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Nightmare Before Christmas Dividers

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Ahhh so cute

🩵Cinnamoroll Dividers🩵

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[DIVIDER REQUESTS ARE OPEN!]

DNI: TERFS, endo, proship, pro ana, nazi, MAPs, zoophiles

tag list: @ghostboneswrites2 @savanaclaw1996 @lordhavemercyyyyy @bloodythornsandskulls

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“mind warnings” banners (black)

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Autumn Leaf Dividers

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Shades of Halloween

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Sailor Moon Dividers

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Cassie Dividers

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Dawn Court

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Spring Court

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Academia Dividers

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Halloween Dividers

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gold dividers

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ACOTAR inspired dividers

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One of my dividers!! 🩵💚

☠︎︎The Cause☠︎︎

Psychic-Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Dead-female-reader

When Kyle arrives on scene to investigate your suicide, he finds that he can't, and I mean cannot, drop your case.

Proshippers, Comshippers DNI

Warnings: suicide, gore, guns, angst, contact me if I need to add more.

It wasn't a pretty sight; the bright, flashing police lights, the yellow caution tape. It was pretty overwhelming and took quite a toll on his anxiety.

One could blame him by saying he shouldn't work a job he wasn't mentally equipped for, but only someone deeply desensitized is mentally equipped for the things one saw working on his task force, especially not this time.

For example, the sight of CSI showering you in camera flashes, leaned in close to get a good angle of your blown off head as you slouched in your seat.

It was bloody, messy, splattered across the enclosure of your vehicle, your brain scattered across the place. It wasn't for the weak stomached.

He winced as he watched them pull you out of the car, laying you on the stretcher. Your head gushed and oozed with the movement, leaking across the scene, your hand shriveled, tight around the gun you used to end your life. Even in death, you held it tight, your fingers locked tightly around the trigger.

"Gaz," Price snaps the man out of his trance. "You're doing it again." Gaz sighs at the Captain's words, knowing he was right. He had a bad habit of zoning out at scenes like this, but he did try his best to stay focused.

"You're one of my best men, Gaz. I need ta know you can handle this mission without havin' another episode." "Of course, I can. I've seen worse." His brows furrow, almost taking offensive. He wouldn't dare back out, but he couldn't tell him the real reason why.

"You've seen better and felt worse." Price counters, putting his hands in his pockets. "I know it looks...awful. But if you can't fulfill the job, I can find someone else to fill in for ya." He snorts, backing up as they passed them with your now covered corpse.

Gaz closes his eyes, his skull tingling at the sight of you hidden beneath the thin white sheet, blood seeping through around your head. Seeing you, what was left of your face, shielded by the blanket sent a certain urge through Gaz. Not a sexual urge or a violent urge. It didn't even feel like a human desire. It was something beyond that. A guilty urge. A soul-haggling requirement to make things right.

He felt numb yet prickly all over, weak in the stomach and full of adrenaline. Then suddenly, it was gone. The second they lifted you into the ambulance, the feeling was snatched away from him. Gaz breathes heavily.

"...I-...I can't drop this mission, Captain... It's meant for me." He expresses, watching the ambulance pull off. He couldn't help but want to follow it, even knowing exactly where the thing was headed. "Whateva ya say, Gaz."

12:03am

Gaz can't seem to get himself to sleep, even knowing how snarky he can get if he doesnt get enough rest. He sits elbows out against his computer desk, constantly rewatching the final video you recorded. He knows it's not healthy, but something about your face drew him in, like a sailor to a siren's song.

There was something about the look on your face as you rambled on and on about God knows what, a melancholy smile making it's way onto his face as he watched you prolong your death. For someone talking to themselves, you were a great conversationalist, ignoring all the stuttering and trailed off sentences.

Can't really expect a girl to be calm and collected while she's trying to kill herself, can you?

To Gaz, it didn't really seem like you wanted to die. It seemed like you needed someone to talk to. He felt bad. Guilty. Something was telling him that if he'd gotten to you sooner, he could've talked you out of it. But even with the guilt, he couldn't move past how absolutely gorgeous you were to him. Just...raw, natural, frantic. No facade.

Gaz had a thing for crazy unpredictable women. His whole life, he's been a calm, level-headed guy and he was raised to remain chill in even the most devastating situations, and to help others in need.

So, seeing girls who were always on the verge of a break down, just a second away from chaos, it made him feel...leveled. he felt like he could help them. He wanted to help them. Badly.

He had an awful "I can fix her" mentality, and anytime he finds himself in a situation that he knows he can solve somehow, he feels bad when he doesn't. And he knows he could've helped you. He just...didn't. There was something much he could've done for you.

Bang! He shudders, watching you commit the final act. He was on his third time watching this video and he jumped every. fucking. time. He just could NOT prepare himself to see you die.

He closes his laptop, leaning down into his hands and rubbing his face. "Damn..." he cursed, sighing. "...why'd you do that?..." he asks in a whisper, almost angry that you didn't get the help you needed.

"... I'm sorry..."

His head lifts immediately, heart instantly palpitating. "Breathe, Kyle, Breathe" He tells himself, resetting his breathing patterns slowly but surely. He turns around to see a girl sitting at the edge of his bed. Not just any girl. You.

Your head was in...better condition. It was still put together of not for the smoke coming from the cracks around your eye, resembling the areas that had blown off.

"Oh, ☆☆☆." He turns out of his chair, pulling you close into his arms. "It's okay, baby, its alright." He cradles you against his chest. "It's okay, ☆☆☆...damn, you shoulda called me, girl....you shoulda called me..." He sniffles, clinging onto you like a little girl holding her broken porcelain doll.

"I forgot your number..."

Your voice was blank, monotone, with only a hint of emotion; shame. "I know, honey, I know...that's my fault. I shoulda kept in contact with you...uh, how much do you remember? Do you know who you are? Who I am?"

"..Kyle.."

"That's...that's right. Kyle. That's good. You're not far gone. What am I to you, ☆☆☆? What's our relationship?" He tries gage how much you remember after death. It would determine if you could still stay with him.

"My boyfriend..."

He sighs. You must not remember the breakup. He didn't want you to either. It made him feel awful. Gaz felt he shouldn't have left you during your worse. He knew you were going through so much and he just abandoned you. "Yeah, that's right, angel..."

Oh, his poor baby didn't even know... just dead and clueless. But he'd much wrather you not remember the breakup, knowing damn well that's probably what triggered your suicide in the first place. He wouldn't dare remind you that he was the cause.

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