#viscount theodore of dearden

[corner-stories]

like one of your french girls

Rose Wilson. Mia Dearden. Charcoal Drawings. Pitbulls. Poolsides. 1549 words. (ao3.)

Rose Wilson sat on a sunlounge by the rooftop pool of Titans Tower, a sketchbook in her lap, a slew of art supplies by her side, and a piece of charcoal grasped between her nimble fingers. Periodically, she would glance up from her paper, take in her subject as they lay in the light, then furiously scribble down the details she observed. 

Art was one of her healthier coping mechanisms, but like most things in life Rose approached it with her own brand of intensity. She was often meticulous regarding her work, once spending an hour sitting at Torpedo Wharf to draw Golden Gate Bridge. 

Gouache, watercolors, and oil paints were her usual forte, but today Rose had equipped herself with charcoal sticks for a self-imposed challenge.  

Working diligently, Rose shaded the shadows where the light hit her subject’s ears, making sure to depict the shape as accurately as she could. 

But as she did so, her subject exhaled audibly and turned over in their sleep, suddenly changing the entire perspective of the art being created. 

Letting out a huff, Rose glared daggers at her subject.  

“Well, if that’s how you’re going to act.”

While Rose attempted to salvage the sketch, Viscount Theodore of Dearden — Speedy’s large, chunky, sixty-pound pitbull mix — laid on the pool deck under a ray of light. Clearly, he didn’t get the memo that Rose was using him for sketching practice and continued to sunbathe like a giant, blobby potato. 

As Rose shaded her drawing and Teddy let out a peaceful snore, the dog’s owner was the only one actually making use of the pool. 

Mia Dearden swam laps in the water, performing a rather impressive butterfly stroke as she swiftly maneuvered from one end to the other. While there was nothing special about Speedy’s preferred form of cardio, every once in a while Rose would look over to her teammate and admire her form. 

Rose had to admit that for a hero without superpowers, Green Arrow’s mouthy sidekick was surprisingly muscular and strong despite her size. 

Rose had witnessed Mia in the Tower’s gym multiple times. More often than not, she was either administering an ungodly amount of punches onto a heavy bag, practicing arm bars and leg locks on a grappling dummy, launching projectiles of any kind towards a target, or doing an exceeding amount of muscle ups with a weight vest. 

And when she wasn’t doing any of that, she was playing with her dog in the middle of the sparring mat. At least she was resting between sets. 

Rose took in a breath as she finally salvaged her drawing. She made sure that the shading perfectly replicated the dark shade of Teddy’s fur, the way his ears flopped over his stupid skull, and the utter chonkiness of his rear end. 

While Rose put the final touches onto her piece, Mia finished her laps and climbed out of the pool. Rose only glanced at Speedy emerging dripping wet from the water for a brief second, then redirected her gaze to her sketchbook. 

Once the drawing was finished, Rose held it up at an angle so she could see both her sketchbook and the large, lounging pitbull mix. In her non-professional opinion, she fully believed that she artfully captured the girth, laziness, and absolute cuteness that was Viscount Theodore of Dearden lying by the water’s edge. 

With a grin, Rose proudly turned the page in her sketchbook and brought herself to a blank slate. She then glanced around the poolside of Titans Tower in search of the next thing to draw. 

As Rose looked around, she caught sight of Mia prodding barefoot across the pool deck, making her way towards both her dog and her teammate. As she did so she squeezed a handful of her hair and let the water dribble off and onto the ground. 

After grabbing a towel off the vacant sunlounge next to Rose’s, Mia sat down and began patting herself dry. After a few moments of that, she laid back and let the rays of the sun warm her. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” the Archer asked in a relaxed tone. 

Rose rolled her eye. “Actually, I do.” As per usual, her voice was more sarcastic than serious. 

Mia remained playful as she caught her breath, obviously fatigued from her workout but happy to have completed it. She reached to the table between the sunlounges, where most of Rose’s art supplies lay, and grabbed her sunglasses. She only had to wipe off a little bit of charcoal dust before putting them on. 

Before Mia could get too comfortable, Viscount Theodore of Dearden began awkwardly climbing onto the seat. Mia grinned as her dog hauled his chonky ass up and walked towards her, immediately finding a spot for himself on his master’s legs. Despite being sixty pounds, he seemed to be convinced that he was a lap dog and made sure to act like one.

Fortunately, Mia wasn’t one to complain.

“Hey there, handsome,” she cooed as she scratched the Viscount behind his ears. “You’re not annoying Rose, are ya?”

When the pitbull looked up at her, his tail was wagging back and forth like a cute, deadly whip. 

Rose was not dead enough inside to deny the cuteness of the thicc Viscount. He was possibly the best looking thing to ever grace Titans Tower. Second to her, of course. The way he looked at his beloved human was — dare Rose say it — adorable.

But after collecting herself once more, Rose began rifling through her drawings, which included artful depictions of her brother’s poodle perm, her motorcycle, an overpriced cup of boba, and lilies in various colors. She hoped that one of them would inspire her, but alas — the spark that usually ran through her head that ignited a burst of artistic vigor was absent. 

Rose had been only drawing and painting for six months, but during that time something that she had learned the hard way was that art supplies in San Francisco was very expensive and that artist block was very real. 

Letting out another sigh, Rose laid back and silently admitted her defeat. 

