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(Contains: strong language)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=94OVz1…


So at the risk of sounding like some kind of Grinch, I have to say, I fucking hate Christmas. I think that truly this is the first Christmas where I truly hated this miserable fucking holiday and am feeling my inner scrooge.

Here's the thing, this year, everyone around me in my work place and everywhere I see is struggling financially and are worrying with the damn Christmas obligations of buying gifts for fucking assholes that they don't even like.

For me, part of the benefit of not being on speaking terms with my family is that there are fewer people to buy gifts for. It's my wife and one friend of mine, that's my entire Christmas shopping list. Two people. Makes it a bit easier.

But aside from being surrounded by struggling people being obliged to get gifts for random people, there's another thing I fucking hate. These damn Christmas songs. I fucking hate every last one of them. Every time I turn on the radio there's this forced cheer going on that's like something about of the fucking book 1984, each one of these Christmas songs has been remixed a thousand times and they in no way reflect the stress and frustration of everyone who has to buy gifts who doesn't have a lot of money. And I'm too damn old to believe in Christmas miracles.

I'm starting to think that there is no real "meaning of Christmas" basically we're worshipping a holiday that was stolen from Pagans by Christians and was stolen by Pagans from an even earlier group of pagans that has now been hijacked by the corporate powers that be to sell shitty toys made in China.

I see nothing to celebrate, if we're talking about good cheer and being kind to your fellow man I prefer that to be something that happens year round. Let's year round be kind to each other and be good to those who have less.

And I think like Zen Bhussidm, there's no one meaning of Christmas. Each person has to find what Christmas means to them and make a meaningful thing about it. For me, Christmas means being with my wife, not even thinking about Jesus or other religious bullshit once and playing heavy metal music and Aqua Teen Hunger force videos all the livelong day. I want to be angry at Christmas and be reminded of all the poverty and misery that's around me as the homeless freeze to death this winter. Let's be reminded that we're encouraged to spend more as wages have not risen since the nineteen seventies.

Yeah, this year fuck Christmas cheer and especially fuck the Dr. Who Christmas special after that bigoted, sexist, self absorbed piece of shit Steve Moffat fucked up the whole franchise.

Happy holidays, fuckers.

Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: nudity, sexual themes, violence/gore, strong language and ideologically sensitive material)

Flesh Trade

Disclaimer: I own no third party properties and I do not own any trademarked characters. This story features mentions of rape, death and mental torture. Now enjoy.

Lok Announcer: Tragedy! Young Tahno, former captain of the Whitefalls Wolfbats has been taken prisoner by slave traders! What will he do? What dark fate awaits him? Stay tuned and find out!


Tahno shivered in the cage as Eichhorst laughed at him, trying desperately to shrink away from those empty baby blue eyes. His body shook; he suddenly became aware of how cold this room was and how his breath was visible in the air. Goosebumps covered Tahno's body and he started to huddle in on himself for warmth and for what was left of his modesty.

This in turn only made Eichhorst laugh harder, as he began to walk around the cage to try and view the naked, helpless captive from all angles. "Oh, Tahno," he purred, "You're a sight for sore eyes."

Tahno shook, cheeks burning with shame and pivoting on one foot to try and keep himself as hidden as possible from the lecherous, greedy, psychopathic Yermaniki. He fell to the floor of his cage and shrieked as Mikkelson slammed on the bars with the handle of his axe.

Eichhorst laughed a full belly laugh and then squatted down so that he could look Tahno in the eye. Slowly, the boy sat up in the confines of the cage, meeting Eichhorst's gaze out the corner of his eye; utterly terrified of what would happen if he confronted his captor.

Shaking like a leaf, Tahno's voice sounded weak and reedy; unfamiliar to his own ears. "E-e-Eichhorst . . . p-p-please, you've got to let me out of here." He shook as he held out his hands in what he meant to be a friendly gesture. "If, if I could get talk to M-m-Ming, please."

The European laughed twice as loud, "Let you out? Why the hell would we do that! You're better off right where you are Tahno." He winked, "Before you were just a non-bender, but now we've made you a star."

Varrick stepped in between Eichhorst and Tahno, "Kid, you used to have it all; fame, fortune, any ass you wanted. Then that mean old Amon took it all away from you. Sure we're a little rough but we're doing you a favour." The highly animated business man recovered from his earlier nervousness to find his usual exuberance and animation, "Most of the slaves that we capture either get shipped to whore houses in the Northern Water tribe or in Earth Kingdom factories."

Tahno's eyes popped open, "Slave! You mean you're going to sell me like a piece of fucking property!"

The boy began to hyperventilate, terrible thoughts and scenarios running through his head. He imagined Ming being raped to death inside a Northern Water tribe whorehouse by some religious fundamentalist noble. He thought of Shaozu dying in soot and smoke in one of the Earth Kingdom's sweat shops.

Mind reeling, Tahno attempted to reason with his captors, "You c-c-can't do this." He forced his features into an attempt at a winning smile, "Look, I can be a reasonable guy. I've got the championship pot from the tournament. I-I-I've got a good savings account and some money from betting on myself. Just let me go and—

"Kid!" Varrick shouted in an overly animated way, "You're being bought by Chief Unalaq; one of our biggest clients!" He mused and rubbed his chin as he thought on it, "Unalaq always loved his young boys and girls. Normally he only strangles to death his female sex slaves, but this month his boy toy hung himself, so that's where you come in."

"I told you we'd make you a star, Tahno," Eichhorst said, "Unalaq has more money than Hiroshi Sato and a strict religion that demands sexual suppression of its priesthood. As the head of the Water Tribe religion in the North, do you know how cock blocked Unalaq was before we helped him see the light?"

"That's right, kiddo," Varrick happily supplied, "You're going to be one of the male lovers of one of the biggest men in the world (after me of course) and there's at least a fifty percent chance that he'll treat you okay."

Eichhorst attempted to comfort Tahno in his own brutal way, "Look at it this way, Tahno. Unalaq came to us looking for someone that he could punish and in you we found a fallen athlete accused of cheating. Do you know how much Unalaq paid to have you?"

Tahno began to shake his head, the gravity of the situation too much for him.

This didn't stop Eichhorst, who leaned in excitedly, "Do you know how much you're worth."

The traumatised lad tried to cover his ears, shaking his head harder now; unable and unwilling to comprehend it.

The smile on Eichhorst's face was pure sleaze, "eight hundred thousand yuans, Tahno; that's how much was paid for you. Congratulations, you are officially our most valuable commodity."

"NO!" Tahno screamed and began to shake at the bars of his cage. "I'm not a thing, I'm a person! You can't do this to me!"

"Actually, you're not a person," Eichhorst laughed, pulling a piece of paper from out of his jacket. "According to the official cargo manifest you are classified as livestock; take a look." He held the paper out, using his firebending to provide illumination.

Tahno let go of the bars, controlled by a primal animal urge to get away from the fire in Eichhorst's hands.

"Trust me, my boy," Eichhorst reassured him, "It's best for you if you don't think about it. Conceal, don't feel; you need to keep smiling, do what you're told and you'll be okay. I promise."

The captive young man collapsed from fear and exhaustion. He sat on the cold metal floor of the cage, frozen in fear.

Eichhorst called over to one of the Dutch sailors in their own language. Immediately the warehouse was in a flurry of activity. Someone threw a tarp over Tahno's cage and a Dutchman driving a fork life lifted the cage off the ground; doing his best to try and keep the merchandise safe.

Outside the cage, Eichhorst and Varrick were joined were presented overcoats by a pair of sailors, while a team of local Republic City Hoodlums set about burning all the documents in the office warehouse.

"Destroy anything incriminating that hasn't already been lifted out," Eichhorst instructed the surviving members of the Triple Triads, "We've shipped out most of the slaves but have your men in other warehouses liquidate any merchandise we can't sell. When you're done, you'll be contacted further once this whole equalist blows over."

The few remaining gang members gave affirmative replies of varying enthusiasm and set about to their assigned tasks.

The warehouse doors opened up and Eichhorst, Mikkelsen and Varrick exited.

Inside his cage, Tahno smelled the polluted waters of Republic city harbour and the salty tang of the night air. Curled up in a ball in his cage, he squeaked out a single word, "Ming . . ."

