#henri lécuyer

[faofinn]

No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS

@whumptober

@whumptober-archive

Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

One of the men looked over at Henri, who was enjoying the way Harrison’s chest heaved and he struggled to cling onto consciousness. “Boss, he doesn’t look too good…”

He tutted. “Again.”

“Boss?”

“I. Said. Again.”

Harrison couldn't hold on. He was going to die, and that, apparently, was that. He coughed and spluttered, giving a final, desperate attempt to get free.

They let him struggle for a little longer, before Henri raised his hand and the water stopped once more. 

“Sit him up.” He ordered, and the men rushed forwards to lift the chair he was sat on. 

The change in position was the final straw for Harrison. His head lolled forward as his body gave in, and he slipped into empty blackness.

Satisfied, Henri looked at his men. “We’ll leave him, let him reflect for a while. Looks like we’ve found our in.” He said. 

The men filed out, leaving Harrison alone in the middle of the room. Now they knew they could break him, things seemed easier. They just had to get their information before the Daniels caught wind of where they were. 

Harrison struggled as he came round, disoriented and confused. His hair dripped down his face, and he flinched every time. He was soaked through, the chill seeping into his bones. 

The peace didn’t last long for him. They watched him carefully as he came round, Henri particularly interested in the way he flinched every time his hair dripped water into his face. Perfect. They waited until he’d just started to drift off again, clearly exhausted from the day, and slipped inside. It was simpler than before, and Henri hung back as they emptied a bucket of water over Harrison’s head. 

He shouted in shock, jerking backwards and almost tipping the chair over. It took him a moment to catch up, confused and more than a little terrified. He caught sight of Henri, of the stupid grin on his face, and he lowered his head again. 

He reached forwards, fingers below Harrison’s chin to raise his head. “Hello, Carlos. Back with us, are you?”

Harrison had nothing to say, no sarcastic comment or smartarse remark. He didn't look Henri in the eye, he knew he'd been beaten. 

“No stupid comment? I was enjoying them.” He purred. “Are you going to talk to me now?”

He shook his head, his voice cracking. "No."

He hummed. “Come on, I can tell you’re desperate to get out of here.”

"I'd sooner die."

“Be careful what you wish for.”

"Stop teasing me."

“It’s not fun otherwise.” He murmured. “We all love a tease.”

Harrison pulled his head away. "I've had enough."

“That’s fine, just tell me what you know.”

"I don't know anything."

“You do.” Henri purred. “I know you do.”

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't let me go."

“I might. I’m sweet, really. I’ve not touched you, hmm?”

"You broke my nose." He managed a wry smile. "Think that's enough.'

“I can make things worse.”

"You can stop with your games. I've got nothing to tell you."

“You’ve told me that lie a hundred times now. I don’t believe you.”

"You'll kill me before I say anything."

“We’re careful. We don’t want you to die.”

"I'm as much use dead as I am now."

“That’s just not true.”

"It is. You think the Daniels want me? Of course not. And everyone else just uses me for their shit they don't want to have to do."

“You’re only here because the Daniels want you. Doing their dirty work for them, no?”

"They pay me to do what they don't want to." He raised his head. "That's all."

“Lying really isn’t a good look on you. Which is a shame, because you’re pretty.”

"Flattered, but you're not my type."

“I’m everyone’s type.”

"You've really got an ego problem, haven't you?"

“Are you going to talk to me? I know you know things.”

"I know you're an arsehole." 

“Now now, let’s not be rude.”

"And a hypocrite."

“Let’s see if we can change your feelings.” He said, trailing his fingers down Harrison’s arm.

Harrison clenched his fists, glaring at Henri. "Doubt you will."

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I can be very persuasive.” He said, digging his nails into Harrison’s hand, aiming to get him to open his fingers.

He knew exactly what he was aiming for, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Despite his best efforts, Henri managed to pry his fist open. "Fuck you."

“I thought I wasn’t your type?” He said, and grasped his thumb, quickly twisting it back until he felt it break. 

Harrison couldn't help his whimper, despite his jaw clenched tight. The audible snap made his stomach turn, but he knew it was only the beginning.

“Oh, did that hurt?”

"No."

He laughed. “Sure, if you say so.” He grasped his index finger this time, and again pulled it back until it snapped. 

"I can't tell you anything."

“I know you can. You might be the Daniels’ dog, but you’re a smart man, you hear things. Just tell me.”

"I don't know anything." 

“I think I’ll break a bone for every lie you tell me.”

"Then you're a cunt." Harrison managed a grin. "That's not a lie."

“I think I can live with that.”

"And you'll regret this."

“I’m not regretting it so far. Actually, I’m rather enjoying it.”

"Then you're a psychopath too."

