#nate mann

Rosie the Indomitable had fallen.

ғᴜᴄᴋʙᴏʏ!sᴏᴘʜɪᴀ ʟᴀғᴏʀᴛᴇᴢᴀ x ғᴇᴍɪᴅᴏʟ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

♬♫~ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴇᴅ~♫♬

<ƒανσяιтє мιѕтαкє>

σνєяνιєω: It hurts Sophia to let you go, but you’ve already changed. By the time she was ready to change for you, it was too late.

мєηтισηs σƒ: ғᴜᴄᴋʙᴏʏ!sᴏᴘʜɪᴀ ʟᴀғᴏʀᴛᴇᴢᴀ, ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ sᴜʙsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴜsᴇ, ᴜɴsᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs, ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇѕѕɪᴏɴ, ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ👀??

They call you Sophia’s mistress, as if that’s all you’ll ever be to her. Yet the truth is, she’s just as desperate for you—for the warmth of your skin against hers, for the comfort of your arms holding her close, for the taste of your lips pressed to hers. To the world, you are her ‘favorite mistake,’ a secret she shouldn’t want but can’t let go of.

Her friends never liked you. They don’t hide their pity when they look at you, whispering that you deserve someone far better. In their eyes, Sophia is nothing more than a sweet talker, a girl with pretty words but nothing real to offer. Lara warned you. Daniela did too. They both told you the same thing: "Sophia will never be the one for you." "She’ll never give you what you truly need." And still, you stayed—because every stolen moment with her felt too intoxicating to let go, even when you knew they might be right.

At first, it was Sophia’s voice that caught you—gentle, warm, almost angelic. You thought to yourself, maybe she’s different. You were an idol too, admired by many, carrying softness in a world that often demanded hardness. When you looked at her, you thought she was just like you, someone who would understand the weight you carried.

But you were wrong. The truth cut deeper than you expected. She wasn’t the haven you thought she’d be. She turned out to be just as useless, just as disappointing as any man who had ever broken you. The only difference was that she's woman—a woman who couldn’t understand, a woman who offered nothing but empty words, a woman with no sense of what you truly needed.

You believed her—maybe she really was sick. You tried to understand, because you knew what it meant to be tired, what it felt like to carry the weight of being an idol, of being human. You told yourself she was just like you, that the pressure was breaking her too.

You opened Twitter just to scroll, hoping to ease the heaviness pressing down on you. Maybe a distraction, even for a moment. But instead of relief, the weight only grew heavier. Her face was everywhere—Sophia, your Sophia, trending again. A fresh post from one of those daily update accounts, a video taken only minutes ago. She was at a club, laughing, smiling, the strobe lights painting her skin. Women surrounded her, bodies pressing close, grinding against her as she bit her lip and swayed along, lost in the music. And the worst part was—it wasn’t the first time.

You’d seen this before, too many times, and each time it chipped away at whatever faith you were still holding on to.

She saw the screenshot—you made sure of it. You sent it to her, desperate for her to finally admit that she lied to you. Deep down, you were still hoping for an explanation, any reason that could make the hurt feel a little less sharp. But all you got was silence. She opened your message, looked at what you sent, and then left you on delivered. No words, no excuses, nothing at all.

At that point, you finally let her go. It wasn’t the first time she had hurt you, and deep down, you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Weeks passed, and soon you were at an award show. The lights were blinding, the cameras flashing, and everywhere you turned, idols were dressed like royalty. Katseye were there too, rising higher with every performance, their presence undeniable.

And then you saw them. You saw the girls. You saw Sophia.

Your heart tightened, but you forced yourself to look away. You avoided her—not the group, not the others, only her. Still, you could feel her eyes on you, burning holes through the noise and glitter. When you dared to glance her way, she was watching you with an eager look, almost desperate. She saw you standing there, dressed to perfection, flawless under the stage lights, like you hadn’t spent the night before drowning in your own tears.

Her gaze begged for something—recognition, forgiveness, maybe even longing—but you turned away, pretending not to notice. Because if you did, you knew you might break all over again.

You avoided Sophia the entire night, though you could still feel her eyes following you everywhere. Whispers and mumbles surrounded you, people talking about you, but you kept your focus on what had to be done.

