#callmemrpoe

Chapter 1

Guys, I finished faster than I would! Pls tell me how it is. I'm still getting the hang of dividers, and I'll make a masterlist when I write a couple more stories. But Pls tell me what u guys think!

Chapter 2

The sky was burning. That was the last thing Y/N remembered. Smoke filled the air so thick it felt like breathing through cloth. The city around her had already collapsed into rubble hours ago. Buildings torn open, streets cracked apart, cars flipped over like toys. The sound was the worst part. Not the explosions. Not even the gunfire. The screaming.

Chapter 2

Hey Guys! How r u all feeling. Sorry that I had to post a ugly one before It was annoying I know. There was a error with my posting, appartly, I can't copy and paste a large txt. (From my doc I swear) So, I am tryping this out. By the way thx to al your love and support, I am litteraly so happy! I didn't think this series was a banger! Thx all the people who asked to tag them love you all soo much. Sorry that I have to tag you guy again! but have fun reading the same one, but better

Chapter 1

For a while, neither of them said anything. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, staring down at the wooden floor like it might explain how she got here. Alfred was still standing near the door. Hands folded. Back straight. Looking completely calm, like confused teenagers telling strange stories, was a normal part of his morning routine. Y/N sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “So,” she said slowly, “you’re probably thinking I lost my mind.” Alfred tilted his head slightly, still polite, still calm. “My duty is to ensure your comfort and well-being, Miss Y/N, not to make such assumptions.”

Hey guys! Hope y'all doin' good. I am back with yet another idea.

Batfam x neglected reader, but the reader is a multiverse! traveler. Like she travels universes and dimensions. But batfam has no idea, well, because they are busy neglected readers. Reader at first actually did try to make good bonds with them, but constant brushing off made her lose all her hope. Then, the reader discovers multiverse traveling. (How? Idk, this idea is pretty new...) Then she starts traveling and all, then one day she was summoned by other travelers. (Think like Spider-Verse HQ) And the reader has a pretty high name in that HQ because unbeknownst to her, she has been helping the universes continue their canon events. Then, when she was at her home universe (batfam one) she met a person from another universe at the manor. Both of them were confused, cuz the other person had no idea why the reader is in this universe. Will this change canon events of the reader's own universe? Will this affect the past or the future? can reader slip from that person and Alfred? Will Alfred find out? damn what will the batfam think?

Guys pls help me fill in the gaps and make this seed into a tree!!!

if you want to write the story, just do it. But tag me.

Also, the Future!Reader x Batfam idea is in the works, I am planning to finish it by Friday the 13...

Hey, fellas, I am back!

Hope u all are doing well, I have come up with what I think is a banger Idea. Do tell me if I should write it.

It’s Batfam x neglected reader. But the reader is actually from the future, the future reader has passed away in a war with aliens. (Take the future story of the movie The Tomorrow War starring Chris Pratt) So neglected!reader was very much neglected, and the future!reader was a very important figure in the war with aliens. She is amazing at tech and fighting cuz well, she is from the future. Also, she was very smart back in her time, too. And now she is back in a teenage girl’s body,100-150 years back in the past. And that reader is neglected. Will future readers want to return to save the future or make the people in the past aware of it and try to prevent the alien attack? Is she gonna build a time machine? Will the batfam notice her? Will she take revenge on the batfam for ignoring the neglected!reader?

Should I do it?

Btw, if you wanna write it, feel free to. Just tag me!

This is for @theonegeekgirl for their amazing idea (nothing goes unheard from me)

Chapter 1 — The One Who Stayed Cold

Miranda Priestly’s eldest daughter learned early that silence was safer than sound. Words only invited disappointment, emotion only invited rejection.

So Y/N learned to be quiet, perfectly quiet, the kind of quiet that made people uncomfortable, because it wasn’t meek. It was calculated. Detached. A silence that could slice.

By the time she turned sixteen, she had stopped waiting for her mother’s approval and began to build her own. Top of her class. Model student. No scandals, no distractions. She learned to smile politely at compliments and move past them before they could settle.

Her mother, of course, barely noticed.

When college acceptance letters arrived, Miranda’s only comment had been, “Columbia. Expected.” No congratulations. No I’m proud of you. Just expectation, cold and clinical.

Y/N told herself it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.

And yet… every time she walked past her mother’s office, every time she saw the twins laughing with her, that old ache twisted deeper. The same one she’d buried years ago under ambition and sarcasm.

At Columbia, she thrived. On paper. She spoke little, studied hard, and carried herself like she was perpetually two steps ahead of everyone else. Professors admired her. She was polite, brilliant, and utterly unreachable.

But every so often, she’d catch herself staring at mothers hugging daughters on campus move-in days or laughing over coffee on weekends, and her chest would tighten in quiet envy.

She never called home. Not until she found out her mother had missed the twins’ winter recital.

The call came from Cassidy, her younger sister. “She said she was stuck in Miami. Work thing. Didn’t even text.”