“As though you’ve never done this. I know what you’re capable of.”

"Do you?"

“You’re just like the rest of them.” He said, pulling a knife from his pocket, which he used to cut the bindings from Harrison’s wrist. 

Harrison didn't move, watching Henri closely. "Am I?"

“You have to be.” He said. “They say it takes a lot of force to dislocate a shoulder, but really it’s all about the biomechanics. How you use your body.” His voice was cold, almost disinterested, as he gripped Harrison’s wrist.

His eyes widened, and he tried pulling his arm back. He'd be fucked if Henri did dislocate it.

He chuckled. “You could tell me what you know. When are your next deals happening? When is your boss meeting with his buyers?”

"I don't know. I'm not part of that."

“Of course you are.”

"I'm not. I'm really, really not."

“Where was it you said you’d been? France? I know you work internationally for him. You’ll know when the meetings happen, who the buyers are.”

"I went to get pissed. Not on business."

“Hmm. It’s a shame you lied.” He purred, putting his other hand on his bicep. He was firm as he extended Harrison’s arm, twisting it back behind him until he found the point where the muscles stopped the joint. “Tell me the truth.”

"I did."

“Except you didn’t. You can’t even remember your own lies.” He said, and twisted, forceful enough to feel the joint clunk out of its socket. 

Harrison gasped in pain, the room spinning as the blood rushed in his ears. "No."

“See? Easy enough. It’s just how you use your body.”

He hung his head, each breath a whimper. He'd known Henri would find a reason, but he'd pushed it too far. Harrison couldn't keep doing it, he was close to breaking, but he knew he couldn't say anything. 

“Still nothing to say to me? That’s alright, I’ll let you catch your breath.” He said, gripping the disfigured shoulder firmly. He dug his thumb into the muscles around the joint. “So stoic.”

Harrison retched, spitting onto the floor. The movement only dug Henri's thumb further in, making the pain so much worse. 

“Alright. I’ll be back later.” He said, and clapped him on the back before he headed out, stepping delicately through the mess. 

Harrison gave a quiet groan, dropping his head. Henri wasn't going to give in without a fight, and Harrison was struggling to keep his mouth shut. 

They left him like that for a while. Henri knew full well the pain would get worse the longer the shoulder was out of joint, and with the fingers too, he’d be in a whole world of pain. They’d wait just long enough for him to lose consciousness, and then they had more water waiting. Sleep deprivation was a powerful tool. 

His arm pulled with each breath, and the residual coughing from the water made it even worse. Despite the pain, he began to drift, and he wasn’t convinced it was just from tiredness. He couldn’t keep his thoughts straight either, his confusion only growing. It worried him, of course it did, aware Henri was only doing it to loosen his tongue. 

They left him like that for a while, watching how his head lolled as he tried to cling to consciousness. He was close to breaking, they knew that. Once they were happy he’d had long enough, Henri sent another man in with another bucket of water, this time ice cold. As before, they threw it straight over his head, laughing. 

Harrison screamed as they did so, the pain and trauma overwhelming him. His jerk awake had pulled his arm yet again, his hands automatically trying to clench into fists. The pain was too much, blackness growing in his vision as he slipped under once again.

They’d not expected him to black out again after the water. But, Henri supposed, it showed how broken he already was. He strode in after the men, watching the water drip from Harrison’s hair and clothes. It was easy enough to rouse him, they just needed more pain. Henri could certainly do more pain. He grasped Harrison’s fingers, twisting those that were already broken. 

The stab of pain cut through the darkness, and he groaned, slowly raising his head. He wasn’t surprised to see Henri by his side, and he glared at him. 

“Ah, there we go, that’s better.” He said brightly. “Didn’t like the water?” 

"Like you would."

“Perhaps, but it’s you that has to deal with it, not me.” He said, moving to stand in front of him. “You’re starting to test my patience, Carlos. Are you going to tell me anything?”

"I've already told you no." He said weakly. 

“That really is a shame.” Henri said, drawing his gun. 

Harrison looked up at him, eyes wide. "I can't tell you anything."

“You know I hate it when you lie.” He clicked the safety of the gun off. 

"I'm not lying." 

“Oh, but you are.” Henri said. ���I could kill you. But I think maybe by now that’s what you want. What could I do instead, hmm?”

"Does it matter?"

“I’ve taken away one of your arms, and, well, you’ve already sorted one of the legs for me. I suppose with no prosthesis it’s going to be hard to walk… especially if something were to happen to your good leg.”

A well aimed shot could easily take his other leg away, permanently. Or, Henri could miss what he was aiming for and kill him anyway, let him bleed out in the cell. 

Henri pressed the muzzle of the gun into his thigh. “What do you think?”