The night was a success—you were recognized, and so were Katseye and the others. For a moment, you thought you had escaped her. You told yourself you had moved on, that none of it mattered anymore.

But then Sophia found you. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, her grip firm, pulling you into a quiet corner away from the crowd. You tried to pull free, to fight back, but she wouldn’t let go.

"Mahal, please, I’m sorry," she begged, her voice shaking.

"It wasn’t my intention to lie to you. I’ll change, I swear. Please…" Her words cracked as she pressed herself against you, kissing you desperately, her hands all over your body like she could hold you together. For a second, you froze—part of you wanted to give in, to fall back into the comfort of her touch, the sweetness you once believed in. Her kiss was warm, familiar, and for a moment it almost felt like everything could go back to the way it was.

But then the memories hit—the lies, the nights she left you alone, the videos of her with someone else, the tears you cried when she didn’t care enough to stay. The warmth in her kiss turned to poison on your lips.

You shoved her back, breath heavy, fury breaking through your chest.

"Stop it, Sophia! You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to lie, to hurt me, and then beg like nothing happened."

Her eyes filled with tears, lips trembling as if she wanted to speak.

"We were nothing, Sophia. Nothing real. And you—" your voice cracked, sharp with pain, "—you’ll never be the one for me."

Sophia’s face shifted, her tears drying into something sharper. Frustration burned in her eyes as she stepped closer, refusing to let you go.

"Nothing real?" she snapped, her voice low but shaking. "After everything we’ve done? After everything I gave you? Don’t stand there and pretend you didn’t want this as much as I did."

Her hand tightened around your wrist, nails digging into your skin as if holding you in place would force you to agree.

"You think you’re better than me?" she hissed. "You think you didn’t lie? You think you didn’t use me too? Don’t act innocent. You loved it—you loved me."

She leaned in again, trying to kiss you, trying to erase your words with her touch. "Stop pretending you don’t want this. You’re just angry. You’ll come back—because you always do."

That was it. The dam inside you broke. You yanked your wrist free, your voice cutting sharper than you’d ever intended.

"No, Sophia! I don’t always come back. I’m done. You lied to me, humiliated me, made me believe I wasn’t enough. And now you stand here, trying to twist it like I’m the problem? Like it’s my fault?"

Her face flickered, frustration giving way to something almost wounded, but you didn’t stop. Your chest burned, every word spilling like fire.

"You don’t get to gaslight me anymore. You don’t get to play with me, kiss me, and think I’ll forget everything you’ve done. I’m not your mistake, Sophia. I’m not yours at all." The silence that followed was heavy, her furious breathing the only sound between you. For once, she had nothing left to say.

That’s when Sophia finally realized—you were truly done with her.

For over a year and a half, you endured it all. Her constant nagging, her sharp temper, the way she ignored your needs as if they didn’t matter. The silent treatments that stretched for days. The lack of boundaries, the useless arguments that left you drained. And worst of all, the fame that had gotten into her head, changing her into someone you barely recognized anymore.

You had stayed through it all, holding on, believing she might change. But in that moment, standing in front of her, you knew there was nothing left to fight for. Sophia felt it too—the shift, the finality in your eyes. Her chest tightened, her throat burned. No… it can’t be over— she told herself. She wanted to scream, to deny it, to drag you back into her arms and make you listen. But underneath the anger, underneath the pride, was fear. Fear of losing the only person who saw her beyond the spotlight.

Her mind scrambled for excuses, for reasons, for anything to make you stay. She's just mad. She'll cool down. She always come back. But even as she thought it, she saw the truth in your stance, in the way you wouldn’t bend toward her anymore.

And it terrified her. Because for the first time, Sophia understood—she had finally lost you. Tears slipped past her control, smudging the perfection she carried into the night.

Her voice cracked as she grabbed your arm again, desperate, trembling. "Please… don’t do this," she begged, her pride falling away piece by piece. "I’ll change. I’ll do better. Just don’t leave me. Mahal, please."

Her voice shook, her tears staining her cheeks, but you stood firm. The pain in your chest was heavy, but you needed the truth. Just once.