“Looking for something?”

When Rose looked to the right, Mia was still being pinned to the chair by sixty pounds of pittie mix. 

“Just the next thing to draw,” she answered. 

Mia grinned, then struck a pose to the best of her abilities, one that involved putting a hand behind her head and smiling like a 50s pin-up model. 

“How about me?” she offered cheekily. “Like one of your french girls?”

Rose let out a scoff. It was fortunate that she found Mia funny on occasion — had that not been the case, then she would’ve written Speedy off as another boring square on the team’s roster. 

It was also fortunate that Rose tolerated Mia slightly more than the rest of the team. She wasn’t really sure how it all started. Whether it be because they were both the token asocial weirdos of the team — Mia was often shy and quiet around the Titans and Rose’s reputation spoke for itself — or because of something else, Rose didn’t really know. 

All she did know was that it led them both here. 

But looking at Mia now, as the Archer lounged in the sun and the droplets on her skin made her muscles practically glisten, the spark in Rose’s head that she had believed to be gone was suddenly… alive. By the grace of the art gods, it had fired up again. The motivation to create made Rose’s hand twitch as the gears in her head began to turn. 

Quickly, she grasped one of her charcoal sticks. “Actually, hold that pose...”

For a few seconds Mia blinked. She hadn’t been expecting Rose to take her seriously.

“Uh…” the blonde stammered out. She visibly tensed up as she tried to maintain her pose. “Like this?”

Rose nodded and began drawing. “Yep.”

Mia let out an awkward chuckle, then took in a breath. He moved her free hand and placed it on the back of her dog, seemingly stabilizing the now napping canine. 

“Uh… okay,” she said. She gave a quick, concerned glance to her dog. “Fair warning, I can stay still, but no promises for the big guy here.”

Rose had shifted back into artist mode, going between gazing at her lovely subject and the sketch on her paper. A strange benefit of the discount super-soldier serum in her veins was an enhanced ability to perform fine motor skills, which allowed her to both wield a knife with deadly precision and draw things with immense speed and attention to detail. 

Already she could see Mia Dearden in charcoal form on her page — having depicted the muscles in her back, the definition in her shoulders, her damp hair sticking to her forehead, and the scars on her cheek, chin, and forehead. As she shaded in the lines on Mia’s face, Rose could already feel herself being inspired by them, being allured by the blemishes her teammate had accumulated from her time on the field. 

“Not a problem,” Rose said as she continued to draw. She utilized some extra shading to detail how the scar on Mia’s left cheek almost looked like a dimple. “Not a problem at all.”

[corner-stories]

the thicc viscount

Mia Dearden. Stephanie Brown.

Team-Ups. Pitbulls. Scars.

2189 words.

(ao3.)

On an average night in the Pacific Northwest, Mia Dearden was in the midst of thwarting a weapons trafficking case. No big deal. 

With the assistance of one of Gotham’s many bats — who just happened to be investigating the same group of smugglers on the other coast — she chased down a truck full of illicit substances through the heart of downtown Seattle, utilizing the motorbike she had been tinkering with for months. 

The blonder and more talkative Batgirl proved to be quite handy during the chase, as she took the handles of Speedy’s motorcycle as Seattle’s resident archer leapt onto the rushing semi-trailer truck. The vehicle zipped past Smith Tower as Speedy made her away towards the cab, her heart beating fast as determination surged through her veins. 

At least the Seattle residents who were whipping out their smartphones to record the scene were bound to get a sick new video of their local hero.

With her trusty combat knife — which included an integrated glass-breaker — Mia breached the windows of the vehicle and slipped right in. Inside the confined space of the vehicle, the driver grit his teeth and pulled out a blade of his own. Fortunately for the plucky archer, the only thing he was able to do was nick her forehead right under her hairline. 

Even more fortunately, Mia was used to the concept of fighting in a confined space as a bleeding head wound painted a red line down her pretty face (which said a lot about her kind of lifestyle, but she didn’t like to think about that). 

In due time, Mia managed to incapacitate the driver with a few swift strikes, then managed to stop the vehicle before things got even more messy. She didn’t even have to rely on her last resort, as it wouldn’t bode well for Speedy if the people of Seattle saw her drop a vehicle of smuggled goods into Elliott Bay… for the third time. 

With the weapons trafficker apprehended and the semi-trailer truck halted in front of the Seattle Public Library, Mia hopped out of the vehicle and plopped the perpetrator onto the sidewalk. As she secured his hands and feet with some heavy duty cable ties, she swore she could hear him grumbling about how two random-ass nineteen-year-olds with capes managed to thwart his entire operation. 

Once everything was done, Mia had just enough time to secure a sterile pad over her bleeding forehead before Batgirl zipped by on a motorcycle that was definitely not hers. 

With a playful smith, the Bat offered the Archer a ride, and who was Mia to refuse such a lovely prospect? 

The authorities came by just as the pair of plucky blonde heroes escaped the vicinity. As they moved through the streets and Batgirl let a few excited whoops out into the Seattle night, Mia could feel her heart racing in her chest like it was about to burst out. Her entire being was filled with a rushing sensation that she couldn’t exactly describe, yet one that brought the goofiest smile to her face. 

It was moments like these that made Mia wish that the night could never end. 

But soon an hour passed and Mia was forced to focus on other things — namely, how to fix that gash on her head. 