Harrison swallowed thickly. "I can't tell yu anything."

“Can’t, or won’t?”

"Can't." His voice wobbled slightly. "I really can't."

Henri tutted. “That really is a shame.” He said, and pulled the trigger. 

"Harrison!" 

Through the ringing of his ears he'd almost convinced himself he'd heard Steve, Fred shouting orders behind him. It wasn’t real, of course it couldn't be. It was just a figment of his imagination, his mind making something better up rather than facing his reality. 

He didn't realise it was his scream at first, dizziness threatening to overwhelm him once more. He dropped his head to his chest, sobs wracking his body as he gave in. Henri had done it, he'd broken him, he'd finally broken him. 

It wasn’t Harrison’s imagination. After days of searching, they’d finally found where they were holding Harrison. Fred had gone himself, Steve as backup and medical. It wasn’t hard to see how he felt about Harrison, he was pretty obvious. Fred knew full well he wouldn’t be able to stop him coming. 

The door to the holding cell was forced open with a well placed kick from Steve’s boot, and his heart dropped as the gunshot echoed around the room. He’d shouted, and shot, but missed. 

Gun forgotten, he fell to his knees in front of Harrison, Henri already vanished. 

“Harrison. Fuck, Harrison.” He breathed. The gunshot hadn’t been fatal, thankfully. Steve didn’t have to lose another son. He couldn’t. He fumbled to get something, anything to stop the bleeding, spilling through his fingers. There was so much of it, too much. 

Harrison was barely conscious, each moment he'd come to, pain would push him straight back over again. He gave a quiet whimper as hands pressed against his leg, unable to do anything else. 

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts. You’re okay, we’re going to get you home. I promise. We’re getting you out of here.” He fumbled with the bandages as he did his best to sort things. 

“Fred! We need to go, right now!”

"Busy, Steve! Do what you can!"

Harrison finally spoke, his voice rough and throat raw. "Steve?"

“I’m here.” Steve said, quickly glancing up. “I’ve got you now.”

"Are you here to break me out?" He asked, feeling so small. 

“We’re going to get you home.” Steve told him. “Just hold on for me.” One arm was still bound to the chair, as were both of his legs, where they could. The other hug uselessly at his side, obviously dislocated and clearly fingers broken too. There wasn’t a lot he could do about that here, and now he’d finished his bandage he grabbed his knife, cutting at Harrison’s bindings.

Without his arm tied to the chair, he fell forward, unable to hold himself up. The change in position coupled with the flare of pain left him unconscious again, a quiet groan as he slumped. 

Steve swore. “Fred!” He called more urgently. “We need to go!”

Fred appeared, blood smeared on his face and gun drawn. "Quickly, come on. We've got a window."

Steve hefted Harrison onto his shoulder, groaning at the weight of him. “I just need to get him out. That cunt’s already gone.”

He looked him up and down. "How bad is he?"

“Bad.”

"Could really have fucking used Fao then." Fred muttered. "Come on."

“Shouldn’t be anything I can’t handle.” Steve said, eager to get out. Harrison was freezing cold, soaked to the skin, and he was acutely aware of the blood all over him. 

Harrison let out a quiet groan, dizziness and nausea rising. He still wasn't convinced Steve was actually real, but it was better than the alternative. 

“I know.” Steve soothed. “I’m sorry. We’re going to get you home now.”

[motherofalien-archive]

A Masterlist of Underused French Names

So as a French person, I grew a little bit tired of seeing the same old French names over and over again. So under the cut is a list of 260 (185 first names and 105 surnames) underused French names, based on my experience, with the bolded ones being my favorites! And now don’t get me wrong, many of those names are not strictly French, and are in other languages too. But just know they are used in French too, so they can be used for your French character if needed. And there are obviously a lot of other names you can go for!