"Do you even love me, Sophia?" you asked, your voice low but sharp, your eyes searching hers desperately. "Because if you do… say it. Say it now."

The world seemed to pause around you. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Her lips trembled, her eyes darted away, as if she couldn’t even meet the weight of the question. Silence stretched between you like a blade, cutting deeper than any argument ever had.

That was your answer.

All of this—the fights, the apologies, the begging—it was for nothing. She still wasn’t ready, still not willing to give you the one thing you needed most: certainty. Commitment. Love.

You almost gave in, almost let her kisses and tears break you down again. But her silence was louder than her pleas, louder than her sobs.

You pulled your arm free, your heart breaking as you whispered,

"That’s enough."

And this time, you walked away—not because you didn’t love her, but because her silence told you she never truly loved you back.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Without you checking in, Sophia’s days felt incomplete, as if something vital was missing—you.

The absence was deafening. No more of your constant questions, no more of your messages flooding her phone, no reminders of her schedule or little pushes to take care of herself. The silence carved an emptiness in her chest she couldn’t shake.

The girls noticed it too. Their leader, once so full of light, no longer carried the same spark. The cheerful, playful Sophia they knew had faded. She stopped going to parties. She stopped clubbing. She no longer slipped out into the night chasing temporary thrills. Instead, she stayed closer to home. She reached out to her family again. She leaned on her friends in quieter, more genuine ways. Slowly, the bad habits she once clung to began to fall away.

Sophia noticed it too. She saw the change in herself, felt it in the stillness she once ran from. She was becoming better…

but only because she had already lost you.

You, on the other hand, changed too—but in the opposite way.

Gone for weeks at a time, your name was constantly dragged into controversies. You were no longer the calm, collected person people once admired on stage. Instead, you drowned yourself in neon lights and cheap liquor, your nights consumed by clubs and bars.

You drank until your throat burned, until the music was loud enough to silence your thoughts. You surrounded yourself with strangers who didn’t care about you, only about the idol name you carried. Their hands on you, their laughter in your ear, none of it filled the emptiness Sophia left behind.

Scandals followed you like shadows. Paparazzi caught you stumbling out of cars, your eyes glassy, makeup smudged, clothes clinging with the smell of alcohol and smoke. Videos spread online—clips of you snapping at staff, of you pushing past reporters, of you disappearing into the night with people you didn’t even know.

Your fans tried to defend you at first, saying you were tired, overworked. But as the weeks turned into months, even they began to whisper. She’s not the same anymore. She’s spiraling.

And Sophia saw every bit of it. Every headline, every video, every cruel comment. She saw the way the industry painted you as reckless, ungrateful, a fallen angel. And no matter how much she tried to look away, she couldn’t. Because she knew the truth—your downfall wasn’t random.

It had a reason. It had a name. Her.

And that was the part that broke her most.

Sophia couldn’t take it anymore.

She had promised herself she would let you go, that she wouldn’t drag you back into the cycle of pain. But night after night, watching you spiral through headlines, watching the industry chew you up and spit you out, the guilt became unbearable.

So she broke her own rule.

At first, it was subtle—an old number lighting up your screen. “Did you eat?” … “Are you home safe?” … “Please don’t drink too much tonight.” Simple messages, desperate attempts to care from a distance.

When you didn’t reply, she sent more.

Her friends didn’t know. The girls didn’t know. Nobody knew she was still chasing your ghost in the middle of the night, her fingers trembling as she typed and erased words over and over before finally hitting send.

But your phone stayed silent. Her messages sat there, delivered but never opened. And with every unanswered text, Sophia felt the weight of her mistakes all over again.

She was changing, trying to be better, but you—the one person she wanted to prove it to—was slipping further away.

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ᴀ/ɴ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴇᴅ. /ᴊ ᴜʜᴍ... ʜɪ ɢᴜʏs><!!

🄴🄽🄶🄻🄸🅂🄷 🄰🄸🄽'🅃 🄼🅈 🄻🄰🄽🄶🅄🄰🄶🄴 🦅‼️

NATE MANN AS BRUCE WAYNE (yes ik there is other Gotham characters I didn’t do but I done some more of the main stream ones)