Standing in the bathroom of her “arrowloft,” she glanced up to her mirror and focused on the gauze she had haphazardly taped to her forehead. She had initially believed that she did a good enough job playing roadside doctor, but looking at the dressings now she figured that Lian could’ve done a better job. And Lian once forgot seven letters of the alphabet. 

Mia sucked in a breath as she reached up to her wound. She gently undid the dressings and tried not to wince too hard as the semi-healed cut came into sight. Unsurprisingly, disrupting the bandages caused the injury to start bleeding again. 

Mia grumbled as she grabbed a washcloth and began cleaning her head gash, as well as the line of blood on her face. 

Once the gash looked slightly less concerning, Mia only briefly toyed with the concept of stitching herself up, but soon sighed and deferred to using butterfly closures, as per usual. 

As she worked she affixed her gaze towards her reflection, then thought long and hard about whether or not she would be adding another scar to her collection. Her eyes would only briefly glance upon the uneven tissue on her arms, shoulders, or abdomen, and occasionally towards the ones on her face. 

It was moments like this where Mia could take in how she looked. Every day she got older she began to see features of mother etched onto her face — from her shade of blonde to her pair of gentle brown eyes. However, Mia couldn’t remember her mother having faded lines across her cheek and jawline, or a nose that was slightly bent from too many fist fights. 

At this point in her life she couldn’t remember which scar came with which story. The ones from her hero life and the ones from her biological father’s rage were beginning to look the same. 

After applying the butterfly closures, washing her bruised knuckles, and popping a few ibuprofen tablets from the value-sized jar, Mia left her bathroom and tried to act like a normal human being in front of her guest. 

Stephanie Brown had made herself comfortable in the little Seattle loft that Mia (and Speedy) called home. Unsurprisingly, her attention and focus had been placed on the unit’s other resident.

Viscount Theodore of Dearden — or Teddy, as his master liked to call him — was Mia’s sixty-pound rescue dog. He was officially deemed to be half pitbull and half god-knows-what, but his beloved human liked to consider him one hundred percent couch potato.

Currently, the absolute unit of a pittie mix was lying on the floor of the loft’s living area, smiling and wagging his tail as Stephanie happily rubbed his stomach. 

The Archer couldn’t help but smile. As she walked over she grabbed a sweater off a chair and pulled it over her torso, perhaps in an attempt to take attention away from the blemishes on her skin. At least when she finally arrived at the two on the floor, Stephanie was much more preoccupied by the lazy blob on the carpet. 

Mia’s place was reasonably clean. Sure, the odd kettlebell or quiver had been dropped on the floor, but she managed to make the place look presentable when she learned she would be having a guest. 

On the coffee table were Batgirl’s and Speedy’s costumes. As Mia plopped herself onto the couch, she couldn’t help but notice how put together Stephanie’s suit seemed to be. Plates of lightweight, high-density plastic were bound together by flexible, yet rugged textured material. Even if it couldn’t take the entire bite out of a bullet, it could let the wearer live to see another day. 

In contrast, Speedy’s suit was as battered and battle-worn as one would expect. Seeing it next to a nearly pristine suit made Mia feel like an absolute slob. Perhaps it was time for Speedy to give her gear a more intricate makeover and not just a paint job. 

“Who’s a chonky boi, huh?” said Stephanie in a playful, baby-like voice. “Who’s the chonkiest?” 

“Having fun?” asked the Archer. As she laid on the couch she tried to ignore the aches in her muscles and joints — the ibuprofen certainly liked taking its sweet time to kick in. Perhaps it was time to switch to extra strength. 

Stephanie nodded and smiled from ear to ear. “Lots of it, you should’ve told me you had a big ol’ stocky boi.” 

“Yeah, it must’ve slipped my mind,” Mia replied, amused. 

For a moment she yawned and rubbed her tired eyes. She wasn’t even sure how late it was anymore, but a quick glance at her window implied that it was early in the morning, if the sun just barely rising above the horizon was any indication. 

Stephanie continued to give the pitbull stomach pets, so much so that Viscount Theodore began lying on his back completely and let his stocky legs stick upwards. He had the doofiest smile on his face as he basked in the attention. 

“By the way, I told Oracle that we stopped the thing,” Stephanie soon spoke. 

Mia nodded. “And…?”

“She’s glad we finished the mission, but she’s not too happy about leaving the truck in front of the library,” Stephanie confessed, shrugging. 

Mia’s first reaction was to let out a chuckle. “Well, then remind me to leave a note next time — Caution, Do Not Open: Smuggled Soviet-Era Assault Rifles Inside.” 

Stephanie let out a laugh, then beamed at the Archer in a way that could remind one of a very excited golden retriever. 

“You’re funny,” she remarked, her words sounding genuine. “Why don’t we hang out every night?”

“Because Gotham’s on the other coast,” Mia replied, partially joking and partially not. 

Mia had only worked with Stephanie once before, and by now that time felt far behind her. The case involved a plain-clothes investigation on the east side of Gotham. Truth be told, neither Mia nor Steph were planning on getting into a fist fight in a grocery store parking lot, but at least they were both versed in the art of rolling with the punches — literally. 

Tonight was certainly a lot more chaotic than punching a bunch of dudes in front of a Whole Foods, but even with the bruises on her knuckles and the new mark on her face — Mia would not trade it for the world.