As the heads of the slave trade marched towards the boat, Varrick started to complain. "Where's Zhu-li? She should be here with me? Who's going to massage my feet and bring me a glass of warm milk? Who? Who!"

Mikkelsen growled a little bit at the eccentric tycoon's meltdown. The tall Svalbarder looked ahead under his iron mask. The large cargo ship should have been awash with activity, sailors of all nationalities rushing over it to prepare for the long voyage to the northern Water Tribe. The ship was deserted and the lights were turned off.

Raising one muscular arm, he stopped Eichhorst and Varrick; hefting his axe as he did so. "Wait," he instructed in a gravelly voice.

Then the lights came on, bright flood lights lit up the darkened dock, causing everyone to cover their eyes in shock.

Eichhorst summoned fire to his hands as his vision adjusted to the increased brightness. What he saw made his jaw drop. There on the dock was the entire Dutch crew of the trading vessel. Every last one of the foreign sailors was on their knees, tied up and surrounded by equalists with electric gloves and repeating crossbows.

Standing in front of the group like an angel of death, was the masked man himself, Amon.

Silence took over everything as the forklift carrying Tahno stopped and the two very different groups stopped to face each other.

The silence was broken as Zhu-Li leapt from behind Amon with a crossbow and a murderous rage across her face. "PEDOPHILE! KILLER! I WILL END YOU VARRICK!"

A bolt shot out of her weapon and struck the eccentric mogul in the shoulder. Varrick spun around, crying in pain before falling into the toxic waters of the harbour and being swept away by the outgoing tide.

Mikkelsen reacted, throwing out the large granite block on his back at the equalist crowd. The men and women in gas masks and green uniforms jumped to the side. However a clench of his hand split the rock into multiple pieces maiming many and killing five of the equalists; along with a number of Dutch sailors. The fewer people around to squeal the better.

In response, the equalists fired back rapid fire with their repeating crossbows; weapons that had been outlawed for centuries, even during the hundred years war. In past eras, armies of non-benders had used the repeating crossbows to take on heavily trained but smaller armies of benders; hence the gentleman's agreement on banning the weapons that even Firelord Ozai had observed.

Eichhorst threw up a wall of fire with his bending, melting many bolts, but almost a dozen got through his shield. One bolt struck him in the leg, downing him. Mikkelsen got took a bolt in the shoulder but didn't even seem to notice it as he channeled the berserkerung training of his ancestors.

The Scandinavian charged the equalists, recalling the stone block to shield him from incoming fire so he could close the gap. That however was when Amon struck.

The acrobatic equalist leader lunged at the Svalbarder, dodging an axe strike that could have cut a dozen men in half. The cyclopean obsidian and iron axe disintegrated the dock blanks where it struck.

Mikkelsen's massive strength kicked in as he ignored his shoulder injury and pulled his axe for another strike. The might blade swept through the air, narrowly missing Amon's neck as it cut a three foot thick dock support in half.

Amon jumped under the axe and used his smaller size against the European. He struck with speed and precision, rupturing the giant man's spleen with a well-placed blow in his armour's gaps and striking pressure points in the armpits of his iron armour.

Mikkelsen went down as the equalist leader blocked off his body's vital chi energy. A look of terror and surprise gripped the stoic northerner as Amon tore off his iron mask. The man screamed in terror as Amon took him by the neck and with a well-placed thumb removed the man's bending.

Instantly, Mikkelsen's already pale body seemed to lose its color and the strength left his mammoth body. The Svalbarder toppled, eyes rolling back in his head; powerless and lifeless as when Frigg castrated her father Sigmar.

Eichhorst tried to drag himself away, foaming, swearing and cursing in pain. He saw Amon looming over him and he attempted to laugh a fireball at the man, but somehow he dodged it.

Amon stepped out of the way, letting his equalist soldiers shoot a bolt through each one of Eichhorst's remaining limbs.

The cry of pain from Eichhorst was like the shriek of a carrion bird.

The Yermaniki looked up at the man towering over him, unknowable behind his mask; Zhu-li and a dozen more equalists crowded around Amon to observe their downed prey.

"No!" Eichhorst screamed as the equalists crowded around him, "NO!"


Everyone in Republic city could hear the racket. Hammers slamming drowned out by the sound of men crying. It happened in one of the wealthier neighbourhoods so the police should have been there right away; they were however distracted by a planned series of arson crimes in a richer neighbourhood.

The Dutch sailors and the last remaining triad members were being crucified in front of a popular fashion boutique. Nails were driven through hands and feet and the victims had signs hung over their necks with read "flesh peddler."

The equalists were remarkably efficient and they were soon gone, leaving only a forest of screaming and dying men. A crowd gathered after the sun had risen to watch the grisly spectacle. Word spread to the poorer neighbourhoods and there was much cheering and rejoicing, particular in the predominantly non-bending areas of the city. For the first time in a long time people had reason to hope and knew that someone was working to represent their interests. That Amon freed the slaves who would have been drowned, buried alive or burned to death gave much joy.


In the capital building of Republic City, the Dutch ambassador was desperately trying to answer reporter's questions while shifting the blame of the slave trade away from the Orange Throne and its policies.

Before the media, the dark skinned Dutchman in blue tailcoat and powdered wig attempted to try and keep his cool. "Please! The Orange Throne in no way condones human trafficking in any form! Slavery has been outlawed in Die Nederlands for almost two hundred years."

The reporters though just kept asking; asking why the Dutch Crown Princess did not publicly address the incident, why did the Dutch not do more to crack down on white slavers and were the Dutch trying to covertly take over the United Republic of Nations?

"That's enough!" the Dutch ambassador screamed, slammed a white gloved hand on the podium. "I've had enough of this slander! There will be no further questions."


Amon shut off the radio, smiling under his mask. Events had panned out better than he'd hoped. He'd just demolished a problem that generations of politicians and even Avatar Aang had ignored. The people he'd rescued from slavery and liquidation were now spreading the word of the equalists good deeds. Thus far the opposite side had only the support of moneyed benders from old families; he had the support of the people.

Turning around, Amon faced his captive, tied down to a hair and wearing a hood over his head. Young Tahno so beautiful; Amon had taken him back from the Dutch after crucifying the Dutch slavers and cutting off the head of their leader Eichhorst. Currently, the Yermaniki's head was perched on a fence post in front of the Republic City Capitol building.

The enigmatic equalist leader walked around Tahno like he was stalking him, moving in for the kill almost.

Tightness built up in Amon's belly as he took in his captive. True he'd been kind enough to give the lad some clothes but the urge still resided deep inside of him. He wanted to teach the boy a lesson, but a deeper, more primal part of him wanted so much more.

His mind's eye saw the boy, face slack and throat cut.

Amon froze, trying to control the impulses that came from the part of his soul that powered bending.

Tahno's throat was cut; his blood spewed everywhere as Amon ejaculated thick white strings all over the dead boy's face.

Amon sucked in a breath and steeled himself. He's worked so hard to get where he was now, but the temptation never really went away.

With Tahno's blood, Amon had written the word "whore" on the wall and laughed as he did so.

Amon stopped and the image was banished. In many ways, he was much like Varrick or Eichhorst. The difference between him and them was that Amon knew he had a problem and worked tirelessly to cure himself.

Self-control regained, Amon stepped forth and ripped off Tahno's hood.

The lad's eyes fluttered open, ripped from whatever nightmare had haunted his dreams after his harrowing encounter with the slavers.

Tahno gasped, body wracked with pain and still cold despite the temperature in the room and the itchy but warm clothes he'd been provided. His eyes were puffy, red, all dried up from crying. His tongue felt like sandpaper and his heart felt like it'd been torn from his chest.

"You," he croaked to the masked equalist leader, "You did this to me. Why would you do—?

He was cut off as Amon slapped him across the face. "Shut your fucking mouth," the normally silver tongued man hissed; livid with the purest hatred, "After saving your worthless skin, you owe me a little gratitude."

Tahno shrank from the masked man who trembled with rage and hatred. He was powerless before the head revolutionary and could not help but listen to the madman who'd started off this sordid chain of events.

