Love is Possible (The walking dead group x Rapper!Singer!Reader)

1 - The beginning

Author's Note: In this story I'm going to make Carl a little older so he can also catch feelings without it being weird. And for the record, in this story you have sleeve tattoos because that's just badass. And warning: swearing, gore yada yada. What can you expect from a Zombie Apocalypse? Enjoy :P

OH, and btw the music up there is what your rapping n singing in this chapter.

3rd Person's P.O.V

(Italics indicate you singing/rapping by yourself. Bold indicates the crowd rapping or singing with you)

"It's not fair. I found love..it made me say that get back."  You softly sung into the microphone, the crowd  screaming your name continuously. You held the microphone out in front of you, walking back and forth in front of the stage letting the crowds sing the rest of the lines. "You'll never, see daylight. If I'm not strong, it just might.." You smirked largely and proudly at your fans, the flashing lights lighting up the whole stage that was on the open fields. You ruffled your (H/C) (Hair colour) hair, straightening the black hat that occupied your head. Seeing as your hat was on backwards, you could only push it down on top. The crowds kept singing the main chorus that repeated, your smirk never leaving your face. You pointed to the crowd, showing off your hand tattoos that decorated your fingers and knuckles which trailed all the way up to your shoulders. Your other hand held the mic close to your face. "They figure me a dead motherfucker but I'm just a motherfucker  that wanna be dead. Snow leopard with the lead in his head, turning me into sweater. Fuckers using me as their  fucking bedspread."  Again, you held the mic out towards the crowd who sung the lyrics after. "I be the silhouette of a sunset, smoke a cigarette while compress my depression, stare into the violet fluorescent lights makes me violent. I'm tryna get tha highest I can get before I overdose and die." You brought the mic closer to you but still kept it pointed at the crowd. You sung with your screaming fans, moving your hands to the beat of the music. "My ribs are nothing but an empty cage, black hole in my chest, Big Bang, Yung Plague on the tip of a wave. In my head it feels like I'm a guest so I'll throw it all away because when I'm dead I'll be nothing decomposing in a grave. I'm matter but I don't matter, I can feel my skull shatter from the dull clatter, brain scattered on the wall, grey stains won't dissolve, going to have to paint it all." You breathed, letting the crowd sing the chorus for you while you caught your breath, readying for the next fast lines. You walked across the stage, your sweat making you glow under the flashing lights. You closed your eyes and listened to your fans sing the lyrics. You put your heart into these lyrics, every verse relating to your life. Minus the vulgar language, it was all poetic. Your songs meant a lot to you, especially this one. You hoped it would help others, or at least numb their depressions. You loved most of your fans. Almost all were supportive and loved your work. The odd hater would pop up, but you could easily ignore them. However, some fans were creepy and weird but what could you expect? You were a very beautiful girl, and some appreciated that too much. Your arms were inked with beautiful designs, each holding a different meaning. They reached your shoulders, bringing out the faint but noticeable muscles you had gained. You didn't like to admit it, but you had to work up your strength and agility to act as a defence against the violent paparazzi, and the desperate fans. You had even learnt how to fire a gun because of all the gangs that are hired to kill you. You knew you were walking into a trap when you first started writing music, but it never occurred to you that it would be this terrible. Despite that, you were humble and thankful for what you had. 

As the next line was nearing you brought mic close to you again. You bit your lip, knowing the verses approaching meant the most to you. No one knew, but it was true. A broken song about a broken girl hidden by a stunning and strong mask that prevented everyone seeing the trembling woman you truly were. You breathed, then let the words flow out of your mouth as if it were a river. "Always boasting my emotions on how I'm so fucking broken, think I'm jokin' when I'm talking about blowing my head open, till the moment you walk in and find my body motionless. Wrists slit, thoughts of  slick keep falling in an open pit, shit." You held the mic out to the bouncing fans. "Always burn my bridges cause I'd rather fall in ditches." You joined in. "If life's a game of bitches then I have been the biggest (I changed the lyrics here), and my goals to fuck the world until that motherfuckers twitchin', lane switchin', same mission to die and blame my addiction bitch." You breathed, letting the crowd once again sing the chorus. You wiped your forehead, blinking and turning to grin at the crowd. As the song was coming to the end, you took of your sleeveless  body warmer and threw it to the side, feeling hot from all the energy and adrenaline that was pumping through you. Your black top was also sleeveless and it stopped just above your ribcage, so your faint six pack (or cute pudgy belly x3) was exposed. Your belly button ring was bright under the lights, and drew attraction to it. You stomped your timberlands lightly, to get everyone's attention and smiled widely when they kept cheering and yelling your name. It was a nice feeling, it made you feel admired.