Female Names

Agathe

Alexandrine

Amélie

Andréa

Andréanne

Angélique

Anne

Apolline

Ariane / Arianne

Audrey

Brigitte

Cadence

Camille

Cécile

Céleste

Céline

Chantal / Chantale

Charlotte

Chenelle

Christelle

Christiane

Christine

Claire

Clara

Claudie

Clémence

Coralie

Darcie

Delphine

Desirée

Dianne

Élaine / Élène / Hélène / probably a lot of other variations

Éléonore

Éloïse

Émilie

Estelle

Èvelyn

Félicia

France

Geneviève

Giselle

Isabelle

Jacinthe

Jacqueline

Jeanie

Joanne

Joceline

Joséphine

Julie

Juliette

Laure

Laurie

Lavinia

Léa

Liliane

Linette

Loraine

Madeleine

Maia / Maya

Mallory

Margaux

Margerite

Marianne

Marjolaine

Marjorie

Mathilde

Maude

Mélanie

Mélodie

Mélusine

Myriam

Nancy

Nathalie

Noémie

Ophélie

Rachel / Rachelle

Rosalie

Rosemarie

Roxane / Roxanne

Solange

Stéphanie

Susanne / Suzanne

Thérèse

Valérie

Véronique

Violette

Virginie

Viviane

Male Names

Adrien

Alain

Antoine

Arnaud

Baptiste

Benjamin

Benoit

Bernard

Bruno

Charles

Christian

Christophe

Clovis

Colin

Damien

David

Didier

Dilan

Edmond

Edouard

Eliott

Émile

Ernest

Étienne

Fabrice

Félix

François

Gaspard

Gaston

Gauthier

Geoffrey / Geoffroy

Grégoire

Guillaume

Henri

Hubert

Ivan / Yvan

Jacques

Jérémie / Jérémy

Jérôme

Joseph

Jules

Karel

Laurent

Léo

Léon

Léonard

Lionel

Luc

Marc

Martin

Mathieu / Matthieu

Maurice

Merlin

Nathanaël

Nicholas / Nicolas

Olivier

Paul

Philip / Philippe

Pierre

Quentin

Raymond

Rémi / Rémy

Richard

Robert

Roland

Romain

Sébastien

Simon

Sylvain

Thierry

Thomas

Tristan

Victor

Vincent

Xavier

Unisex Names

Carol (male) / Carole (female)

Claude

Daniel (male) / Danielle (female)

Denis (male) / Denise (female)

Dominic (male) / Dominique (female)

Eugène (male) / Eugénie (female)

Fabien (male) / Fabienne (female)

Frédéric (male) / Frédérique (female)

Jasmin (male) / Jasmine (female)

Jean (male) / Jeane (female)

Joël (male) / Joëlle (female)

Jordan (male) / Jordane (female)

Justin (male) / Justine (female)

Louis (male) / Louise (female)

Lucien (male) / Lucienne (female)

Marcel (male) / Marcelle (female)

Michel (male) / Michelle (female)

Noël (male) / Noëlle (female)

Pascal (male) / Pascale (female)

Patrice

Samuel (male) / Samuelle (female)

Valentin (male) / Valentine (female)

Surnames

Adam

Allaire

Allard

Archambault

Beauchêne

Beaulieu

Beaumont

Bélanger

Béranger

Bernard

Bertrand

Blanchard

Blanchet

Boivin

Bouchard

Boucher

Brisbois

Brodeur

Bureau

Caron

Charbonneau

Cloutier

Comtois

Côté

Courtemanche

Cousineau

Couture

Delacroix

Desautels

Deschamps

Descôteaux

Desjardins

Desrochers

Desrosiers

Duboit

Duchamps

Dufort

Dufour

Duval

Fabron

Faucher

Faucheux

Favreau

Félix

Fontaine

Fortier

Fournier

Gagné

Gagnon

Girard

Giroux

Gosselin

Granger

Guérin

Hébert

Jacques

Labelle

Lachance

Lambert

Langlois

Lapointe

Laurent

Lavigne

Lavoie

Lebeau

Leblanc

Leclair

Leclerc

Lécuyer

Legrand

Lemair

Lemieux

Lévesque

Maçon

Marchand

Martel

Martin

Mathieu

Mercier

Michaud

Moreau

Morel

Paquet

Parent

Patenaude

Pelletier

Perrault / Perreault

Petit

Plamondon

Plourde

Poirier

Poulin

Richard

Richelieu

Robert

Rousseau

Roux

Samson

St-Martin

St-Pierre

Taillefer

Thibault

Thomas

Tremblay

Villeneuve

[lecorcure]

–  Que dites-vous donc, Lélia ? Pensez-vous que la terre et le ciel soient coupables de notre décrépitude morale ? Insolente rêveuse, les accusez-vous aussi ?

–  Oui, je les accuse, répondit-elle, ou plutôt j’accuse la grande loi du temps, qui veut que tout s’épuise et prenne  fin. Ne voyez-vous pas que le flot des siècles nous emporte tous ensemble, hommes et mondes, pour nous engloutir dans  l’éternité comme ces feuilles sèches qui fuient vers le précipice, entraînées par l’eau du torrent ?

– Hélas ! Nous ne laisserons pas même cette frêle dépouille ! Nous ne surnagerons même pas comme ces herbes flétries qui flottent là tristes et pendantes, semblables à  la chevelure d’une femme noyée. La dissolution aura passé sur les cadavres des empires, les débris muets de l’humanité ne seront pas plus que les grains de sable de la mer. Dieu ploiera l’univers comme un vêtement usé qu’on jette au vent, comme un manteau qu’on dépouille, parce qu’on n’en veut plus. Alors, Dieu tout seul sera.  Alors, peut-être sa gloire et sa puissance éclateront sans voiles. Mais qui les contemplera ? De nouvelles races naîtront-elles sur notre poussière, pour voir ou pour deviner celui qui crée et détruit !