"I did not do this to you," Amon corrected, regaining some semblance of self-control. "I took away the privilege that you took for granted. If I had not taken away you're bending, Eichhorst and the pedophile Varrick would have taken another mouse-sheep to the slaughter. That's what I hate about you, Tahno and everyone like you; unless it happens to you or your loved ones, the entire world can rot in hell."

He spun around, walking to the back of the small room, lowering a silvery white screen for an unknown purpose. "If you don't speak out against injustice, you profit from it. You've profited handsomely from your privilege, young Tahno; and any grief you had from being a mixed race child is insignificant to the grief of the poverty stricken non-bending women targeted by the slavers or the jobless non-bending teenaged boys taken to die in sweat shops. I feel nothing but contempt for you, Tahno."

Amon eyed Tahno, who was hearing him but not really listening. Amon felt infuriated. Whenever people were confronted with injustice they just seemed to stick their fingers in their ears and pretend to hear and see nothing. For so long he'd tried peaceful methods, but until he'd put on the mask and started breaking necks and crushing skulls nothing had worked.

"For evil to prevail, Tahno, good men must do nothing; but "good" is a charitable label for people like you. Face it, Tahno, you and your team are evil."

"No we're not! Ming and Shaozu didn't deserve this!" Tahno weakly protested, sickened with worry over his best friend and boyfriend.

"Bullshit!" Amon cried out, accusing the boy like an angry god. "Those hapless idiots followed you; a cheat, liar and woman beater and the lot of you were rewarded for it. If I hadn't taken away your bending soon you'd have begun to abuse and hit Ming, just like you did with your past fuck toys."

"No!"

"Yes!" Amon cried, once more losing his composure and feeling his old hungers start to return. "You're a scumbag with no self-esteem and you drag down everyone around you! You're beyond redemption! You are on the same level as the imbecile Avatar shouting that the weak oppress themselves; that the rape victims wore revealing clothing and the poor asked to sleep on the streets. You and others like you are a sickness on this world and you've been coddled too long by the cowards who claim neutrality but really side with the oppressor. For ages the Avatar has been the pawn of the powerful, even the well-meaning ones are at best impotent and at worst enforcers of a stagnant status quo."

"You have no idea what it's like to watch the police smash a man to a pulp when he was an unarmed bender while an affluent firebender can commit murder with a slap on the wrist. You never cared when Unalaq all but legalised rape on non-bending women or when Earth King Kuei started programs to starve non-benders to death to make room for earth benders after the war. Society is sick on every level and radical action is necessary and the Avatar and all benders only steer the ship towards demise." Amon's voice rose to a mad pitch as he began to set up a strange machine with a bright light and a roll of film. "Benders only claim class warfare when the non-benders fight back; their children rule the world while earning nothing and offer crumbs from their table to good little Uncle Tom non-benders. Even a non-bender like Varrick who is accepted by the bending elite got his start by running a series of child brothels for the aristocrats of the Northern Water tribe."

"If you can look at this world and feel good about it, you deserve to die. But I won't," Amon's voice lowered. "Before he escaped justice, Varrick designed a machine that could capture moving pictures. He planned to market these "movers" as pornography for the highly religious and sexist Northern Water tribe and certain elements of the Earth Kingdom where rape and murder of victims is seen as a new craze to masturbate to."

Tahno looked at Amon, speaking out in barely a whisper. "Ming didn't deserve this." He squeaked.

Amon sighed as he walked towards Tahno. "I know." His voice lowered and for once he didn't sound like a silver tongued devil or a mad blood hungry psychopath. "I wish that things were different." He sounded like he was about to cry himself, "I wish I hadn't needed to become what I am."

His arms hung by his side, almost like he was defeated. "I used to be a bender," Amon confessed, "I used to think that bending was the most wonderful thing in the world and that I could use my bending to help others; but my bending only fed my hunger for domination. I unlocked all my chakras when I was younger and shut off my bending but it's still there inside me. I have had many privileges that others have not and for that I beg forgiveness from the spirits every day. There are days that I wish that I was dead."

He sighed . . . and began to laugh. "But when you see what happened to Ming and Shaozu," he began to laugh louder and louder, like some twisted clown. "You'll see . . . hahaha! You'll see why I wear the mask!" His laughter spiraled higher and higher; "Varrick called it a snuff film, enjoy."

Moving faster than any man had the right to, Amon grabbed Tahno's head and began to attack a harness mean to hold the boy's head in place and hold his eyelids open. Immediately, a saline drip began to leak moisture slowly into Tahno's eyes.

The boy screamed in protest, he was well beyond any kind of reasoned arguments or protests; he was ripe for the slaughter.

The mover projector lit up and a countdown lit up on the screen. Tahno then had the pleasure of seeing the snuff films that Varrick was planning to make a fortune off of.

The black and white footage was grainy and blurry, without sound. There on the screen like a spirit vison was Shaozu, naked and trembling. Tahno would only watch helplessly as two Fire Nation men entered the set and began to shock him with agonizing but painful bursts of lightning. In the mover, Shaozu's skin became black and charred from repeated lightning strikes, tears visible on his face even with the low picture quality.

Tahno began to tremble, wordlessly suffering as he watched video footage of his comrade's suffering. After about ten minutes, the Fire Nation men left and a pair of Water benders entered from the Southern Water Tribe. The pair of them rolled the bound and tried up Shaozu on his side and began to sodomize him with water tentacles; one of them shutting up his screaming by shattering his teeth with an ice fist and then jamming his cock into the bloody, broken, toothless maw of Shaozu.

A pair of earth benders joined and began to cut Shaozu with obsidian knives while the water bender mouth fucked the de-bended boy. One Earth bender gouged out the boy's left eye and shoved aside the water bender to make love to the eye socket.

Tahno twisted and wriggled in his seat, whimpering incoherently and alternately offering up prayers to the spirits to stop all of this.

Shaozu's death came after about thirty minutes. He'd been cut up, raped, tortured and finally strangled to death with bare hands.

His mind splintered even more as Amon changed the films and began to play a movie of Ming.

"Stop! I'M BEGGING YOU!" Tahno howled as the snuff mover starring Ming began. This one though had a clearer picture and more importantly, sound.

The bound and captive Tahno could hear as Ming cried for mercy as two giant men from Svalbard ass raped him without any kind of lube or preparation. He could only listen and watch as Ming screamed for his mommy as a Firebending Manitoban castrated him and cauterized the wound with his fire.

This mover lasted nearly an hour in which Ming was raped in the ass multiple times, had all his limbs cut off, was pissed and shit on by over a dozen men and that was just in the first fifteen minutes.

The snuff film became more and more lavish as Ming's eyes were gouged out and men from all Nations, from Xing and Europe took turns torturing and raping him. It was even worse when bending women were allowed on set; they turned out to be more creative than the men and fingered themselves to climax multiple times while inflicting the worse humiliations and agonies to Ming. One water bending woman actually used Ming's severed penis as a dildo. An Earth Kingdom woman cut a hole in his belly and rubbed her clitoris over his exposed intestines. Likewise an earth bending woman from Texas scalped him before defecating in his gory, empty eye sockets.

Tahno's screams were useless; nobody could hear him but Amon and there was still a half hour left on the mover.


Avatar Korra put on a forced smile as she entered Tahno's cell at the Republic City Mental hospital. Tahno had very good health insurance so he got prime treatment at the nuthouse.

"Hey Tahno," Korra greeted the comatose young man in a strait jacket. Tahno simply stared out into space, drooling on himself like an infant.

"Look, I know we were never friends, but, um—I'm sorry about what happened to you." The words sounded painfully fake to her ears and all the rehearsal she'd done was for naught. Korra honestly had no idea how to relate to Tahno or help him; whatever Amon had done to him had broken his mind. Tahno couldn't eat or even go to the bathroom by himself.

Korra persisted with the prepared lines she'd written earlier. "Um, I'm really sorry about Ming and Shaozu. The police just found their bodies this morning and um, sorry."

Korra sighed and put her face in her hands as she faced off the unresponsive boy. "Oh fuck it. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here. Amon just shut down a slave trading network that had been in place for almost fifty years. Even Lin Bei-fong and Avatar Aang didn't do that much."