Plus, it was just nice to have company sometimes. 

Nowadays her family members were often spread thin across the country. Whether it be Dinah working with the Birds or Roy working with the League, the fact always seemed to stand that everyone was just busy. Unavailability never came from malice, it just happened and Mia knew it. 

But it didn’t stop her from spending months alone in a Seattle loft, and during such times she would truly miss the Californian sun. Sometimes she wondered why she picked such a drearily overcast city to operate in for Speedy’s attempt to “go solo.”

At least she had a big chonky rescue dog to keep from feeling too isolated.

Speaking of which, Mia looked at her absolute unit of a pitbull on the floor. The second the two made eye contact and Mia patted her thigh, the thicc viscount immediately got up from the floor, shook his head so fast that his ears slapped his stupid skull, and hopped onto the couch. 

Despite being sixty pounds, Viscount Theodore of Dearden seemed utterly convinced that he was a lap dog and lounged on his owner’s legs as if he were a pomeranian. Mia didn’t seem to care though, as affectionately scratched his forehead and gazed lovingly into his beady, black eyes. 

Stephanie could only smile as she pulled herself off the floor and sat on the couch. 

“Ahhh, I see — your master gets priority, huh?” said the Gothamite in a playful tone. 

For a moment Mia watched as Stephanie continued to adore Seattle’s most blobby pitbull, spending a few seconds to take in the other blonde. 

Stephanie’s eyes were blue, but a lighter shade than Mia expected. On top of them, she couldn’t help but notice faint marks on Stephanie’s face — or perhaps, the lack thereof. 

Looking at Stephanie now, Mia could not have guessed that half the shit she read in Spoiler/Batgirl’s files actually happened to her. But perhaps some people were better at hiding their scars than others.

Before Mia could fall any further into her mental rabbit hole, she forced herself to speak. 

“By the way, you’re welcome to crash here for a night,” she said, doing her best to maintain the appearance of a normal functioning human. “Gotham’s a long teleporter ride away, y’know?”

Stephanie looked utterly charmed. “You’re too kind.” 

Mia smiled bashfully. “It’s the least I could do.”

A few seconds passed and Stephanie gave Mia the same warm, loving look that she had been giving to the dog all night. 

“It’s nice to know I still got time to play with this chonky boi,” said Stephanie, giving Viscount Teddy a few more stomach pats to emphasize her point.

Mia gestured behind her, where there was a staircase leading to the loft’s second floor. 

“You can take my bed, it’s just up there.” 

Stephanie’s smile was quick to falter as she shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t.” 

“It’s fine, you’re my guest,” Mia assured. With a playful expression, she then glanced towards the large sixty pound pitbull now falling asleep on her lap, effectively pinning her to the cushions for the rest of eternity. 

“Besides… I think I live here now.” 

The pair of plucky blondes then let out a lighthearted, mutual laugh.

In no time Stephanie’s unease faded away, and suddenly she laid back on the couch, lounging happily as if it was where she belonged in the world. 

“Well… if you insist, Speedy.” 

[corner-stories]

pitbulls and gyms

Mia Dearden. Rose Wilson.

Heavy Bags. Gazing. Puppers.

888 words.

(ao3.)

After a mildly exhausting search around Titans Compound, Rose Wilson finally found the one she was looking for. Upon entering the gymnasium, she took a few steps into the space and soon the telltale sign of the team’s designated archer. 

Viscount Theodore of Dearden — i.e Mia’s sixty-pound pitbull mix, lazed in the corner of the room like a big blob. The giant baby lounged on the floor with all the grace of a potato, contributing jack all to society but looking rather cute while he did it. While Teddy’s chest was muscular and his jaws were large, his beady eyes and tendency to whimper at the slightest inconvenience guaranteed that he could never hurt a fly. 

The only pitbull stereotype that Teddy truly lived up to was the fact that he looked absolutely dashing in the knit sweater he often sported. Apparently, he would weep in despair if he got the slightest bit cold.  

Rose eyed the dog and gave him a polite nod. Teddy shifted his gaze to her without moving his head, then went back to lying on the floor like a giant muscular rug. 

Rose then looked to the Archer in the room.

Mia Dearden stood in her own corner of the gym, sporting a pair of boxing gloves on her hands and a weighted vest over her torso. With all her might she thrust her fists into a heavy bag, moving them with enough speed and grace to very much live up to her name. She was light and springy on her feet, her right jab was quick and her left hook was deadly. Every time the glove made contact, a satisfying smacking noise would resonate throughout the space.

There was no sign of aggression as she hit the bag — rather, a sense of calculation, of coldness, an indication that every strike was planned to the dot, from the way she turned her hips for power to the way she sunk her fist into the leather. Perhaps that in itself was a hair more terrifying than pure rage. 

Unfortunately, Rose wasn’t here to admire Mia’s training regimine. 

“Yo, Speedy!” she yelled over the shitty pop music playing in the gym. “Your car’s blocking my bike, can you move it?” 

Mia stopped hitting the bag and looked to her teammate. Her face was drenched in sweat, causing strands of blonde to stick to her pretty face. In contrast to Rose’s annoyance, Mia seemed amused.

“Always good to see you, Ravager,” Mia smirked. With her teeth she undid the velcro fasteners of the gloves and pulled them off. “And of course.”

