal to secure England’s future.

He’d mistakenly assumed the nation-state to be a mere emissary of the Russian Empire, which would collapse within a year's time. But this state had problems of its own. A swathe of darkness that covered the entire middle of the country and created two from one single state, brought what seemed to be endless war down upon the people’s heads. It was no place for an English princess to marry into. Its royal house, while eight centuries deep into the ground, was small, and prone to marrying one's own cousin. So, the King - Alexander III, had spread his net out into Western Europe to provide a wife for his small, royal spare of a son.

Rumors spoke of a sickly boy, prone to creating chaos wherever he went. Apparently also the black sheep of the family, the boy had left court at 16 to join the army as an enlistment. Some rumored him to be harboring Grisha abilities, but since he was the spare, no one bothered testing the poor thing. Regardless, he’d done his two years of service, seen action in the northern expanses and then gone off to apprentice with a Fjerdan shipbuilder and Zemeni gunsmith. The rumors from court also proposed that he spoke 7 languages and couldn’t sit idle. But, he was charming enough to manage to hold out on this proposal for a shocking 15 years.

Maybe no one assumed Father would remember it’d be a thing he would bother to keep in his head once he got corrupted by the desire to kill his brothers?

Cecily shook her head. Her father was a murderer and power-hungry, but he wasn’t stupid. His bloodthirsty behavior masked a cold and calculating mind that could turn entire armies to fleeing the battlefield with their tails between their legs. He’d been the first to use mustard gas on the Lancastrian forces in the wake of the Great War, but since the Lancastrians mainly polled from men not drafted into the BEF, no one had any idea of the ways gas could be combatted. Yorks’s army of veterans slaughtered the lancastrians at Barnet Heath easily enough.

But now the Wars of the Roses had come to a bloody and frightening end. Cecily rubbed her arms with her palms, and stripped off the gloves. Casting them into the rubbish bin across her solar, she picked up the letter, kicked her heel-clad feet up onto the desk, and began to read the letter from one Nikolai Lantsov.

To Her Highness, Princess Cecily-Anne of England, Lady of Gloucester and Oxfordshire, Princess Royal.

Cecily harrumphed in pleasured surprise. It was something to write to her so openly, but at least it seemed this Prince had done his research. Too many others simply went by “Her Highness,” and left it at that. The added nicety that made Cecily smile was that he’d gone for the correct spelling of her name. Too many called her Cecile, which while the french spelling, was something entirely different. She scanned the letter further.

Instead of inquiries into her health; studies or the like, Nikolai Lantsov had instead endeavored to inquire about which books she loved to read. Did she have a preference for history? Her languages, he hoped, were numerous, and he inquired into her love for certain types of guns in hunting. Archery seemed to be a particular favorite, along with tinkering. Cecily slid open her desk drawer and rolled a small glass cylinder between her hands as she stared down at the letter further. The longer paragraphs inquired about what she did in school, was she privately or publicly educated? He hoped to know if she had gone to university. Had she served in any capacity for the state or civil service? Could she drive, or was she chauffeured? How was her governess? Harsh? Kind?

Cecily spun in her chair and continued to read, grimacing to herself. How the letter had gotten past her eagle-eyed father perturbed her. Unless…

She shook her head. Impossible. He wouldn’t dare send her off to Ravka to get rid of her. She was important to her father. Too important. Though she hated his fascist leanings with a blinding passion, Cecily couldn’t conceive of the idea that her own father would marry her off simply for convenience. But he was a man of centuries. She was, too. In a way. Shaking her head again, Cecily sighed, and dropped the paper back onto her velvet-desk cover. She got to her feet and moved to part the curtains.

Glaring out over Bloomsbury, the English Princess Royal licked her upper teeth, and rubbed a hand over her eyes. If she was being married off as a means of convenience, at least her husband wouldn’t be a bore. She’d tracked Nikolai Lantsov’s childhood with the same detail the Cheka did to anti-communist dissidents. She knew all there was to know about him, and she knew also that Ravka’s beloved royal spare princeling needed a wife desperately. This must have been done behind her back.

Whipping her gold wire-framed glasses off, Cecily pressed her forehead to the cool glass, sighing deeply. The letter awaited a reply. She would need to give it at least a day’s thought, though some part of her wanted to give a simple telegram back containing just one word: Yes. She would shirk the shackles of fascism for the wilds of a country lurching towards hopeful democracy. Balls and promenades would fill her days. She’d need to brush up on her Ravkan before she left. And if she showed just too much interest, her father could cancel the wedding on the grounds of defection. She must not appear to be overjoyed over a chance of breaking from her fathers’s fascist roots. At least, not yet.

There would be screenings. Ravka must appear gullible to the mantles of English Fascism. The ideas of Molesey and Spode had to whet the Ravkan palate. According to the papers, a communist sect of the Duma was in talks with Nikolai to be the major political party. Nikolai advocated for restricted capitalism or democratic socialism, taking from the Nordic states and their programs that worked to offset the Great Depression. He must appear to squash them.

How Cecily hungered to send more than a cursory note back indicating her interest!

She returned to sitting at her desk, pulled pen, paper and ink bottle to her, and began to pen a note in Old Ravkan. Let her father’s spies attempt to translate that! She copied out the bare bones of the letter in English, and had Nikolai’s title written out on that envelope. Slipping it into her outgoing mailbox, Cecily pocketed the other letter and grabbed a stamp from her upper desk drawer. She was just about to place it on the English envelope when a knock came at her door. Right.

Lehzen.

Her governess, cruel, callous, and somehow not a hundred year old vampire - yet she acted as such. Cecily rolled her eyes and settled back in her chair. She did not kick her feet back up on the desk, nor did she slouch. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and she pushed her spectacles up her nose to hide the evident glint.

“Come in.”

The double doors swung wide and in a swirl of 1850s woolen skirts and black velvet edging, Louise Lehzen marched into the room. Stopping once on the edge of the persian carpet, the governess curtsied to her charge, and then sat herself neatly in the wing-backed chair opposite Cecily. Whipping open a vietnamese-esque wooden-hand fan, Lehzen rapped the fan’s ribs on the edge of Cecily’s desk.

“Your correspondence to Prince Nikolai?”

“There,” Cecily pointed to the English note, and watched Lehzen examine it.

“You have no stamp. How are you planning to send it? By carrier pigeon?”

Carrier volcra. All the rage in Ravka apparently since the last Sun Summoner hopped the twig on her first Fold crossing. A shame. She was a cartographer and all!

“Here.” Cecily held up her pointer finger, to which the penny stamp was stuck. Lehzen sighed.

“You are much too old for your childish games, Princess.”

“I could say the same, Baroness.”

That retort earned her a hard whack across the knuckles with said fan, and Cecily winced, refusing to show the pain in her face. She shakily unfolded her clenched fist and breathed out in a steady stream through her nostrils. The longer she held out, the less painful it would be. The Baroness was getting into her twilight years and Cecily knew that she was the last person this woman would ever dare to educate. Nevermind that it wasn’t much beyond the greatness of the British Empire and how to run a household of hundreds of servants, ensure that the finances were set and a million other little things. Lehzen had doubted the likelihood of Nikolai continuing as Cecily’s betrothed.

Nikolai had proved everyone wrong, and Cecily gloated in that fact.

Finis.