The water tribe girl looked at the comatose patient mournfully, "I'm starting to think that maybe working with Amon wouldn't be a bad idea. I don't know, he's a maniac but he's getting results. I'm starting to think I'm on the wrong side."

No reply from Tahno.

Korra thought aloud further, "Living alone at the South Pole, I never realized what people were going through. It's like the whole world is falling apart and the leaders of the world don't want it any other way. Shit, in any country benders don't make up any more than a quarter of the population at most."

She looked up at Tahno, rubbing tears from her cerulean eyes, "What do you do when you realize that you're the villain? What the fuck do I do when being the Avatar means helping the people who hurt everyone else? Bending is slowly dying out in the world and the few benders left are taking the whole pie."

Korra looked at Tahno with a mix of reservation and epiphany. "I'm going to kill them all," Korra concluded. "I'm going to kill anyone who oppresses others. I'm going to beat Amon by showing them that I'm better than him. I don't know how but I'll kill anyone who knew about the slave trade and did nothing, I'll build an army from benders and non-benders who give a shit about justice and give a shit about people."

The steel in her voice was tempered by fear and uncertainty, "Anyone who's ever given to the poor or helped the weak will join me. The era of Avatars going it alone is done. There's so much wrong in the world I can never fix it. I'll be the first Avatar to bring real equality to the world. And. . . ."

Korra trailed off as she rubbed her temples, trying desperately to organize her thoughts and come up with a plan. Killing Among would solve nothing, without him the equalist movement would continue as long as the social grievances that lay behind it remained. Even electing a non-bender leader wouldn't magic away all of the social problems.

Korra sighed, "I'm going to fix this, Tahno. I'll do right by everyone if it kills me." She stood up and buttoned her coat around her, "It all starts now. I am awake." And it did not feel good.


And that's the end of that!

I wrote this story after first hearing of the riots in Ferguson, USA and the racial problem that persists in the United States. I hate to bring politics into fan fiction but this is something that's been near and dear to my heart for a long time.

In the West, in the wealthiest countries in the world there's no excuse for sexism, racism or homelessness. We should have already conquered these problems. We all thought that the end of the USSR would spell an end to history and a triumph of capitalism but it just opened a new chapter of evil.

Wherever you are, be you atheist, Muslim or Christian do your homework and do what you can to fight against injustice. If we all put our shoulders to the wheel we can do great things. I believe in humanity and that good will one day prevail over evil.

Cheers and blessings to all. Thank you very much

Ta

Flesh Trade: Chapter Three-Final
The last chapter. And a major weight off my chest. I just want to admit for the record that I believe in communism, my best friends are hippies and I hate anything that's hierarchical. Peace be with you.
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Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: nudity, sexual themes, violence/gore, strong language and ideologically sensitive material)

Flesh Trade

Disclaimer: I do not own any copywrited properties. This is a not for profit venture so fuck ya'll. Enjoy the story, review and criticise constructively. I've been out of the writing business a while and I need the instruction lol ;)

This chapter features explicit nudity, body modification and human trafficking. If these things bother you turn back now.


Now enjoy

Lok Announcer: Tragedy has struck! All Republic city lives in fear as the dreaded Amon unveils his power to take away other's bending. After smashing the triad leaders he attacks the pro-bending arena; showing off his power both to the city leaders and the Republic city benders. Lock your doors! Hide your children! Amon is coming!

Tahno lay back in his bed, stroking his cock and looking at the betrothal necklace he'd bought for Ming. His long penis hung limply against his toned thighs, his balls shrunken even though it was almost swelteringly hot in the room. Since Amon had taken away his bending sex and all forms of pleasure had lost their appeal. He could neither enjoy a good screw, nor a fine wine nor even a well-buttered slice of toast anymore. His skin and hair had lost its luster and so had his ability to really enjoy anything.

From the outside, Amon had seemed to just touch Tahno and his teammate's foreheads with his thumbs. You could say that Amon only touched them. You could also say that rape is only surprise sex.

Having bending taken away was a bit like that new surgical procedure that surgeons now favoured for non-benders with mental health problems; the lobotomy. Like a surgeon went into the eye socket and dug around with an icepick until the screaming stopped, Amon seemed to cut into Tahno's soul with a piece of glass until he removed what he wanted to and fully cut away a vital part.

Tahno lay on the bed, lackadaisically attempting to finger his ass or get any kind of response. He attempted to do any of the things that in the past made him feel good. He got nothing. Every avenue of pleasure was cut off from him. He could still feel a stubbed toe or bitten tongue as keenly as before but all warmth and pleasure was denied him.

Actually, there was one avenue of pleasure. Tahno's right hand fell away from his ass and genitals as a mental image popped into his mind and his bleak features turned into an honest smile.

Ming.

Sweet, loving Ming.

Tahno thought of Ming in a suit. He thought of Ming during practice. Ming doing push-ups and Ming practicing his bending form. All of it was still so lovely. Ming was a beauty that even Amon's devilish art could not take away from him. Even in the dark times Ming's love and beauty stood out and drove back the shadows. Ming was the one reason that Tahno hadn't killed himself yet.

Ming's grace and his kindness above all were the last sweet things in life that he could savour. Funny how he never noticed before how Ming had been kind, forgiving, understanding and respectful towards him. He'd only ever noticed how physically attractive and physically talented he'd been in the past.

A part of him knew the wedding proposal stemmed from desperation. He'd felt a rift between him and Ming and this new disease that Amon had visited upon them was widening it. He did not want Ming to let go of him. He regretted how he'd made Ming feel in the past and he truly did believe that the future could be much better if only Ming stayed.

Marriage would be perfect. It would be the kind of grand gesture that could keep your mate with you and overwhelm the instincts that made them want to flee. Tahno knew that more than anything Ming craved fidelity, so what better way to ensure that fidelity than by tying the knot?

Sitting up on the bed, Tahno sighed and for the first time since having his bending taken away he really felt something good; a warm, fluttering feeling inside. His faded and washed out blue eyes focused on the betrothal necklace on the nightstand. A little smile tugged his once pink and full lips.

"Ming, will you marry me?" he practiced in a small, less than confident voice as he began to fish around for a good shirt. "Ming, marry me."

Confidence was another thing that had taken a crippling blow after the incident. The once confident ex-bender could barely hold his head up straight when walking down the street and just looking people in the eye seemed as frightening as sticking his head into the jaws of the moose-lion. In truth he didn't feel sexy, powerful or even attractive but that only made him want to hold onto that tingly feeling so much more.

"Ming, marry me. You'll like it," he cursed as he slipped on pants, "Shit, that's lousy."

"Ming, you're my forever guy,"

"You should marry me, Ming," he winced as he began to slide socks on. "Nah, too threatening."

In a building on the other side of the street, a lone man watched Tahno from an empty apartment. All the lights were off and the moonlight illuminated the man's smile from under the wide brim of his fedora. Chapped lips pulled back as the young man across the street got dressed; almost a reverse strip tease.

In truth, the lone man in the abandoned apartment had been watching for quite some time and with all the lights on in his bedroom Tahno had given quite a show; painfully jerking his cock like it disgusted him and attempting to trigger pleasure through now faded nipples.

What made Eichhorst horny more than anything was the expression on Tahno's face. That look of sloth, not laziness, oh no my dear; this was classic sloth; depression, a sadness so deep that it sucked away all vitality and desire for movement and energy. Seeing the pain the boy was in, seeing him a fragment of what he used to be; that was a sight to make a man smile.

Chapped lips pulled back under the moonlight and yellow, chipped teeth glinted; several silver cuspids and molars flashed as the moon was covered by the clouds.

Eichhorst turned around as the clouds plunged his little corner of the world into darkness.

Shaozu lay on the sofa, seemingly dead except for the breathing of his chest. He might have been sleeping but honestly he hadn't slept in a solid week. None of the three former benders had slept for one single minute since Amon had gone and violated them. Every time they'd drifted off the Masked man had always been there with that outreached hand; there to pluck away their virtue and sever them.

