Author's Notes:

The second drabble is based on the assumption that the Fire Nation's system of nobility, before the end of the war, favored male heirs over female heirs. As this has been the practice of many cultures throughout time, I thought it was probably an accurate assumption for that time period. Additionally, the views expressed in these drabbles in no way reflect my own beliefs or customs. Enjoy.

10. Chi Blocker(150)

"You have to be faster," her teacher ordered. "You may not be a bender, but you can do this."

"I'm trying," Ty Lee whined. Her mentor's hand snaked out and slapped her, hard. She lowered her head. "Sorry."

"Get up. Do it right."

Ty Lee rose unsteadily to her feet, wiping away tears. All she'd wanted was to outshine her sisters in some way. All she'd wanted was to be someone her harried parents could acknowledge.

All this training was useless. She'd never be able to shine.

Fury bloomed in her heart. Fury at the world, at herself, at her siblings. When something stirred in her peripheral vision, her hand shot forward, eyes zeroing in on her target. When her fingertips struck her mentor's wrist, the woman's hand went limp.

Ty Lee's breath shook; she lifted her eyes to see her teacher beaming.

Pride replaced the fury in her heart.

11. Male

Mai hated her brother.

He was an obnoxious snot-machine, yet her parents lavished attention on him, cooing, claiming he'd be a great soldier someday.

They loved him because he was a boy, and she was not.

When it came to nobility, male heirs won out over their female relatives every time. Though there was no law enforcing the trend, there had never been a female Fire Lord or female head of the family, except in those decimated clans who'd lost their men to war.

Mai hated her brother because he was destined for greatness, and she had to earn it.

12. Resentment

Azula perched herself in a tree overlooking the turtle-duck pond, relaxing after a three-hour lesson in firebending. Wanting peace and quiet, the last thing she expected was to have her older brother's sobs grating on her ears.

"Mom, I burnt my hand!" Zuko cried. Azula grinned.

It was wonderful to watch Zuko suffer.

But when she saw her mother pull Zuko into her arms and cradle him like an infant, Azula's sadistic glee turned to puzzlement. Mother never held her like that, not even when she hurt herself in training. Yet she was holding Zuko.

Resentment burned through her veins.