Y/N could hear the wobble in her sister’s voice, that same tremor she used to have, the one Miranda’s indifference carved into all of them.

Something inside Y/N snapped.

Before she could think twice, she was on the subway heading downtown, fury burning through her like electricity.

Miranda’s office was exactly as she remembered: glass, chrome, silence. The new assistant ,a brunette with soft eyes and too much sincerity for this place — was trying to organize a stack of portfolios.

“Miss Priestly isn’t—” the assistant began.

But Y/N was already storming past her, heels sharp against the floor.

She slammed open the office door. “Do you even realize what you’re doing to them?”

Miranda didn’t look up from her laptop. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“The twins,” Y/N spat. “They had their recital tonight. You promised them you’d come.”

“I was in Miami,” Miranda said, as if that explained everything.

“You chose to be in Miami,” Y/N shot back. “You always do. You chose it with me, and now you’re choosing it with them.”

Miranda’s eyes flicked up, sharp, tired, defensive. “I don’t have time for this melodrama. My assistant failed to secure the proper flights. It was beyond my control.”

“Then maybe,” Y/N hissed, “you shouldn’t plan trips that make you miss the few moments your children actually want you there.”

For the first time, Miranda went silent. Her hand froze on her pen.

The air between them pulsed with the kind of tension neither could stand.

Y/N exhaled sharply and turned to leave, and that’s when she saw her.

The assistant was standing by the door, trying to make herself invisible. Her face was flushed, her hands clutching a folder like a shield.

Andy Sachs.

Y/N’s gaze caught hers for half a second, and something shifted.

She wasn’t what Y/N expected. Not the usual polished, trembling fashion interns her mother chewed up and spat out. This one looked real. A little overwhelmed, maybe, but… kind.

Their eyes met.

Andy blinked, then managed a small, awkward smile, the kind of smile that looked genuine in a place that punished sincerity.

Y/N didn’t smile back. But she paused. Just for a heartbeat.

Miranda noticed.

“Close the door on your way out, Y/N,” she said, voice like ice.

Y/N did. But she didn’t forget that look, the one Andy gave her. Curious. Concerned. Maybe even understanding.

For the first time in years, someone had looked at her not like Miranda’s daughter, not like a disappointment, not like a shadow.

Just… her.

And though Y/N would never admit it, not even to herself, that look stayed with her for a long, long time...

I tried story type...

3 weeks

That’s how long Y/N had been gone. 3 weeks of polite police reports and fading headlines. 3 weeks of Miranda pretending to work, to sleep, to breathe. The twins still asked about their sister sometimes, voices careful, as if saying her name too loudly might shatter what was left of their mother.

Miranda didn’t know when the house stopped feeling like home. Maybe it was the first morning she realized no one had touched the piano. Maybe it was when she stopped making coffee for two. The silence had become something alive, now thick, heavy, deliberate.

It was Lizzie who finally said it. “You haven’t gone into her room since she left.”

Miranda hadn’t. Couldn’t. But that night, after everyone was asleep, she did.

Y/N’s door opened with a sound that made Miranda wince. The air inside was stale but familiar, the faint scent of lavender, of graphite, of something quietly human. Dust had gathered along the edges of the desk, on the lamp, on the shelf. Everything looked the same, perfectly untouched.

She sat on the bed, her hand brushing the nightstand. Something shifted, a soft scrape of paper against wood. Miranda frowned, leaned closer, and pulled it free.

A photograph.

It had been there the entire time. Hidden just beneath the edge of a book, flattened by dust.

She turned it over and froze.

Y/N.

Her hair loose, her smile small but real. Standing in front of a small café, holding a takeaway cup. Next to her, unmistakably, was Andrea Sachs.

Andrea, her hair shorter, her posture softer, her hand resting lightly on Y/N’s shoulder. Both of them were looking at something off-camera, laughing.

Miranda’s throat tightened.

On the back of the photograph, written in Y/N’s handwriting, were four words: It was fun, better than at home!

Miranda sat there for a long time, staring at the message until the letters blurred. She realized, with a sick twist in her stomach, that the picture must have been there for weeks, maybe since the day Y/N left. She’d walked past it every morning, every night, never once noticing.

She ran her thumb across the handwriting. It was faintly smudged, as if someone’s tear, or maybe rain, had blurred the last word.

That night, Miranda opened her laptop for the first time in months. She typed Andrea Sachs’s name into the search bar. The results flooded in: freelance journalist, advocacy columns, community outreach projects. A recent article caught her eye, “Listening to the Lost: Mentorship Through Art for At-Risk Youth.”

The article had a photo. Andrea was standing in a group of teenagers, art supplies, sketchbooks, and faces that were wary but hopeful. Miranda’s eyes scanned the crowd once, then again.

In the back, half turned away, sketchbook in hand... Y/N.

The screen flickered under the weight of her stare.

The timestamp read: Published three days ago.

Miranda’s breath caught, the kind of breath you take when a dream feels too close to be real.