Ming sat at the kitchen table, hunched over and appearing to be praying. His eyes were closed and hands clasped; to what spirit or ancestor he prayed to none could tell; he certainly wasn't inviting any of the others to join him in the spirituality.

Tahno strode in, head bent and shoulder huddled. The swagger was totally gone, though the small smile on his face remained. Maybe his proposal line wasn't what it could have been, but Tahno knew that deep down inside Ming would go with what he wanted and they'd be better off for it.

The silence was deafening in the apartment, the sound of Tahno pulling up a chair across from Ming was deafening. Ming winced in his prayers as wood scraped on wood. His body began to shiver ever so slightly and the pace of his murmured prayers

"Hey," Tahno greeted his boyfriend awkwardly, "Ming."

Ming's eyes opened ever so slightly and he focused on Tahno, but did not unclasp his hands or respond verbally. Maybe it was just Tahno's imagination but it looked like Ming was trying to back away from him.

Holding the box with the betrothal necklace in his hands, Tahno tried to be as warm as he could despite his trauma. "Hey, Min-Min. I, well, there was something that I wanted to talk to you about."

Slowly, his boyfriend unclasped his hands and put them on the table. He still gave Tahno that look; the appearance of humouring a total stranger. Ming was slowly straightening his back and looking Tahno in the eye as if preparing for a conflict.

Deliberately, Tahno put the betrothal box on the tabletop but did not open it. "Listen, Min-Min, I've been putting a lot of thought into something. This is something that you've wanted for a long time. You've wanted me to go monogamous for a long time. Well now is the day that I'm—

"Don't."

Tahno blinked, the reaction from Ming shaking him to his very core.

Ming put his hands to his temples, trying to ignore both the pain of Tahno's disappointment as well as his own pent up frustration. "Don't even ask me what I think you're going to ask, Tahno."

Disappointment, sadness and Anger all threatened to crush Tahno. Emotions that under normal circumstances would have been hard to deal with threatened to destroy him. It was only because the emotion overwhelmed him that he was able to stay perfectly quiet and stand perfectly still while Ming talked.

"Tahno, I already know about the betrothal necklace and my answer is no." Ming's face was frigid and unfeeling, Tahno was reeling. One of his pale hands went to his chest to check if his heart was still beating.

"I've done a lot of thinking over the past few days and my answer is no to marriage," but Ming continued, "I am nothing but angry and insulted that you would propose at a time like this. This isn't anything but a cynical ploy to try and leech off of me."

Tahno, dry mouthed and stunned trembled with some strange species of terror, remorse and anger as his ex-earth bender boyfriend let it all out.

"Since I've known you, you've done everything you can to keep our relationship a secret for the sake of those stupid tabloid journalists. I can't even hold your hand in public and now you throw a wedding proposal at me like I'm some sort of idiot."

Tahno gulped and choked back the bile, these words from Ming felt like the purest and most malicious form of attack. Ming was hurting him, cutting his heart out of his chest with those words and accusing expression. The walls were closing in on him, the air was running out and everything was growing dark. He was losing sensation in the tips of his fingers and toes and Ming did not care about this cruel attack.

"Looking back on it, I can see you have no pride whatsoever. Everything with you is a front. There's not a single authentic thing about you, including our love."

"Shut up," Tahno hissed as he jabbed a finger at Ming. "You don't know what you're talking about. It's just what he did talking right now. I know you love me, Ming, I know you really do and I love you back just as much.

Ming sighed, his burdens not in the least alleviated by this confession and catharsis out of his heart. Truthfully he was hurting as much as Tahno was with this little release from his soul; but at least he had his head on straight.

"You shut up!" Ming shouted back, shaking Shaozu from his sloth. "I don't know who you think you are but you hurt me. I'm not the shy, insecure kid I was when you first kissed me but you're still the insecure mixed race kid you were back then. I changed and you didn't."

Ming brought up a trembling hand but had to grab the table, he looked woozy; almost as if he'd fall over. His face twisted up and tears began to trickle down his face. "This isn't healthy, Tahno, for either of us." Ming began to sob, covering his face with shame.

Shaozu was slowly moving away, unable to cope with the extreme emotions in the room.

Tahno . . . was crashing and burning.

He saw Ming, smaller, weaker and more vulnerable than he'd ever been before; and all he'd done was told Ming to shut up. He'd tried to shut down his boyfriend like some clingy fan girl or fan boy. He wanted to rush forth and scoop up Ming; shield him from the cold, evil world and tell him it would all be okay. Yet he remained rooted to the spot, mired down by his personal demons and hamstrung by the recent trauma.

He wanted Ming to hold him; he wanted Ming's sweet words in his ear. Anger and frustration held him to the spot. He wasn't patient on the best of days but today his lack of any kind of compassion or understanding was spelling an end to the very best thing that had ever happened to him.

The weeping ex-bender stopped and steadied himself. Though still weak and weary, he dried his eyes with his sleeve and did his best to stand proud and tall. "I contacted my mother and father; I'll be staying with them in White Falls for a time. I can't stay here with you, Tahno. Consider us broken up. I know it hurts now but I hope you'll work on yourself as a person and find real happiness." The words were hollow but well meaning.

Now Tahno was the one to start crying, the betrothal necklace long forgotten. "Ming, please; I'm nothing without you. If you leave me I'll die. I'll die without you, Min-Min."

Ming squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head; Tahno wasn't he only one who'd had his heart ripped out tonight. "I . . . am leaving for my parents' home in the morning. Tonight I'll sleep on the couch."

Two pairs of bloodshot and teary eyes met for what was going to be the last time.

Tahno wanted to tell Ming that his choice was okay, that this would be good for them and that he'd rather they part on good terms. Instead, fear of loss transformed into anger, "Ming, if you leave me then you are nothing!" his fingernails scraped against the wooden table, "I swear if you leave me—

SMASH!

Everyone in the apartment jumped as the door splintered into a million pieces. An enormous piece of black rock zipped through the air and only stopped when it crashed into the oven; caving it in with the impact.

Everyone froze in shock as a giant native of Svalbard walked through the destroyed door frame. Clad in fur cape and iron armour, the Svalbarder looked like a relic of the hundred years war; the massive axe he wielded looked about perfect for slicing someone in half.

Ducking his head under the doorframe, the Svalbarder adjusted the iron mask that covered the top half of his face and scanned the room with ice blue eyes. He then began to shout in a language that was all hisses, slippery consonants and pure hatred.

From out behind the Scandinavian giant strutted Herr Tomas Eichhorst. The good herren strolled with a spring in his step, hat tilted to the side for maximum style points. In either hand he was fire bending a bright ball of flame that reflected light off of his pale eyes. A song in a foreign language weaved from his mouth, different from the Scandinavian's language but no less hateful and horrifying.

Wachstum, Wachstum über alles!

Growth, growth over all!

über alles in der Welt!

Over everything in the world!

A lick of flame slunk out of Eichhorst's mouth like a serpent's tongue and he grinned as he eyed the three former benders. Tomas Eichhorst was very, very hungry.

"WE ARE THE HOUSING INSPECTION COMMITTEE!" Eichhorst cried out with pure glee, "THIS HOUSE IS CLOSED FOREVER!" He cheered to the Svalbarder, "Mikkelsen!"

Narrowing his tundra cold eyes, Mikkelsen thrust out a fist. A large chunk of granite broke off of the big block and clamped around Shaozu's neck like a big collar or choker.

Gasping for air with the stone cutting off his trachea, Shaozu fell over from the almost fifty pounds sitting around his neck. With another thrust of his hand, Mikkelsen thrust another chunk of black granite to wrap around Shaozu's legs; preventing him from calling out for help or running away.

"Run, Tahno!" Ming shouted as he overturned the table. Tahno fell backwards as Ming tried to shift the table between the two of them and the Europeans. Tahno watched in a kind of numb horror as Eichhorst launched a blast of fire at the table, sending a wave of suffocating smoke over Tahno and Ming.

Gagging and choking, Tahno felt like he'd just smoked an entire carton of Earth Kingdom black tobacco in three seconds. All he could focus on was the agony in his lungs from smoke inhalation when he felt someone grab onto his arm. The former captain of the wolfbats stumbled as his now ex-boyfriend half dragged him out of the kitchen.