Mia dropped her gloves to the corner of the room, giving her hands a quick shake. “You caught me at the right time,” she noted, undoing the straps on her vest. 

As perturbed as Rose was with the situation — i.e standing in the midst of the gym clad in her biker jacket because someone was too lazy to park her ‘81 Camaro properly — she couldn’t help but eye Mia once the vest hit the ground.

Mia was well-muscled and lean, even for someone as vertically challenged as her. Her shoulders and back in particular were impressively toned, a clear side effect after years of archery. Perhaps Mia’s habit of chugging egg whites and eating steamed chicken breasts had paid off.

Had Rose not been preoccupied with a rather vexing predicament, she would have been impressed. She would have even laughed at the Archer’s ‘sun’s out, guns out’ crop top. Perhaps under different circumstances she would even deem Mia desirable, but not desirable enough to tempt her. 

As Mia grabbed a towel to wipe off her face, she noticed the way her teammate was looking at her, reacting with more surprise than anything else. 

“Whatcha’ lookin’ at, Ravager?” asked Mia.

Rose was quick to scoff. “Nothing,” she remarked dryly, crossing her arms. With an air of indifference she looked her teammate up and down one more time. “You spend too much time on your abs, not enough on your triceps.”

Mia was amused as she took a swig of water from her bottle. “Glad you noticed.”

As if on cue, Viscount Theodore of Dearden hopped up onto his stubby legs. After giving himself a customary shake, he began wagging his tail as he walked up to Rose, getting onto his back legs and pressing his paws against her pants. He smiled like the adorable blob he was, a sight that not even Rose could resist.

With a gentle grin she patted the little Viscount’s head. “Hi, Puppy.”

Teddy wagged his tail so hard that his rear end began to shake. 

With a towel draped around her neck Mia walked over. She snapped her fingers at her dog, a gesture that immediately caused the canine to prod over to his master and sit by her side. Even as he beamed with his mouth open and tongue sticking out, he was as loyal as any pup came. 

“Come, Viscount Theodore,” said Mia, affecting her voice with mocking poshness. She led her dog and teammate out of the gym. “We’ve got a vehicle to move.” 

Rose stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Do you always have to treat your dog like some duke lord guy?” 

Mia turned back to flash a playful smirk. “Always.” 

[corner-stories]

a moment's thought

Bart Allen. Mia Dearden.

Dogs. Synthesizers. Scars.

2196 words.

(ao3.)

Bartholomew Henry Allen II made a trip to the Pacific Northwest, to a loft just south of Downtown Seattle in the Industrial District. 

The place was mostly gray with sturdy metal beams embedded into the exposed brick walls. The unit consisted of two floors, the larger living room and kitchen area, and placed above that the ‘bedroom’ accessible by a flight of stairs. Additionally, there was a large bay window overlooking the living space, and even with the curtain pulled over it one could still hear the sound of the storm outside. 

The weather of the Emerald City was as dreary as one could expect — rain with a side of cloudy skies and rushing winds, so much so that the droplets outside were hitting the building sideways. 

But Bart wasn’t there to admire the lovely ambiance of the Pacific Northwest. In fact, he had made the trek all the way to the city to do a task that involved a computer, several monitors, and an absolute labyrinth of wires underneath a desk. 

As Bart laid on the floor to better access the computer cables, the owner of the loft was going through her usual routine. 

Unsurprisingly, Mia Dearden had fitted her home with a variety of fitness equipment. Alongside some parallettes, kettlebells, and dumbbells, she had hung a pair of wooden gymnastic rings from a load-bearing beam in the unit’s living room. 

With a weight vest strapped to her torso, she went through her workout — apparently under the belief that normal rings muscle-ups were not difficult enough. 

While Bart played the part of IT Guy and Mia exercised like an absolute unit, the third resident of the loft was currently asleep. 

Teddy the sixty-pound pitbull mix — or Viscount Theodore of Dearden, as his master liked to call him — napped on the couch like a giant potato. Despite possibly being the most muscular doggo on the west coast, he was surprisingly lazy. He didn’t even perk up when Bart suddenly sped into his master’s home. 

After finishing her final few muscle-ups, Mia let go of the rings and landed on the floor with a distinctive thump. As she wiped a bead of sweat off her brow, she looked over to the speedster currently fixing her computer. 

“How’s it looking?” 

“You need some cable organizers or something,” Bart said, remaining under the desk like a mechanic would with a car. “There’s like… eighty-five of ‘em down here.” 

Mia walked over to grab her water bottle from the coffee table. “Yeah, sorry about that, I haven’t had time to sort that out.” 

“Meh… I’ve dealt with worse,” Bart assured, shrugging. “You should see Wally and Linda’s computer set-up, it’s like… cable hentai.” 

Being under the table when he spoke, Bart missed Mia’s reaction to his comment, which involved an expression that was equal parts confused, appalled, and horrified. 

After shakily taking a sip of water, Mia eyed her big black pittie mix on the couch. Teddy was currently napping on his back, his face and legs twitching slightly as he drifted deeper and deeper into doggy dreamland. 

Amused, Mia watched as her dog began spasming more and more. Knowingly, she spent a few more seconds watching, then promptly became a witness to her dog moving so much that he fell off the couch. He landed on the floor with all of the grace of a holiday ham. It was true that the bigger they were, the harder they fell. 