—

George Sand, extrait de “Lélia”, 1833 (chez Henri Dupuy). Page 185.

—

Illustration : “Grey waters”, Sophie Lécuyer, gravure monotype, avril 2013.

[faofinn]

No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

@whumptober

@whumptober-archive

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

Harrison took a while to come round, the downside of being smacked upside the chin with the butt of a pistol. He gave a quiet groan as he started to gain his surroundings, a bad mistake as the men around him laughed. It was quickly followed by a punch aimed at his ribs, taking the air from his lungs and making him cough.

"Fuck." He managed, head hanging low. Everything was so slow, and he just couldn’t seem to catch up. 

That just seemed to entertain them more, and heavy footsteps approached him. His hands were tied behind him, handcuffed and then roped to the bars of the chair. His legs too were tied, again both together and to the chair. They obviously weren't taking any chances with him. There was a slight flash of pride at that, that he'd got himself such a reputation, but that was quick to disappear. 

A rough hand in his hair yanked his head back, tilting his chin up. The light blinded him, the sudden movement making him more than a little dizzy.

“You’re working for them.” They spat angrily. 

"Oh, that's a bit rude."

“Shut up! I do the talking.”

"Okay, okay." He looked serious for a moment. "So, do you need a talky stick or…?"

That earned him a punch in the gut from one of his captor’s friends. “Stop trying to be smart!”

The hand in his hair didn't help as he automatically curled in, struggling to breathe. "That's no way to treat a guest."

“You’re not a guest.” They growled. “Tell us what you know.”

"I'm good at my ABCs, can do most of the time tables - i get stuck on my sixes despite everything."

“That’s enough!” Another voice called, cold and authoritative. He approached Harrison, looking him over, at the way his men had secured him. “My men must be scared of you. That’s quite impressive.” 

Harrison gave a laugh. "Isn't it just?"

“It’s just a shame I’m not.”

"I'd be worried if you were. But then again, it's like the blind leading the blind, isn't it? Just cowards leading cowards."

“Cowards is a little harsh.”

"Oh, is it? Why don't you untie me then?"

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Henri purred. “You work for the Daniels, and I want to know what you know.”

"I've got no loyalties. I work for whoever pays me the most."

“Then if you’ve got no loyalties, you’ll talk to me.”

"About what?"

“Everything you know.”

"Oh, jeez. We'll be here a while. Can you untie me, then? Maybe get me a coke and some snacks?"

Henri laughed. “No, I’m not stupid.” He pulled his gun, examining it idly. 

"No? Are you sure?" The gun didn't scare him, he was still more bored than anything.

He pressed the gun to Harrison’s temple, clicking the safety off. “You’ll tell me what you know.”

Harrison gritted his teeth slightly, taking a steadying breath as he weighed up the situation. "You'll have to ask better than that. I know an awful lot of things, you know that. Did you want me to start with the alphabet?"

“I don’t have time for you to be a smartass.” 

"So we're not going to talk about university? A- levels?"

Henri jerked the gun, hitting Harrison’s temple. “I want information on supply lines, money, anything.”

He winced despite himself. "I have no idea about that. I'm not part of the planning."

“Of course you are.”

"Not any more."

“I don’t believe you.”

"I've been in Germany for the last few years." He lied. "Why do you think you've not seen my pretty face for a while?"

“Germany? What’s your German like?”

"I get by."

“Funny, I don’t believe that either.”

"Surprising what they'll let you get away with when you fuck them."

He laughed. “Maybe I should’ve tried that.”

Harrison looked him up and down. "With me? No thanks, mate."

“You wound me.” He said. “I’ll leave you with the boys for a bit, I’m sure they’ll give up something to think about, jog your memory. You can find some information for me.”

"Oh, no. Not them!" He rolled his eyes with a snort. "I've got something for you."

“And what’s that?”

He grinned. "You're a cunt."

Henri laughed, then his face darkened and he punched Harrison square in the nose. 

Harrison had expected a retaliation, but not so sudden. He recoiled, slightly disorientated. Blood dripped from his nose almost immediately, his lip split, too. He spat the blood out, aiming for Henri. 

"Definitely a cunt."

He stalked out, wiping the blood from his knuckles, and let this waiting men have their way with him. They didn’t hold back, teasing and mocking him as they had their fun, punches and hits landing across his ribs, his chest, his face. Something to wear him down, get him more inclined to talk to the boss. 