Thick black smoke came up as the lacquer lair of the table burned. Eyes burning, half blind and half suffocated, the two terrified boys tried to flee towards the fire escape as they heard Eichhorst continue to sing.

Gnadenlos wächst alles weiter,

Everything keeps growing mercilessly,

steckt die ganze Welt in Brand!

Setting the whole world on fire!

Lasst uns über Leichen gehen!

Let's sell our own grandmothers!

Aug' um Aug' und Hand um Hand

An eye for an eye and hand for a hand

While the fly-mice ran, Eichhorst danced off after them; walking on cloud nine was he. Taking a different route, Mikkelsen stormed off; heavy boots making the entire floor quake.

Tahno was mute as Ming shoved him along, willing to save his life even after being so mistreated by his ex-boyfriend.

"Run, Tahno, run!" Ming shouted as he herded his love towards the fire escape.

There it was!

The balcony window was open and from there it would be a simple matter of getting down the metal stairs to the streets. From there they could flag down the metal bending cops and be safe.

A jet of crimson flames shot out and burned the floor before the balcony. Smoke and flames taunted and laughed at them in the language of crackling wood and burning draperies. The two boys were trapped as the flames reached almost to the ceiling.

A large lump of granite smashed through a wall and wrapped around Ming's neck.

"NO!" Tahno screamed. He jumped towards his fallen lover, hands desperately grabbing at the stone collar imprisoning Ming.

A giant iron shod boot kicked him in the ribs and Tahno went down wheezing and gasping for air. Clutching at his ribs, Tahno mentally made a desperate prayer to any spirits who were listening. Please stop this. We don't deserve this

As the breath returned to his body, a hand with nearly a twelve inch span wrapped around Tahno's throat. The shock knocked him back to reality as Mikkelsen slammed him into a wall; the Svalbarder utterly unreadable an unexpressive; unlike his business partner Herr Eichhorst.

The light of the fire danced across the Yermaniki's wrinkled but handsome face. His smoker's smile was warped into the most gleeful, childish smile of all time. Another flaming snake's tongue came out of Eichhorst's mouth as he tried to ignore how hard he was.

Unconcerned for the wellbeing of his captive, Eichhorst reached out and grabbed Tahno's groin. His smile widened as he gave a little squeeze to the "goods" he was feeling; if his smile got any wider it would fall off his face.

Mentally, Tahno wanted to give a powerful yell and throw the both men back. He wanted to break Mikkelsen's fingers and escape with Ming and Shaozu. All he was able to do was thrust out one fist and give Eichhorst a weak and ineffectual punch.

Stumbling a bit, Eichhorst put a hand to his nose and saw the blood that Tahno's weak punch had drawn. The change was instantaneous. That childish grin transformed into a predator's snarl. Spit flew and foreign words that Tahno didn't understand cursed him and all he held dear.

The Yermaniki grabbed captive by the face and ran his sweaty fingers all over it. The boy cringed but could do nothing. Right now the only thing saving him from having a pair of thumbs popping out his eyeballs was Eichhorst's greed.

Eichhorst's thumbs ran over Tahno's eyes; the man warred with himself internally, reasoning that Tahno didn't need eyes to big a blowjob but that the lack of eyes could lower his market value.

In the end greed prevailed over bloodlust and in a fit of bipolar caprice, Eichhorst leaned in and gave Tahno a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Satisfied, he turned around and let Mikkelsen handle the rest of the matter.

Tahno saw no more as a chunk of rock slammed into the side of his head, knocking him out.

And then there was darkness.

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

And then there was pain.

When he woke there was pain, cold, dampness and dark. Moisture, water and the bending of it; something that had once been as native to him as his right hand was now a cold, alien force. A drip, drip of water from the concrete ceiling kept on hitting Tahno between the eyes every few seconds. This water was like a slap in the face for someone who'd once been one of the most talented young water benders in the city.

Tahno twisted and gasped, trying to turn his head away from the water torture. No such luck, the shackles around his legs and neck kept him totally immobilised. Hard, rusted steel rubbed against smooth ivory coloured skin. A single incandescent bulb flickered overhead.

Tahno froze with fear as a shirtless Ditch sailor walked through the crumbling concrete doorway of the dungeon. This guy was the fattest, hairiest, most muscular bear of a man Tahno had ever seen and he was carrying a tray full of needles and piercings in plain sight.

Jaws clamping shut in terror, Tahno found himself unable to look away from the shiny, sterile piercing needles that were picked up by unwashed sausage fingers. The bear sailor set the tray down on the stone pedestal that Tahno was shackled to.

The Dutchman grunted as he grabbed Tahno's tackle with bruising force. A small whimper came out of the boy, unable to speak a single coherent word.

When the needle went in, Tahno's screams might just as well be heard by nobody. By the time the Dutch sailor was finished piercing both his nipples, he was reduced to shaking and sobbing. Blood poured from his nipple and cock wounds and the big hairy guy left without attempting to staunch the bleeding.

As the big foreigner left, the incandescent light bulb burnt out, so Tahno was left died down to a table in the dark, naked, freezing and with water tripping on him. It would be about half an hour before anyone came to get him.

Dutch sailors with less exotic body types undid the shackles, replaced the light bulb and ensnared Tahno with water tentacles. The men had to use their water bending to carry Tahno, since he'd fainted from fear and exhaustion earlier.

Events passed in a blur for Tahno. He was in and out of consciousness, having gone through more stress and fear then humans were meant to be able to take. He welcomed the unconscious moments, enjoyed the freedom of oblivion but he had no control over this. He woke up innumerable times with no context and just wishing he was unconscious again.


He woke up in a white tiled room as Dutchmen water bended him clean with freezing water tentacles. They made a bit of a game where they each tried to stick the end of a water tentacle into the boy's orifices as subtly as possible and make it look like an accident.


Tahno woke up in a padded chair as an impossibly old water tribe women puffed a big cigar and tried to restore his hair to his former glory; the Dutch loitering about and waiting for her to finish.


Again he woke, this time in front of a camera wearing an expensive and beautiful but ill-fitting suit. The eyeliner they'd put on him stung his eyes.


Each flash of the camera was a jump ahead in time. He did not exist between those camera clicks and he did a pretty good job of ignoring the man waiting to put an ice spike through his brain if he didn't comply. Maybe if he'd had some real balls he'd have provoked them and let them kill them; end this whole mess.


Tahno only truly woke up in a cage. He was naked again and mercifully the eyeliner had been removed from his face, though it left his eyes red and puffy.

For the longest time he just sat at the bottom of the cage, just looking between his legs at the ground. Indolence born of terror and depression had taken him and anything outside of this small little field of vision could be full of horrors untold. Every movement also sent flames through his new nipple piercings and Prince Albert; so that was also a substantial motivation not to move too much.

Tahno however came fully awake when someone ignited a handful of fire right behind him; washing him in heat and causing him to jump in terror to the other side of the cage.

Muscles tense, Tahno clung to the bars like a cornered lizard-monkey. In a night awash with terror, pain and loss, he'd learned to fear fire above all the other elements. He'd also learned to fear one man above all others.

Eichhorst laughed a she extinguished the flames in his hand. Smoker's grin stretched from ear to ear as he surveyed Tahno; naked, caged and owned.

The Yermaniki laughed. To his left, Varrick wrung his hands nervously, to the right Mikkelsen casually thumbed the blade of his axe.

"It's good to see you again, Tahno, meine jung," Eichhorst leaned in closer to the bars of the cage, "Have you got a kiss for us?" He couldn't hold it in any longer, and Eichhorst began to burst into loud, jubilant laughter.

Tahno could only stare as Eichhorst continued to laugh at him.

His life was officially over.


Well that was liberating Hope I didn't scare you.

The character of Mikkelsen was actually based in part off of Mads Mikkelsen, the Danish actor who played Hannibal on TV and also a one eyed Viking this one time. Vikings make everything better.

There will be one more chapter after this, which will be more terrifying than the last so brace yourselves! So thanks for reading and reviewing!