Viscount Theodore of Dearden was suddenly awake. With his eyes open, the dog looked around in shock, seemingly sensing that something strange had just happened.

“Take a tumble there, Viscount?” asked Mia, amused.

Teddy shook his head like a torpedo, his ears flapping as he did so, then began wandering the loft, as per usual. 

As Mia hopped up to the gymnastics rings again, Bart continued his task of setting up the computer, which still boiled down to organizing the mess of cables underneath the desk. 

Eventually, Bart finally retrieved the other end of the HDMI cable and plugged it into her PC. After booting up the ‘Big Black Box’ — as Mia liked to call it — the Speedster felt something nudging his leg. 

After shuffling his upper half out from under the desk, Bart sat up to see Viscount Theodore of Dearden sniffing his ankle. 

With a soft smile, Bart reached over to pet the pittie on the head. “Hi, Puppy.” 

As Mia finished her final set of weighted muscle ups, Bart sat down in her swivel chair and scooted over to her desk. Sure enough, all three of her monitors lit up, as well as the RGB lights and the liquid cooling unit of the PC. 

With her workout finished, Mia let go of the rings and dropped barefoot to the floor. She undid the straps of her weighted vest and let it drop down, then walked over to her desk in the corner of the living room.

“How’s it looking?” she asked, pulling up a chair to sit next to him. 

“Everything seems to be in order,” Bart noted, leaning back to let Mia type in her password. He then proceeded to chuckle upon seeing Mia’s wallpaper, which was fittingly a high resolution photograph of Viscount Theodore making the doofiest expression known to dog-kind. 

“Nice set up you got here,” he remarked with a grin. 

“Yeah, found these in a thrift store for a friggin’ steal,” Mia explained, gesturing to the multiple monitors on her desk. She then began rummaging around her space until she found a small thumb drive. After plugging it into her PC, she opened the file explorer, which then showed her an abundance of folders all sorted by dates and times. 

Upon seeing the near endless amount of data, Bart blinked. He hadn’t expected such a tiny drive to carry that much information. 

“So… what do you need all this for?” he asked with a nervous voice. 

“I’ve been tailing this trafficking operation for months,” Mia explained as she went through the various files. 

Upon opening one of the folders, Bart was quick to learn that each and every one of them contained various text logs organized in chronological order. Each message had been sent with an off-the-radar mobile app, one that required more than ‘Incognito Mode’ to get access to.

Such an app was often used by wealthy folks trying to remain untraceable in their dastardly deeds, as each message was quickly erased after being read. But unbeknownst to the users of the app, a plucky blonde in Seattle had just the right connections to ‘unerase’ certain things. 

Bart whistled and ran his hand through his hair. “Damn, that’s some dark web shit right there.” He leaned in to get a better look at the screen. “What are they trafficking? Drugs? Weapons? Uh… worse?” 

“Weapons,” Mia answered. She began organizing the files by each week they were sent. “Just a bunch of dudes trying to get some AK-47s onto US soil. I got a hunch they’re not planning to take ‘em to the local shooting range.”

Bart hummed as Mia kept up her role as an amateur sleuth. 

As always, his mind began wandering and eyes began looking around. He spent a few seconds looking at everything surrounding her monitors — from the top-notch speakers to the framed photograph of Mia and her brothers, from the half-empty bottle of ibuprofen to the newspaper clipping commemorating the time Speedy saved a beloved Seattle dispensary. 

Next to the keyboard was a carton of coconut water, several plastic broadheads, a folding knife, and a phone with a cracked screen. 

The sight of the damaged tech was enough to make Bart’s heart skip a beat. 

“Oh, lord in heaven! Your poor screen!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest for dramatic effect. 

“It’s not mine,” Mia assured, keeping her eyes on her monitors. “I stole it off one of the goons and they were dumb enough to not disable it remotely.” She grabbed the busted phone and turned it on, proving to the speedster that it did in fact work despite the multiple cracks.

“I get every text they do,” she explained. “Helps make this investigation faster.” 

With a smile, Bart tapped his finger against his temple. “Ahhh, galaxy brain.”

The sound of Mia typing and Viscount Theodore licking his crotch filled the space of the loft. Once again, Bart’s eyes wandered, at first focusing on the calloused hands of his teammate, then noticing the scar tissue on her skin. Suddenly worried, he glanced up to notice the various discolored blemishes all over Mia’s arms, then came to the realization that these were just the ones he could see. 

Bart couldn’t remember Mia having this many scars. He wondered if she had accumulated them during her time in the Emerald City, after she had made the announcement that she wanted to have a heroic career of her own. 

After giving it a moment’s thought, Bart then came to the realization that Mia had only been operating in Seattle for six months.

Mia’s eyes glanced over and caught Bart staring, prompting the speedster to look away and act like there wasn’t an endless amount of concerns rushing through his head.

“You should come by Titans Tower more often,” the speedster said, for once navigating a conversation with tact. “We could really use you down there.” 

Mia leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “I dunno, I think Tim’s all the detective you’ll ever need.” 

“Well, Tim’s either busy as shit in Gotham or about to collapse from sleep deprivation, so we could always use another sleuth,” Bart explained in a tone that sounded more joking than serious. “Plus, we like having you around.” 

Mia said nothing as the words settled into her. Had Bart’s attention not been caught by another thing in Mia’s loft, he would have witnessed the look of nervous confusion that came upon her face. 

