Carl Grimes Images 🧟‍♂️

Rage Filling Semi-trucks

Warnings: Mentions of death, sad fights, not proof-read.

This is a req from tumblr: Can u do carl grimes angst

after glenns death, negan has an impact on carl and y/n so they have very bad angst every day then negan notices and makes the situation worse so like he makes y/n try to k1ll carl to make her feel guilty 

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You could still remember his face, Glenn's face. His sad and pleading eyes looking at his wife, Maggie, as he said the words, "Maggie—I'll find you." Those were the final words that he spoke, those words haunted you and everyone.

Carl wanted to kill Negan, he hated him for what he did to both Glenn and Abraham. Both were strong and honest men who were loved to the moon and back. And now they were gone. And what really was the icing on the cake was that Negan would come by Alexandria and take resources, leaving the Alexandrians with barely anything.

And this enraged everyone.

You sat on the sofa, feeling helpless and miserable. You wished that he wasn't gone. Glenn was a father that you never had and always wanted. He was the light of your life. You didn't know how you were going to spend the rest of your life without him.

As your thoughts spiraled into a tornado, Carl walked by, his hair was dripping wet. He must've gotten out of the shower. "Are you okay?" asked the boy hovering over you.

Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you fucking okay?

Simply, no. You weren't. "Do I look okay, Carl? Do I fucking look okay? Glenn was a father to me. He was my best friend too. And now he's gone and I'll never seen him again!" You yelled with the force of a hundred thunderstorms. Your voice was unshaken.

"I miss him too! It's not just you, okay? I loved Glenn. He was family! I miss him all the time, every waking moment, I yearn for him." Carl replied.

He was right. It wasn't just you that missed him. Everyone missed him. Everyone who was present at the lineup missed him. Glenn was someone that was unforgettable. He changed and saved lives, including yours.

"Fuck. Congratulations, Carl! You were right, again! You're always right, aren't you? You and your smug smile," you scoffed. "Y/N, don't. Don't do this to me," he pleaded, his eyes watery, bringing you back to the night filled with terror.

"Fuck you for being right. Fuck you for being you." You ran out of the house, tears pouring down your cheeks. You couldn't believe it. He was being an asshole.

You heard a loud rattle of metal. "Rick, come on out! Let me in, baby! I need my shit now!" An all too familiar voice yell. Negan wasn't supposed to come for another week. Well, that's Negan Smith, the murderer of Glenn Rhee and Abraham Ford. So, you couldn't expect much from him anyway.

You watched as Rick went over and opened the gates of Alexandria. Negan, along with his crew, came in. "Woah, Rick! This shithole stinks. You ever use a bit of Febreze every now and then?" Negan joked.

You couldn't stand looking at him. You wanted to kill him and rip both his eyes out. But you needed a better plan. A plan that would guarantee Negan dead.

You went back inside and saw Carl putting his gun into his holster and a switchblade in his boot. You glared at him. You hadn't forgiven him yet.

It was definitely too early. "Y/N."

"What?" you replied.

He went closer to you, "Come on, we can kill that motherfucker together."

"You know what I want to do? Yeah, I wanna torture him. I want to rip his eyes out and cut his tiny little dick off. Then, I wanna bash his skull in like he did to Glenn."

Carl tilted his head.

"Y/N, we can do that together."

"No! Fucking no! I'm doing it alone. I don't want you with me. I'm not fragile. I never fucking was!" You yelled. You pushed him away.

"Y/N, you can talk to me."

"But do you listen? You just make it about yourself. Always trying to relate to make ME feel better. God, fuck you." you slapped him.

You went into the kitchen and opened a cabinet, you pushed away few boxes of stale cereal and grabbed the undocumented guns and knives. You picked a pistol and a switchblade.

You hid the switchblade in your boot and grabbed a holster from a different cabinet and put it on and tucked your gun in there. You adjusted your shirt, letting it hide the gun.

As you started to leave the house you said, "Carl, don't you think about following me."

You left, slamming the door. As you made your way down the porch, you heard someone call your name. "Oh, Y/N Rhee! It is Rhee, right? That's your last name."

The way your name rolled off his tongue, gutted you in a hundred ways, all ending with the same thing. Rage.

Y/N Rhee. He called you Y/N Rhee. Rhee. That was Glenn's last name. And he was using your name to ridicule Glenn's.

"Fuck you, Negan," you muttered.

He heard it. "Woah, the little miss can bark."

You looked around, no one was around. Not Rick, not Carl, not even Negan's goons. You discretely lifted your shirt up and grabbed the gun. You cocked the gun and ran to him, tackling him to the ground.

You put the gun to his forehead.

"I know you're sad. I've felt that pain before."

"No! You don't get to tell me about said. You do not get to do that. You're a monster. You are the fucking devil, Negan. And I'm ending it for you. Not tomorrow or later. But today."

Negan chuckled.

"No, you won't, dear. You're too pathetic and weak," said Negan.

It wasn't true. He was wrong. You had a strong will to kill him. And there was nothing preventing you to kill him. Nothing. You already had your finger on the trigger. You just needed to put a little bit more weight and he'd be bleeding out on the hot and rough ground, staining it.

"Do it. I dare you."

You couldn't. You got up and tucked your gun back in your holster.

"You know, you should never have your finger on the trigger if you're not ready to shoot. Have you ever even shot someone?" He asked.

You had. A few times. To you, those people you'd shot before were meaningless enemies. But to someone else, they were family.

"Yeah."

Negan nodded and sat next to you on the porch. "You know, kid, I'm sorry," Negan said with a smile.

"No, you're not," you replied. "You know that boyfriend of yours, Carl, right?"

You nodded.

"I heard you two fighting. Y'all were fucking loud! And I gotta say, that sounds like a fucked up relationship. Maybe It'd be better if he's dead." Death is something we all near each year and yet we try and stray far from. But now you had the opportunity to do it.

It'd be better. You two fought a lot. "Think about it, Y/N. It'd be freeing," and with that, he left.

You went back inside and grabbed your switchblade that you'd tucked in your boot earlier. Carl sat on the sofa, he looked angry.

"Oh, hey, Carl," you called out. "Hey, Y/N, listen, I'm sorry."

Everyone was sorry, but did they fucking mean it? No.

You charged at him and pushed him off of the sofa. You pinned him to the ground and brought your blade up to his throat.

"Y/N, don't do this."

"Stop telling me what I can and cannot do!" You yelled.

You brought the blade closer.

"I heard everything Negan said!" He blurted out.

You looked away, mortified. You listened to Negan Smith. You actually let him get inside your head. With that thought, tears streamed down your cheeks. "I'm sorry, Carl," you said.

You tossed the blade aside and the two of you got up and hugged each other.

"I let him get into my head. I let him... I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry."

"You don't have to be. Negan is just another fucked up, psychopath with parental issues who murders innocents for fun."

You laughed.

It was so fucking true.

───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

whats up? this is a req from tumblr. not proof read... heh. anyway send me more reqs!