Ta

Master of the Boot

Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: sexual themes, strong language and ideologically sensitive material)

Flesh Trade

Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Korra or the Strain. Both are third party properties and trademarked. This is a not for profit venture. This story deals with topics of unseen privilege and human trafficking, if these topics bother you please turn back now.


Prologue

Lok Announcer: Welcome to Republic City! A shining jewel of the world and a showcase of all four cultures, the capital of the United Republics brings Earth Kingdom tradition, Air Nation Spirituality, Fire Nation luxury and Water tribe elegance. But most of all, See the Grand Xing Hotel, the largest and most luxurious hotel in the world! Rub shoulders with the who's who of Republic City. Book your tickets today!

The Pro-Bending team the Wolfbats basked in the bright flashes of the photographer's cameras. The three lads were young, strapping benders with looks that could make men and women alike weak in the knees. With the rise of radio and the newspaper these three boys and many like them had become the princes of this City's new celebrity worshipping culture. An entire industry had sprung up over the last twenty years dedicated to nothing but the going on of the rich and famous.

The captain of the team, a young mixed race water bender by the name of Tahno gave his best devilish smile as he shook hands with none other than lightning bolt Zolt; notorious gang leader of Republic city and a true master of public relations. The pair shook hands like old friends, giving the morning tabloids plenty of fuel for scandal, conspiracy and gossip.

As the Wolfbats and Zolt prepared to enter the black tie event at the Grand Xing hotel, bouncers kept back the press. The entrance might be the feeding ground of the paparazzi but inside was strictly invitations only. The ruling council of Republic City would be here as well as captains of industry and the City's religious leadership.

Tahno felt a deep satisfaction in his soul as the last of the camera flashes hit him and Zolt began to tell the journalists that question time was over. Better than sex, the thought of an entire city knocking down his door to know the handsome and sexy Captain Tahno filled him with white light and joy.

Next to him, his boyfriend Ming tried to hold his hand, but Tahno rebuffed him. Chiding his boyfriend gently, "Ming, not in public, please. People have to believe that we're available; it's what makes us a hot commodity." He truly did not mean to hurt Ming, he did not; and at this point Ming had gotten very good at hiding his hurt and disappointment from his boyfriend.

Cheerfully the third man on the team, Shaozu gave Ming a playful slap on the ass as the three handed in their coats at the lobby. "Don't feel too bad, Ming. The only thing the paparazzi hate is a taken man. And Tahno will make it up to you later," he started to laugh loudly at his own joke, semi-placating Ming.

As the three entered the ballroom, Shaozu broke off to try and get some married women to have sex with him. He just never felt alive unless he was wrecking another's relationship. As he started to make moves on the nearest MILF, Tahno whispered to Ming. "Remember to play it cool. Reporters only like men in relationships when they're cheating and I could never do that to you."

Straightening up, Ming really did begin to feel better. He gave Tahno a hit on the shoulder before heading off, "Well I guess I never could stay mad at you. Though I'll do everything I can tonight to make you jealous," he winked and strutted off.

Tahno had to remember to breathe, as the thought of Ming flirting with other men and women both served as a source of rage and a huge, huge turn on. Before he could get any further into the ballroom, he found himself ambushed by one Varrick, a hotshot industrialist from the Southern Water tribe and his overworked assistant Zhu-li.

"Hold it! Hold it!" shouted the overly animated and flamboyant Varrick, "Hold very still," the millionaire mogul cautioned the water bender.

Tahno wasn't the least bit worried but he was annoyed. "What do you want?" he asked the jumpy industrialist.

Varrick had his eyes focused on Tahno like lasers and he was crouching like he expected an invisible enemy to attack him that only he could see. "Stand very still, your life depends on it."

Suddenly, Zhu-li grabbed Tahno's shoulder. "Hey!" he protested. Just as he moved to push the lowly secretary woman off of him, Varrick lunged forward with a pair of tweezers and plucked a single hair from Tahno's scalp. "Ow, fuck!"

Varrick stepped back, ignoring Tahno's anger and admiring the new addition to his collection. He spoke to his assistant, "Zhu-li, isn't this the sexiest hair you've ever seen?"

The affirmation was instant, monotone and enthusiastic, "Yes sir. Sexiest hair I've ever seen."

Tahno jabbed a finger at the industrialist, "You're sick. If you ever lay a hand on me again there will be consequences." He narrowed his eyes and put on a smouldering look to try and intimidate Varrick but it had rather the opposite effect.

The animated mogul waved his hands in wild gestures, "Say-no-more, say-no-more. One hair is all I need to get off. I'll give you cab fair at the end of the night but this isn't love and you shouldn't miss me," He began to recede with Zhu-Li. "Don't play the jealous boyfriend! I hate that!"

Tahno watched Varrick walk off into the party and he rolled his eyes, "Where have you been spending your nights?"

"Tahno!" The call of his name shook him out of his disgust and he saw Lightning Bolt Zolt approaching with a distinguished guest.

"My boy," Zolt flashed his winning grin, almost as bright as the jewelry he was wearing. "I'd like you to meet someone, a good friend in the shipping business. This is Tomas Eichhorst and he and I go way back."

The man Tomas Eichhorst smiled at Tahno from under his fedora and black suit. He was an aging but healthy European man with thinning hair and small blue eyes. Eichhorst didn't say anything right away; he just kept smiling as if laughing at a joke only he was in on.

"I didn't know you had any foreign friends," Tahno asked the notorious gangster, "Is he Dutch?"

It was then that Eichhorst spoke, a light but oddly musical accent colouring his words. "Maybe, maybe not," He leaned in a bit and smiled a little wider, "If you're a water bender, why are you white?" he cheekily asked.

Tahno stiffened at the question but before he could shut the European down, Zolt laughed.

"Oh, didn't I say, Tahno; my boy Eichhorst is quite an edgy fellow. Shake his hand and you'd better check to see if your watch is still there," Zolt laughed, "Eh, Tomas, you cheapskate, gajin herpes spreader?" He laughed at his own crudeness and Eichhorst joined in enthusiasm.

The white man playfully pointed a finger at the gangster, "Better watch out, I'll be coming after your daughter and your wife at the same time."

Zolt chuckled before spotting one of his good friends on the city council, "Well I'll leave you two to get acquainted better. I've got other friends to entertain. Greetings, Councillor Tarlok!"

Thus Tahno was left with the still smiling European. As Zolt went to go schmooze with one of the least non-bender friendly councillors, Tahno gave Eichhorst a look up and down. "Do you always insult and threaten everyone you meet?"

Smile spreading a bit wider, Eichhorst took of his fedora and ran a hand through his grey/blonde hair. "I might come across as a bit theatrical but fundamentally I'm a good person inside." Replacing his cap upon his head, Eichhorst straightened his tie. "And to answer your earlier question, I'm from Yermanikos; it's a small country that was absorbed by the Dutch nearly a century ago. Culturally we're still distinct even though we obey the Orange throne."

Tahno smirked a bit as he and Eichhorst were handed glasses of sparkling wine by an approaching waiter. "I honestly thought you might be from Svalbard; you're pale enough for it."

Eichhorst nodded and took a sip of his wine, "But I'm not wearing any furs. My partner in the shipping business, Mikkelsen is from Svalbard; they tend to be taller than the Dutch or Yermaniki like myself. Though I'm glad that you didn't assume I was from either Texas or Manitoba; damned be those two countries."

Tahno laughed, "And to answer your earlier question my mother was half water tribe and the other half of me is earth Kingdom."

Draining his glass in a single gulp, Eichhorst was beside himself with glee. "Stubborn and flexible in one package. You are a remarkable young man, Herr Tahno. I've heard that you and your team were the youngest Pro-Bending champions in history. I've also heard many tales of your reputation as a heart breaker." His eyes narrowed a bit and one eyebrow rose just so slightly.

The pale water bender sipped his glass slowly, starting to get into the conversation with the white European. "I owe it all to the fans. I owe my success to my mother, the Spirits and my adoring fans. I worked hard to get here and used nothing but hard work. The groupies are just a perk, really."

"So the rumours of your cheating are groundless," he was still smiling but there was something a bit less friendly in that heavily accented voice; not to mention a hint of hunger.