Across the room was a table holding various items, things that ranged from spare bow strings, more plastic broadheads, and random PC parts. What had caught Bart’s attention was the gray analogue synthesizer, a metallic contraption reminiscent of the 80s complete with knobs, an attached vocoder, and three octaves worth of piano keys. 

“Whoa! You got a Microkorg?” Bart exclaimed as he zipped over to the table. He turned on the instrument and immediately began pressing the keys. “Sweet! I play drums, we should start a synth-pop duo!” 

Suddenly a lot less uneasy, Mia stood up from her chair. “It’s just a hobby,” she explained, making her way over. “I bought this on Craigslist, thought it’d be fun.”

With Mia at the helm, she turned one of the instrument’s knobs and began pressing on the keys. A dreamy, chime-like timbre began playing from the device. She pressed the middle C note, then the 4th and the 5th, then a minor chord and a major. 

As the archer played a few more notes and adjusted the synthesizer’s knobs, the sound of falling rain outside mixed with the glassy, ambient tones of the instrument. At one point, Bart even leaned over and began pressing on the higher keys. Mia let him, watching as he took to keyboard playing like a duck to water. 

“What are you doing tonight?” asked Mia as she played around with the synthesizer’s pitch wheel. 

“Not much,” Bart answered like it was nothing. He continued playing with the instrument as if it were the easiest thing in the world, even managing to figure out the built-in arpeggiator. Perhaps this synth-pop duo idea of his wasn’t that farfetched. 

“I mean, there’s this big party going on at my college, but some of the frat dudes are like… very weird,” he started, shrugging once more. “Like, one of them called me a beta and I don’t think that had anything to do with the frat. Another called me a soy boy and like… I prefer cow milk, y’know? So… no, I’m not doing anything.”

Mia blinked, then slowly took in the fact that she was never going to get those few seconds back. 

Soon, Bart stopped tapping on the synth and looked to his friend. “Why do you ask?”

“Well… I was thinking that I worked up quite the appetite and would like to grab some dinner…” Mia stated, trailing off with a mild nervousness to her voice. “...and I was also wondering if you’d like to join me.”

Bart let out a chuckle, then gave her a pleased, boyish smile. “Hey, I’m always down for food.”

For a moment Mia appeared relieved, then managed to return his smile. “Sweet, lemme just grab my coat.” 

Mia turned and took a single step, then immediately stumbled. She was quick to catch herself, planting her hand on the nearby table to keep herself on her feet. Bart looked on, confused, and wondered if perhaps Mia’s leg day was a bit too demanding. 

With an awkward chuckle, Mia turned to look at Bart with a sheepish look on her face. 

“Uh… can I tell you something else?” 

Bart nodded. “Of course.”

“I took an edible two hours ago and I think it’s finally kicking in.” 

[corner-stories]

aftermath

Mia Dearden. Roy Harper. Lian Harper.

Injuries. Storms. Dogs.

3196 words.

(ao3.)

Teddy the jet black pitbull mix was one of the luckier dogs in Seattle. He had many things in his life to cherish; such as a warm bed, a rubber ball, two raw meals a day, and a devoted human who loved him enough to take him home from the shelter.

Teddy knew a few things about his Human — he knew that her name was Mia, he knew that she was fond of these other humans named Roy and Connor, and he knew that she had some rather peculiar hobbies. 

When Mia was not cuddling with him, she would often play a strange game with a bunch of sticks. She would take a skinny stick and a longer curved stick, then use the curved stick to launch the skinny stick across the room and into a target. Then she would do it again and again until her little holder of skinny sticks was empty. When all was said and done, she would pull her skinny sticks out of the target and do it all over again. 

What confused Teddy the most was that he was not supposed to retrieve the skinny sticks. His Human often tied him to something and made sure he was behind her whenever she began stick-launching. But whenever his Human threw sticks with her arms in the parks of the city, she would expect him to fetch them for her. Teddy found this all rather perplexing. 

The strange habits of Teddy’s Human did not end there. Only one night out of the week would she spend it in their loft with him. The two would eat dinner on the couch and watch the moving-picture box until they both fell asleep. Teddy loved these nights the most.

But every other night, Teddy’s Human would leave him alone. She would put on a peculiar uniform and a strange bag to carry all her skinny sticks, then grab the curved launching-stick as well as a mask and a hood. She would pet him on the head and promise to be back soon, then leave out the window of their home. 

A long time would pass, then his Human would return before the light of day. Teddy’s Beloved Human would be soaked in water, then when she removed her mask and suit he would see strange dark marks adorning her pale skin. She would always give him a hug and kiss before heading to the toilet room, where she would use items from a kit to get rid of or cover-up the marks on her body.

Teddy didn’t know where the marks came from. All he knew was that his Human would be in pain every time she came back. That made him scared for a reason he didn’t know. 

At least then the two would fall asleep on her bed, then hours later Teddy would lick her awake. She would always smile when he did so and then take him down to the kitchen for a much-deserved meal.

But tonight was different.

The world outside their home rattled and shook with a storm. Drops of water hit the windows louder than ever. Every once in a while the sky would light up like it was day, then after a few seconds the loudest, most deafening crash would follow. As per usual, Teddy’s Human was gone for the night, but every time he heard the crash he would hide under a table and wish that she would come back. 