Henri is owned by @epochandeons, with a fun little relation to Ely, which hopefully we'll explore later! he's always fun to borrow when we need a villain; hars describes him best.

[faofinn]

No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS

@whumptober

@whumptober-archive

Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

He stalked out, wiping the blood from his knuckles, and let this waiting men have their way with him. They didn’t hold back, teasing and mocking him as they had their fun, punches and hits landing across his ribs, his chest, his face. Something to wear him down, get him more inclined to talk to the boss. 

Eventually, they got bored of beating him up. The blood lost its excitement pretty quickly, and with Harrison battered and on the verge of unconsciousness, he’d lost his thrill. He barely even grunted now. They left him for a while, keen to let him regain some rational thought before they had another go. He couldn’t talk if he was dead, or unconscious. 

After some discussion with the boss, they decided to try a more unorthodox approach. Everyone knew the Daniels’ men were hard to break just through physical means. They needed to go more psychological. 

Harrison was tired. The assaults hadn't stopped in what felt like hours, but he assumed it was more. His head felt like it was exploding, each rib grated with every shallow breath. He'd thrown up more than once, too, much to the amusement of the others around him. By the end of their fun, he barely had the energy to raise his head. His smartarse comments were toned down and scaled back, too worried that he'd let something slip that he shouldn't. 

When they came back nearly a full 12 hours later, they were laughing. Even Henri was with them, though he hung back and let them do the work. He was just here to watch, he had no intention of letting his suit get dirty. 

Harrison kept his head low, watching the gang enter. He did his best to seem unbothered by it all, but there was more than a little excitement in their attitude - and that worried him. 

They laughed as they shoved the chair to the floor, his head smacking off the floor of the cell. His quiet groan only made their laughter louder, taunts flying. 

From his position on the floor, his view of what was coming next was almost nonexistent. As the cloth was placed over his face, though, he knew exactly what was coming next. 

He could take pretty much anything. He'd endured days of prolonged torture, sleep deprivation, and starvation. But this? He couldn’t do it, and he knew he'd made his bed when he started fighting against his restraints.

Henri chuckled, stepping closer. “I think he’s scared, boys. Have we hit a nerve?” He purred. 

His chest heaved. "You fucking wish."

“Mm, I think I’m right.”

"I don't think you've ever been right."

“I was right about that blonde whore you all protect.” He said, circling him. He knew he couldn’t see, but he’d hear the clack of his shoes over the concrete. “Go on, boys. Let’s see who’s right.” He said, snapping his fingers. One of the men approached, and poured the water over his face. 

Harrison started coughing almost immediately, his fear getting the better of him. He writhed under their grasp, trying to get away. 

They enjoyed the coughing and the struggle, Harrison making it blatantly obvious this wasn’t something he could tolerate like the punches. Henri let them go on for a little longer before he raised his hand, and they stopped. 

“Are you going to talk to us now?”

He couldn't breathe, there was no chance of him being able to talk. He managed to clear his throat enough to gasp for air, tears already falling.

“Oh, look at the state of him already.” One of the men said. “Fucking crying.”

“Looks like I was right, then.” Henri said. “Are you going to talk? Or are you going to sit there crying like a baby?”

"Fuck you." He spat, trying to act braver than he felt. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He teased. “Go on boys, again. We’ll break him.”

"Best fuck you'd get." He retorted, twisting out the way.

“Hold him down.” Henri ordered, and two men moved forwards to pin him before a third poured the water over him again. 

His sarky response was cut short, suddenly choking again. He did his best to stay calm, to remember that this was just his job and he'd be able to get out of it. He'd been through enough before that it would just be added to the list. Or, at least, that's what he tried to convince himself. They didn't give up, and he couldn’t hold his breath forever. He didn’t have a choice but to try, immediately being met with water and more laughter as he choked.

“You can’t hold your breath forever, Carlos.” Henri goaded. 

It was as though all the blood had been drained from him. His fight, too, was gone, one simple word breaking through the barriers he'd made. 

“Oh, was it the personal touch? That name was hard to find, I’ll admit. You’re clever, but I’m persistent, and I’ll get what I want in the end.” Henri purred. “You’ll talk to us now.” He raised a hand and the water stopped again. 

Harrison didn't bother to retaliate, though his chest heaved as he tried to breathe. He wouldn't talk. He couldn't.

“No more sarcasm now, hmm? I almost miss it.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched tight. He owed it to the Daniels to not say anything, as much as he claimed to not have alliances. Henri couldn’t find out, especially not from him.

“Come on now, don’t be shy.” Henri said, moving to take the cloth from Harrison’s face. “Talk to me.”