Part of Tahno wanted to just leave right now and let the Yermaniki twist in the wind, but to do so would admit defeat; and he never backed down from a challenge. "Groundless rumours born of jealousy I'm sure. I'm the most honest man in pro-bending." For emphasis he tossed his head to show off his bouffant, sleek hair. "I wasn't handed anything in life. I earned and deserve everything I have."

Eichhorst straightened up and for once stopped smiling. He wore an expression of child like curiosity on his face that looked too large for lies or theatricality. "Do you really think that? Do any of us earn what we have?"

The Captain of the Wolfbats frowned. If he didn't know any better, it looked like the foreigner was trying to confess something. And he did not look forward to being this man's psychoanalyst so he was honest. "Yes, I honestly do believe that people have things because they deserve them. People who are poor or ugly are either lazy or they were lazy in a past life. When I say I worked to earn my keep, I mean it; I'm not just tooting my own horn."

Eichhorst pressed, like a child breathlessly taking in a parent's answers. "But how do you know that you deserve your lot in life; is there a way to know? How much of it is like an invisible bag pack we are born with?"

"Invisible bag pack!" Tahno laughed derisively. His sneering laughter seemed to greatly sadden Eichhorst and under his fedora he seemed to grow small and frightened. Frightened by what Tahno had no idea nor did he really care; the last thing he wanted was the man's life story.

Those empty blue eyes looked back at Tahno with hope joining the mixed emotions of sadness and curiosity. "But suppose we weren't dealt a good hand. What if we weren't who we were? What if you couldn't bend?"

Now Tahno was starting to get angry. Babysitting was not something he sighed up for with this party. He was here to turn heads and be noticed; not fetch this foreigner man child's blankie. "You think my life was easy? Try being the only mixed nation kid in the neighbourhood. And even if I hadn't been born with bending, I would have pulled up myself by my bootstraps and become someone great like Hiroshi Sato. Some people are just better, that's how it's always been."

One final time, this time there was resignation in his voice and acceptance on his face, "I came from a family of hunters, but I was never very good at it. I found other ways to prosper besides hunting, but I always wanted to be good at it." He sighed as he admitted, "Since I was never good at hunting I took to hitting women."

Tahno rolled his eyes, "Oh don't act all sad about that. Everybody knows that it takes two to make an argument. I won't judge you for what you've done; those bitches probably did something to make you hit them. I used to be with a very clingy girl before I met Ming and sometimes she just needed to be put in her place."

Without warning, Eichhorst burst into laughter. The child grew into a pale eyed and yellow toothed man with a lust for life and laughter. He was no longer a lost child but the life of the party. He spoke to Tahno with renewed cheer and joviality as he handed off his empty wine glass to a server. "That's the spirit! No apologies, no mercy; life is a party and I'll rest when I'm dead!" He laughed and stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of them and invading Tahno's much appreciated personal space.

The Yermaniki cocked his head and just looked over Tahno's beautiful features like he could see under his skin. "And what was that you said; something about being with Ming?" He clicked his tongue, "You don't mean your teammate Ming? Do you fuck before each match? I hear it's a great way to build up excess qi."

"It was a slip of the tongue," Tahno reigned in his emotions, "I'm not tied down to anyone. I can have anyone or anything I want. And also, you might want to take your big mouth somewhere else; before you get hurt."

The foreigner laughed, smoker's teeth clacking in delight. "I like you, boy; your beauty keeps me hungry." He looked like he might literally want to eat the Wolfbat, "Your passion makes me hard," he winked. "See you later, tschuss."

He walked off, and not a moment too soon. Tahno was going to need to take a long bath after meeting with that scumbag.


That was fun I know I have so many backlogged writing projects but my gut told me I had to write this and so I did.

The character Eichhorst is from a show called the strain and is played by the Phenomenal Richard Sammel. The charater of Eicchorst was one of the best villains I've seen in a long time and amazingly complex; so I decided to mix him up with a little real world Asian-European history and drop him into the world of Avatar.

And frankly I kind of like the idea that in the avatar world there's a bending Europe that's more or less a backwater hellhole.

So I hope you enjoyed this there will be two more chapters after this, each one more twisted than the last so prepare yourself

Ta

Master of the Boot

Flesh Trade: Chapter 1
I hope you all enjoyed this. This was very cathartic to write. Let me know what you think.

Ta

Master of the Boot
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Well another remembrance day has come and gone.

And honestly it left me feeling pretty empty.

For the first time in my life, wearing the poppy and standing in while a speaker says the soldiers died for my freedom made me feel both dirty and sickened.

Maybe part of it came from my brief time in the army, but this year I don't feel the same about remembrance day.

Let's start with the first thing. The way that the speakers at the remembrance day ceremonies talked about how the soldiers died to preserve our way of life and to safeguard our freedoms.

No, just no.

A thousand times no.

I'm too old, I'm too cycnical and I'm too smart to fall for that shit.

In nine out of ten cases, the soldiers don't die for freedom. In nine out of ten cases the soldiers die painfully for nothing. They die in vain and they die for greed and gluttony and for profits of corporations. Soldiers give everything they have and they die for nothing. They're better men than I'll ever be but don't ever believe the bullshit.

I grew up in the age of September Eleven and the Bush era wars. I'm part of the generation who's been lied to. I'm part of the generation where soldiers are serving four or more tours of duty in a row and at the same time are having their veterans benefits cut.

I'm not from the generation where soldiers were treated like human beings and given a fair shake after making the ultimate sacrifice. I'm part of the corporate generation. I'm part of the generation that saw us all go to war predicated on a lie.

Right now in Canada the last federal run Veterans hospital has been shut down and veterans have been devastated by budget cuts by a conservative government that hates human life itself.

I was a soldier for six months, I'm not a tough guy, I'm not a good guy or a great guy. And there are lot of people with more balls than I'll ever have in the army, but I don't believe for one motherfucking second that the soldiers died for freedom.

So no, the soldiers died for greed and for their sacrifice they're being fucked in the ass harder than they ever have been without any king of preparation or even a reacharound.

So on remembrance day, the poppy looked like a sick piece of shit and the rhetoric drove me nearly to foaming mad.

I feel like as a culture we've fetishized the solider. We worship them like straw dogs in Chinese ritual and throw them away when the work is done. We have no skin in the game yet we take everything away from them.

If you want to honour the soldiers, don't support the war. The soldier is the only citizen who had unlimited liability. Even cops and swat teams can't be send into knowingly suicidal situations.

If you want to honour the soldier, fuck the poppy, how you vote and who you support politically is all that matters.

If you want to honour the soldier just say, "Hey, you've been through shit and I'm glad you're home. We've gone out of our way to make sure you're properly reintegrated into society."

That's all. That's it.

The goddamn poppy is a useless symbol. If you really support the troops you'll show it in your votes and your politics.

Support increases in veteran benefits, support programs to help them get help and to help them get work. That's the kind of support that works.

I'm too old to believe that words mean a fucking thing. Only actions count. Actions only.

Support the troops.

Fuck the war.
Post Remembrance Day thoughts
This remembrance day filled me with disgust and hatred. Here's a little screed I posted to support the troops by not supporting the war.

Because just war is an oxymoron.
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  • Listening to: Third degree: by Tahee Cain
  • Reading: Fanfiction
  • Watching: Team fortress SFM movies
  • Playing: Splatterhouse
  • Eating: supper
  • Drinking: beer
Today I had a day off.

I spent the whole day with a glass of home made brandy and my computer. I spent the whole day writing and reading stories.

God, I feel almost like my old self again. It's never felt so glorious.

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Master-of-the-Boot
just call me George
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Canada
Current Residence: British Columbia
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Personal Quote: Andrew Breitbart likes to fuck children to death with cacti while fantasising about fisting his mother in the ass. Just throwing that out there.
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YoungSamurai18 Featured By Owner 5 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Can I talk to ya?
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YoungSamurai18 Featured By Owner Dec 5, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Hey, what's up?
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Merry Christmas- I mean happy birthday!
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Happy Birthday dude!
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Happy Birthday! And a llama will be accompanying you shortly with a badge
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Happy (apparent) Birthday!
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Happy birthday my friend!
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Happy b-day.
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Happy Birthday Master of the Boot :)
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