anonymous asked:

Sam frowned and looked at his brother, "You wanna go get some bandages?" Dean looked at Sam and then at the angel and understanding slowly dawned on his face and his brows rose subtly "Yea, be right back." Sam clenched his jaw and turned his attention back to the wincing angel. "What is it?" Cas experimentally rolled his shoulder and winced again, "My wing.. it was damaged in the melee." Sam looked at the empty air behind the trench-coated man and frowned "Is there anything we can do?" "Set them

“Set.. they broke your wings?” Cas groaned and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, “One of them, at least.” Sam stared and slowly moved to his side “We won’t be able to see them like this,” Cas looked up at him and sighed and soon the massive black wings manifested behind him. Feathers were bent and ratty from blood, some caked and old, but there was still a fresh flow from somewhere in the wing. Sam swallowed and stared “ Right. Set first or clean first?” Cas let his head drop from pain.



Not now, not ever. (Mercy/Reader)

I hope this is okay to submit, otherwise feel free to ignore! I fell in love with Mercy so haRD so I wrote a little something that I wanted to share. I hope you enjoy! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything, so I might be a little rusty!
Warning: Angst, blood, mention of death (whoah ok it’s not that much of a downer), HAPPY ENDING, SO is gender-neutral.

(Y/n) = Your Name


They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. You never quite believed that until now.

It all happened so fast. One moment, you were back to back with Mercy –kicking Talon ass– and the next you were hurled back into the side of a building. It was instinct. The grenade rolled towards you and all you could think of was how Angela would get caught in the blast. Your vision blurred as you lept forward, shoving your partner out of the way. You took the hit and paid the price. As the dust settled, you became aware of your surroundings and the stinging pain in your lower abdomen. You scooted up against the remnants of the wall behind you, pressing firmly against the bloody patch on your stomach. A hiss escaped you: the wound was deep. Your gaze drifted down hesitantly, skimming over the damage you’d suffered. Aside from the occasional grenade fragments lodged into your arms and chest, a jagged cut spanned the lenght of your stomach. You reached for it and pulled out a large chunk of glass, then immediately put pressure back on the wound. This was bad: you were losing blood, fast! At this rate, you would pass out long before any help would arrive. Your eyes became heavy and your hearing started to fade. It wouldn’t be long now. In the distance, you heard her voice.

(Y/n)! (Y/n) stay with me! Bitte, talk to me!”

You wanted to comfort her, tell her you’d be okay, but you didn’t have the energy. A hand found its way onto your shoulder and you knew it was her. While your vision was blurry, you would recognize that face anywhere. She found you, like she always did. You smiled. To know that in your last moments the one you cared most about was by your side…that was a blessing. You reached out, letting go of the pain and gently traced your fingertips down the side of her cheek.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die: in a way, that’s true. You didn’t remember taking your first steps, your first kiss or your time at Overwatch. Instead, you smelled her perfume, remembered the shine in her blue eyes and the curve of her smiling lips. You recalled walking into the infirmary for the first time and being swept off your feet by the great Dr. Ziegler. Her dorky laugh that she would try to hide, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating –everything revolved around her. In that moment, you knew: Angela was you life.

Blood stained her pale skin as your hand went limp, falling to your side. You couldn’t move. As much as you wanted to stand up, hold her –kiss her! You couldn’t. “Angela,” you breathed out, attempting to move again. She held you back.

“Don’t move,” she commanded. You listened. “You are going to survive this!” Her words were lost on you. Fighting the tired feeling in your gut with all your might, you cursed yourself when you allowed your head to droop. Angela forced you to look up. She wouldn’t let you go, not now, not ever. “Didn’t you listen to me? Heroes never die!”

But it was over. You knew it was over the second you jumped in front of that grenade. Angela attempted to soothe your wounds, but to no avail. With the amount of blood you had lost, it was only a matter of time before you’d be done. A single tear rolled down her cheek when she found you were beyond healing at this point.
“No, no, no, no, no!” she let out, pulling you closer. Even until the very end, she never let go. Your eyes drifted shut to the sound of her heartbeat. Dying so that she could live wasn’t that bad, though you wished you’d had more time to say, “I love you.”


Imagine your surprise when your wish was granted.

You awoke to a familiar rhythmic beeping. A wave of white light came over you and when your eyes adjusted, you recognized the Overwatch infirmary. The beeping was your heart monitor, alerting the doctors that you were awake. You were alive, breathing! Memories of your last battle came back to you and your heart started racing. You sat up, careful not to disturb your I.V. and waited. Seconds later, you heard hurried footsteps coming down the hall. The door swung open to reveal her. Her eyes were red, but she was smiling.

“Good morning?” you said, surprised at how hoarse your voice had sounded.

With tears threatening to fall, the good doctor stared in disbelief. Moments passed where not a word was spoken, until she finally broke the silence.

“Gott sei dank!” Angela whispered, rushing to your side. After a brief, strong hug, she slapped you on the shoulder. “Never do that to me again!”
Before you had the time to defend yourself, you were gripped by the front of your robes and pulled into a kiss. Her lips were soft, but the action itself was needy and harsh –like you both had been waiting a lifetime for this moment. When she parted from you, Angela gently wiped away a stray tear. “I didn’t know if you’d ever come back to me,” she said. “You were in a critical condition for so long I–”

“Stop.“ You raised your hand. “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. You know why?” She shook her head. You straightened your back, then pulled her onto the bed beside you, trapping her in a warm embrace. “Helden sterben nicht.”