She reached for her phone, hesitated, then dialed the only number she remembered by heart. Andrea’s.

It rang once. Twice. Then a click.

A voice, calm, composed, and unmistakably hers. “Miranda?”

Miranda’s throat worked, but no sound came.

Andrea exhaled softly on the other end. “I was wondering when you’d finally find the picture.”

Miranda’s fingers tightened around the phone. “…Where is she?”

Silence.

Since there were a lot of people who wanted part two for Miranda's first daughter, here it is! Thank you to the 13 people who actually wanted it! *hats off* *wiping tears* You young people have a place in this old lady's heart...

(To whomever owns this pic, which is not me)

Buckle up, buttercup! Mr. Poe just woke up!

• Y/N was born from love. Miranda's first husband, her only real love, used to hold Miranda like she was fragile glass and whisper promises to their baby girl. “She’ll be the light of your life,” he said once, pressing Miranda’s hand to her swelling belly. But when he died, that light became a torch Miranda couldn’t bear to carry.

• Miranda didn’t mean to abandon her. At first. It started with missed recitals. Forgotten birthdays. Then came the silence. Long, unspoken silence that filled rooms like smoke, thick and hard to breathe in.

• Y/N tried to understand. At eight, she wrote Miranda letters. At ten, she left drawings on her desk. At twelve, she stood in doorways like a ghost, waiting to be noticed. At fifteen, she realized she never would be.

• The twins came, and suddenly, Miranda remembered how to smile. But not at Y/N. Never at Y/N. She became the other daughter. The quiet one. The leftover.

• “Mum… Can we have dinner? Just us?” The plea was soft, hopeful, like a candle flickering in the wind. Miranda didn’t just blow it out. She smashed it.

“Why don’t you ever leave me alone?! Always asking this and that! Is the money I give you not enough to shut you up? God, I come home to rest, not to be pestered by your constant neediness! Don’t you have anything better to do than be a thorn in my goddamn side?! …God, I wish I never had you.” That last sentence was under her breath. But Y/N heard it. She heard everything.

• “I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, eyes glistening. “I didn’t realize I was… that much of a burden. ”She stood there for a second longer. Just in case Miranda changed her mind.  She didn’t. Women of her words 

• Y/N never asked again. No more notes on the fridge. No more invitations. No more soft footsteps lingering outside Miranda’s door, hoping for a "Goodnight, sweetheart." She didn’t even cry. She just disappeared. Slowly. Silently. Intentionally.

• Miranda didn’t notice. She was too busy being adored by the twins, too busy conquering the fashion world, too busy pretending she wasn’t haunted.

• Lizzie noticed. "She’s not eating,” she muttered. “She only takes toast now. Black coffee. Sometimes nothing at all.” Miranda waved her off. “Teenage moods. She’ll grow out of it.”

• Y/N grew colder, sharper. Her sarcasm became armor. Her wit, a blade. “Your skirt’s wrinkled.” “Ironic coming from the woman who wrinkled my childhood.” (She whispered that)

• At school, Y/N excelled. Quiet genius. Secret artist. A poet who bled grief onto paper and passed it off as fiction. The title: ‘Daughter of Absence’ She never told Miranda.

• Then came the slow exodus. Y/N stopped leaving traces of herself. Her toothbrush vanished from the bathroom. Her favorite mug... gone. No jackets on chairs. No forgotten shoes. No soft humming in the hallway. Just the sterile silence Miranda claimed to love.

• One day, Miranda came home early. No scent of incense. No soft jazz from under Y/N’s door. Something was off. She knocked. No answer. She opened the door. The room was... hollow. Bookshelf stripped. Closet half-empty. A single object sat on the bed: A photo. Y/N as a child, in Miranda’s lap. Both were smiling. On the back, scribbled in the margin: “That version of us never happened again.”

• That night, Miranda dreamt of her husband. He was standing beside Y/N. He said nothing—just looked at Miranda, disappointed, tired. Y/N didn’t even look her way.

• The next morning, Lizzie handed her a note. “Found this wedged in her window frame.” No envelope. Just a crumpled page, faintly smelling of lavender and ink. It read: “Don’t worry. I’m not dead. Just done.”

• Miranda sat on Y/N’s bed, clutching the photo like it could rewind time. The silence felt heavier than usual. For the first time in years, Miranda said her daughter’s name aloud. But no one answered.

How was that? Next part? Ask and you shall receive. But keep in mind, I’m built to leave.

Sighed, wrote, and had a snack—Mr. Poe’s off, might not come back

OFC!!!! Gosh, I have no idea when this came into my inbox. But OFC I will, I just have no idea how to take The Devil Wears Prada from now at chapter 3... So, I will write it as soon as I get ideas!!!.

BTW people remember a while ago, I was talking about Alcina Dimitersu x Neglected reader? Should I post an idea for that too?

Also, Thank You for all your support for the Multiverse traveller Reader x Batfam. I am also thinking of writing a story for that. I will try to post Chapter One for both of them by the end of this week!!!