"Fuck you." He managed, his voice trembling. 

Laughing, Henri rung the cloth out, letting the water drip onto Harrison’s face.

Harrison couldn't help it, flinching away from the droplets. He kept his face turned away from Henri, pralying he'd get bored of him soon.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Henri said, crouching beside him and digging his fingers into his chin to turn his head. 

"Get off." He grunted, jerking his head back. 

That earned him a slap. “Now, now, there’s no need to be rude.”

"You should take your own advice."

“And where’s the fun in that?”

"I'd be having more fun."

“You’re not enjoying this? A shame.”

"Your hospitality has been a bit crap."

“That’s rude.”

"Pretty much just like you then." He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn't let them think he was rattled. 

“We’ll let you go if you just tell us what you know.”

"I don't know anything."

“Don’t lie to me.”

"I'm not."

Henri dropped the cloth, and snapped his fingers. “That’s alright, we’ll jog your memory.”

"Please." Harrison's voice broke. 

Henri grinned. “Oh, we’ll stop eventually.”

"You might as well kill me." His attempts to get free were pointless. "I'm not going to tell you shit."

“I’ve invested far too much time in you to kill you.” He said, moving away as the water was poured over Harrison yet again. 

Harrison fought against the men holding him, against the restraints. He bucked and writhed, but to no use. Henri was wrong, he was going to kill him. 

They poured the water for a long time, with no opportunity for Harrison to catch his breath. Henri could tell that somehow they’d hit a trigger, and he was going to make the very most of it. They’d push Harrison right to the very edge. 

When they finally removed the cloth from his face, he didn’t fight. He struggled to breathe, his vision only growing darker. He didn't have the energy to keep this up, and he knew that Henri was all too aware of it. 

One of the men looked over at Henri, who was enjoying the way Harrison’s chest heaved and he struggled to cling onto consciousness. “Boss, he doesn’t look too good…”

He tutted. “Again.”

“Boss?”

“I. Said. Again.”

[faofinn]

No. 18 MADE TO WATCH (Alt. Prompt 8)

@whumptober

@whumptober-archive

@epochandeons guest wrote this one with shiv, as well as giving us the prompt idea! Isn't she awesome? Enjoy :)

It had gone so, so badly wrong. It was supposed to be a nice day out, just Fao and Ely, enjoying their time together. They rarely got any, with work and all of their other commitments, and so their time together was precious. Rather than spend it in the house, where they’d likely be disturbed by Finn and god knows what else, they’d decided to go out, get away from it all. A nice day in London. Meandering around Hyde Park before heading to Oxford Street to shop. Fao could really spoil Ely, get her all sorts of things she wanted (even though she protested it most of the time). Then they had a nice meal, talking and drinking an enjoying themselves. 

It wasn’t until the evening, when they were ready to head home, that things went sideways. They grabbed Ely first, knowing full well that Fao would fight to help her, and fight he did. He didn’t have a lot on him, given they’d been in town. He didn’t need to bring a whole armoury with him for a nice day out. Or, maybe he did. He had his gun with him, of course, but he was in a busy area, and a gun would just attract attention to them, and not the kind of attention he wanted. 

They were quick to grab him too, despite how he fought back, and they were bundled into the back of a van. Ely looked terrified and he had to admit he couldn’t blame her. He hated this, just as much as she did. At least he was used to it, it wasn’t exactly the first time he’d been taken. At least they hadn’t knocked him out this time, he wasn’t keen on the repeated head trauma. 

He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, glowering at their captors. 

They soon dumped them in a cell, hands bound and ignored. Fao was glad of it, he didn’t want them up in their faces. He knew he’d lose his temper, and that wasn’t going to help. 

Ely looked scared, and he hated it. He tried to comfort her as best he could, but he knew it wasn’t much. They were still stuck, after all, with no explanation of what their captors wanted or why. He didn’t even know who they were. Tomas’ men? Someone Fred had pissed off with a deal gone wrong? He had no idea. It took everything in him not to shout, and eventually someone came for them. 

Henri.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise? The pair of you, enjoying my hospitality.”

“Fuck off, Henri!” Fao snapped, yanking against his bindings. “You’ve no business with us, let us go!”

“Oh, but quite the opposite.  I have plenty of business with you. Unfinished business.” He crossed the room to Ely, crouching in front of her. 

“How are you, pumpkin?” His voice was sickly sweet, and he reached out to stroke her face. 

“Don’t touch me!” She snapped, jerking away from him. 

“Now, now. I taught you better than that, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off.” She spat. 

“Leave her out of this.” Fao said, his voice cold. 

“Why? She’s the whole root of this problem.”

“She’s not! She’s an innocent party, you don’t need to involve her in this. She’s not done anything to hurt you.”

