The world of Airth. Literally torn apart by an ancient war between the gods who created it, Airth is divided into 4 sections:
1. the Stratos, a chain of islands high in the sky where the Sylph people live
2. The Rimland, a massive ring of continents and giant islands where Most of the inhabitants of Airth live. Wake lives here.
3. The Abyss, a stretch of atmosphere filled with incredible cloud formations and tiny floating islands. Limberg and Grimm are from here.
4. The Core, an ocean covered rocky sphere filled with colossal caves. The Tengru, monsters and beasts, and the Dark Lord live down here.
There is a prophecy that the Dark Lord will regain his power and destroy what’s left of Airth to start a new planet with him as ruler. The only thing that can stop him is the Star Seed. It is the key to making Airth whole again and destroying the darkness forever. But is the Star Seed only a myth?
Title: The Cold Fusion Job Author: la_rubinita Artist: throughxthexice Rating: Mature Pairings: Dean/Cas Warnings: thief!Dean, scientist!Cas, kidnapping, action violence, heist job, Cas pretends to be Russian, Dean’s A+ self-worth, Dean deserves nice things, Cas is a nice thing, Jo is a fucking badass Posting Date: 10/4/2017
Summary: Castiel Milton is a brilliant electro-chemist at the peak of his career. He’s developed the ultimate energy source, the science behind it promising to revolutionize the world energy market and combat climate change in a way few could have ever dreamed. He’s proud of his work, but he’s grown restless and is more lonely than he realized. He’s ready for a change.
Dean is a thief and mercenary by trade, on a mission of absolution with his rag-tag family. But when the nastiest skeleton in Dean’s closet rears its ugly head, Dean is put between a rock and a hard place: steal Castiel’s research or Sam dies.
It’s all downhill from there. Dean is not the only thief after Castiel’s work, and no one is pulling any punches. Castiel ends up along for the ride, stepping up time and time again, as determined to save Sam as he is to protect his life’s work.
Dean doesn’t know what to do with Castiel and his too-blue eyes that see more than they should, or the growing affection he has for him that, like everything else about this wild night, is completely out of control.
– – –
Castiel wandered up to his building in a daze, stopping dead when he saw his reflection in the glass door. He looked like hell. His tuxedo was destroyed — torn, covered in dirt, the knees of his trousers were shredded from when he’d knelt in the glass, and his bowtie was gone. The dark circles under his eyes made him appear as exhausted as he felt, and he was in dire need of a shower and a shave.
There was also the blood. Most of it was Dean’s.
The apartment was full of morning sun when Castiel finally managed to trudge up the stairs. The television was on, re-runs of “The Rockford Files” airing with the volume turned low, and Anna was asleep on the sofa, still wearing her dress. She stirred when the door clicked shut behind him, stretching and yawning as she fixed her bleary gaze on him.
She looked out the window, then back at him, a teasing smile curling her lips and sculpted eyebrows dancing suggestively. “I guess it ended up being more than just a couple of drinks and some glad-handing.”
“You could say that,” Castiel said dryly.
Anna squinted at him across the room. “Did you go for a literal roll in the hay?”
“Not exactly.”
“Where would you even find hay?”
Castiel looked down at himself, remembering rolling down that embankment, the sound of metal twisting in the distance.
Anna got up and moved toward him, alert now, keen eyes cataloging every detail. Not much got past her. Her gaze narrowed. “Is that blood?”
He tried to think of something to say to soothe his sister, but Anna was already working herself up to a proper fit, so… “No?”
“That is not a question you answer with another question, Cas! Oh my God, did he roofie you and leave you to die of exposure?”
Castiel shook his head. “Nothing like that. He was a perfect gentleman. Until he throat-punched the priest.”
“What?!” Anna screeched, flailing a little. “Who throat-punches a priest? Alright, that’s it. I’m am officially making myself your Head Screener of Dates. Jesus. You went to a fundraising gala, and you look like someone threw you out of a moving car!”
He canted his head to the side. Her summary was surprisingly accurate.
“I’m going to shower.”
“What? Cas! You can’t lead in with ‘he throat-punched a priest’ and then just walk away!”
kototyph 