Hey, guys! I know this isn't an update, but these are the drabbles for the 100th reviewer and the 100th favorite. If you would like more of these, then feel free to leave a review telling me. By the way, a lot of you guys seem really eager for Kol, so while the second drabble is a bit angsty, as per request, it does include a lot from Kol.

For StarReader2009: Italy, 1397

"Stay still," Klaus says, scolding, gesturing with his paintbrush. His tools have improved throughout the years. That is an upside to immortality. He marvels at the slow progress the world has made, which only seems to be picking up.

"You've been saying that for the last hour," Caroline says, pouting.

"This takes time," he replies, attempting to appease her. "As if I can capture all your beauty."

"Your flattery isn't soothing the cramp I have in my leg," his wife says. "You could probably paint me from memory."

Not a lie.

"At least no one's going to attempt to look down on me for this." He says, changing the subject while adding some shading. He cannot hide the bitterness from his wife of nearly four hundred years- Mikael's disdain during his childhood bites him. "Not a downside to this century, that's for sure."

"It's slightly more cultured than our lives," Caroline admits, accepting the change without much protest.

"Painting is no longer for the weak," He says dryly.

"It's a rebirth of art," Caroline says, adopting a snooty accent, flourishing her hands.

Klaus chuckles. "I'm sure that's the term for it."

"You can have an occupation here." She says. This place has been such a wonderful refuge for them, despite Kol's absence. Last they heard from him, he was somewhere with witches in the East. Rebekah has not come with them- Italy has too many painful memories for her.

"As if I'd ever have a patron," Klaus scoffs. "Too binding."

"You could always compel them," She suggests, getting up despite his protests otherwise, uncaring of her nakedness.

"Or we can be our own great house," he counters. "And I can sponsor myself."

"Elijah's been getting money," she says, "That's not entirely implausible."

"Then it's settled." He says, grinning up at her. "We'll become the most powerful house in Europe. The Originals."

"Not the Mikaelsons?"

"Hardly. Neither of us are Mikaelsons." He shrugs. "Besides, I quite like the moniker. The Original vampires. They already call us that."

"We can create our own army," she said.

"Turn a group of mindless peasants and be done with it," he says.

"Basically what every lord and king does, with the added bonus of immortality." She smirks, draping herself over his lap.

"I'm never going to finish this painting," he says, giving up and placing his paintbrush aside haphazardly. He can always get new ones. But incompleteness always bothers him.

"I'm artwork enough," she says, preening.

"That is a sentiment I can agree with." He says, leaning up to steal a kiss. She leans forward to kiss him back, and he presses a hand to her back.

The incomplete painting is forgotten.

For chillwithJyl: New York, 1944

Niklaus joins the war with eagerness, blood burning for a fight. She is a bit cross with him, but she cannot deny him blood. And to be honest, they need to remain inconspicuous, and an of-age, perfectly healthy man staying home from the war stands out. And his German-sounding name doesn't do him any favors.

So Caroline becomes yet another woman with a blue star in her window.

She pulls a dagger out of Kol's chest the minute he is gone. Why not? Niklaus had his turn with Stefan Salvatore.

Kol is spared from joining the war by his apparent age- her favorite brother in law was turned at seventeen summers, a fact she sometimes forgets. The concept of age and adulthood has changed so much in the hundreds of years she has lived- or the closest semblance she can reach to it.

Not too long ago, a boy like Kol would be sent off to war to become cannon fodder. To hit a drum with a stick, to wave a spear around, to carry armor, to wield a sword. He would have been considered a man.

But of course, times have changed. And Kol would say that there are no boys like him.

She lives with her brother-in-law- oh! what a scandal- with no family to speak of and too much money to know what to do with, a background story that makes people whisper.

The vampires whisper about them too. They wonder, if those are the Originals, where is Klaus? They wonder if this means that she is unguarded. They wonder if this means that they can use her as leverage against her husband.

She and Kol put them in their places.

Kol laughs with every kill, blood dripping off of him with every movement, while she slices and rips and is done with it.

"We're the Originals, darling," he says jovially to one screaming vampire, slowly reaching through his body, fingers digging like worms. "My insufferable brother is hardly the only one of us who can cause pain."

The screaming vampire says an unintelligible obscenity at them.

"What was that?" Kol leans forward, cupping his hand around his ear mockingly. "Couldn't quite catch that, you're going to have to repeat it."

The other vampire tries to spit at him, but Kol tips his chin up to that he chokes on his saliva.

"Shame, I'm sure it would have cut to my very core," Kol says.

"That's enough, Kol," Caroline says, and the tortured one looks up with hope in his eyes; perhaps he will be set free.

He is wrong- his heart is ripped out of his chest mercilessly. Neither of them remember his face or his name. He is one in a list of hundreds of thousands.

"You won't let Nik dagger me again, will you, Caroline?" Kol asks one night, with the countenance of the teenager he had once been. A small moment of childish worry.

"Of course not," she promises.

And of course, fifteen years later, she breaks that promise when Niklaus returns from Europe.