“And yet without her, I wouldn’t have anything to get to you, would I? I had a lot of fun with your boyfriend a while ago.”

“He was never my boyfriend.” 

“No? You sent him to do your dirty work, didn’t you?”

“He does what he wants to do, I don’t control him.”

“That’s what they all say. No matter, I’ve got you now. That’s all I need.”

“Leave Ely out of this, and you can do whatever you like to me.”

“I wouldn’t speak too soon. I need her. It’s no fun just to fuck with you.”

“What do you want, Henri?” Ely asked. 

“Information, pumpkin. This man of yours that you’re so besotted with is quite powerful.”

“She doesn’t know anything! Leave her out of this.” Fao shouted. 

“She might not.” Henri agreed. “But you do.”

Her blood went cold and she shook her head. “He won’t tell you anything.”

“Maybe not at first, but I can get creative.” He gestured to the men waiting behind him, and they moved forwards to grab Ely. They dragged her forwards to the middle of the room, and bound her to a chair. 

“Leave her alone!” Fao shouted. 

She tried her best to struggle, to slip her arms free as they were tied to the arms of the chair. It didn’t work. She was stuck. So she spat in one of the men’s face. 

She hit one of the men square on the cheek, a fat glob of spit trickling down his face. “Little bitch!” He exclaimed, smacking her. 

“Get your hands off of her!”

Grimacing, Ely squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “He won’t say a thing.”

“He will. I just need to find the right way to ask.” Henri said, moving close to her again now she was tied to the chair. “How should I play with you, pumpkin?”

“Fuck off.” She told him. 

“That’s not very kind, is it?”

“You don’t care about kindness.”

“I’ll be kind and I won’t hurt that pretty face of yours.” Henri said, eyes dragging over her. 

“Like hell.” She replied, choosing to be angry over showing fear. There was no point in showing fear. 

“That bastard of yours is a bad influence on you.” Henri scoffed. 

“He’s a good man!”

“I don’t think you understand what it is he does, Pumpkin.” 

“I know what he does.” She replied. “But he’s a good man. A better man than you’ll ever be.”

“I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t realise you were that stupid. Nothing but a stupid whore.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Fao shouted. 

“I’ve not even touched you, and look at him. All upset already. What is it they call you? The Direwolf? Yappy little shit more like.”

“Fred will kill you.” Ely hissed.

“Fuck it, I’ll kill you!” Fao growled. 

Though it was pointless, Ely still tried her luck. “Let us go.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you loved me once.”

Henri scoffed again. “Not anymore.”

“No? You’re jealous. You’re still upset that I left you.”

“I need you for information.” 

She steeled herself. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Henri smiled at her. “I was just thinking of what I could do to you. I’m sure I’ll think of something better, soon enough.” He withdrew a knife from his belt, and then lifted one of Ely’s legs, slipping off her shoe. 

She stared at him, daring him to do whatever it was he was planning. The knife glinted in the low light, but she couldn’t show her fear, so she pushed it down. 

He scored the knife over the sole of her foot, watching the blood bead in the mark he’d made. 

Ely cried out, trying to get her foot out of his grip. “Fuck you!”

“Ah, ah!” Henri warned, gripping tighter as he dragged the knife across her foot again. 

She cried out again. “Get off!”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Leave her alone! Hurt me if you want to hurt someone!”

Henri laughed. “No, I don’t think I will.” He said, and once more dug the knife into her foot. 

“Leave her alone, you cunt!”

Ely watched in horror as he dropped her foot and then lifted the other, sliding her shoe off. 

“You know how to stop this,” he said casually as he did so, “you just have to tell me what I want to hear. There’s no need for any of this.”

“Stop it!” Fao exclaimed, straining at his bindings. “Let her go!”

“Well, that isn’t the right answer. Maybe I should remove a toe.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“No?” Henri asked, dragging the blade up the sole of her foot. The edge found the side of her big toe. 

“Leave her alone.” Fao’s voice was cold. 

The knife bit deeper and Ely shouted, trying to pull her foot away once more.

“Stop it!” Fao shouted, his voice hoarse. 

Henri grinned, and dropped the knife with a clatter. He had other ideas, he’d done enough to stop Ely from getting to her feet. He turned away to pick up a pair of pliers, turning them over in his hand. Then, he delicately took one of Ely’s hands. “There’s plenty of other things I can do.” He tightly grasped a nail, and pulled, hard. 

She screamed as her nail was ripped from the nail bed. “Get off! Stop it!”

Henri laughed, moving onto the next nail, which he ripped out cleanly. “Oh, bless.” He said, voice sickly sweet. 

“Stop! Let her go! Please!” Fao begged.