Like always, Teddy’s Human returned through the window. There was something strange in the way she moved — her limbs were slower, her grip around her curved stick was weaker, and her footfalls were heavier. When she closed the window, Teddy happily walked up to her with his tail wagging so hard his rear end was shaking. 

His Human’s legs were trembling as she dropped her curved stick. When she pulled off her mask and hood her face had more of the strange dark marks, her lip was slightly misshapen in the corner and there was something strange dribbling out of her mouth. She was breathing slowly as she removed her stick bag, then in moments she collapsed.

Teddy watched his Beloved Human fall to the ground, her breathing growing more and more labored. Curiously, he walked up to her face and licked it, a gesture that always brought her back to life. In the darkness of their home, he could see his Human opening her eyes. Her smile was faint as she said — 

“Hey there, Handsome.” 

Teddy expected his Human to finally stand up and play with him again, maybe leave to fix her strange markings on her face. But instead his Human remained still. Her eyes began to slowly close. It was as if she was trying to imitate him by falling asleep on the floor. 

After licking her face a few more times Teddy decided to stay by his Human’s side. He laid next to her, cuddling up against her side as the storm outside raged on and on. 

…

…

…

With one hand in Lian’s, Roy knocked on Mia’s door three times, all to no response. Not even her dog made a sound. It was oddly peculiar since most dogs weren’t known for remaining silent upon hearing a guest arrive. 

After giving it a moment’s thought, Roy reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys; Mia had given him a spare a long time ago, but rarely did ever get the chance to use it. 

Roy opened the door to a quiet place and called out — 

“Mia?”

The space was a decently-sized loft in the midst of Seattle. It was just enough room for the Emerald City’s resident archer to use as home base. As to be expected, random arrows, fletchings, and bow strings were scattered about, as well as other crime-fighting gear like masks and pocket knives. 

The only thing missing was the crime-fighter themselves. 

Holding onto Lian’s hand, Roy scanned the area. When his eyes came upon the window he immediately saw something that caused his stomach to knot in panic. 

On the ground was Mia; still clad in her uniform, resting on her stomach, unmoving and still. The muddy blood specks on the floor and the empty quiver told him more than he needed to know. 

Mia’s loyal canine was by her side, having laid by her and spent the night underneath her arm. When Teddy looked up and met Roy’s eyes, his tail began to wag. 

“MIA!!!”

Roy felt an anxious numbness in his chest as he ran up to his sister. Kneeling down, he took her wrist and was relieved to feel a pulse. Gently, he turned her over and placed a hand on her cheek. Her right eye was bruised and her lip was split, there was a dark bluish mark on her forehead and a gash just below her hairline. 

Teddy had gotten up from the floor and immediately walked over to Lian, who fortunately had her attention diverted from the scene in the presence of the dog. The seven-year-old smiled and pet his forehead, something that distracted them both from the reality of the situation. 

Roy practically cradled his sister in his arms. 

“Mia?!?! Mia, hey!” 

He spoke in an urgent voice, patting her cheek in an attempt to wake her. 

His heart began to race as a million possibilities ran through his head. The dread-filled knot in his stomach and chest tightened, a feeling that made his fingers tremble. For a second he began to fear, and for a few more he began to pray. 

Then after a moment, Mia opened her eyes. 

For a beat she could only give him a blank, vacant stare.

“... what are you doing, Roy?” 

She seemed irked as she glared up at her brother, something so unexpected that Roy’s first reaction was to let out a laugh. Relief filled his system as the air left his lungs.

“Jesus, Mia, you gave me a goddamn heart attack.” 

The blonde blinked, clearly more confused than concerned. “Did I?” 

Behind the two, Lian was still petting Teddy. When she heard the sound of her aunt’s voice, she perked up and glanced towards the pair of archers. 

“Daddy?” asked the little one. “Is Mia going to be okay?” 

Roy smiled as he helped his sister up, letting her lean on his shoulder. “She’s gonna be fine, Lian,” he answered. “She’s gonna be just fine.” 

…

…

…

Seattle’s resident archer had rebuffed his offers to help patch her up, leaving Roy and Lian to make themselves at home in the ‘arrowloft.’ 

While Mia made use of the military-grade first aid kit in the bathroom, Roy decided to raid the fridge. The place was surprisingly well-stocked for the home of the only hero keeping a major American city together. 

Roy started with a big pot of coffee and some thickly sliced toast, then went on to fry up some eggs, bacon, and mushrooms. Lian sat at the island in the midst of the kitchen, munching on some blackberries as her father cooked. When he wasn’t looking she would sneak some down to Teddy, who happily ate them without complaint.

Sometimes Roy wondered if Lian begged to go to Seattle to visit her beloved Aunt Mia or her beloved Aunt Mia’s dog. 

Speaking of which, Viscount Theodore of Dearden (his legal name, apparently) was at peace at last. He went between accepting berries from Lian’s hand, trying to sniff the delicious smells from Roy’s pan, and drinking from his water bowl. After spending the night on the floor with his master, some levity in the morning was a much-needed change. 

Soon enough, the owner of the ‘arrowloft’ came into the kitchen. Instead of her usual Speedy suit, she sported some old pair of shorts and a Mariners sweater that was two sizes too big. Even if she was hiding the majority of her wounds, the stitches on her forehead and the gauze taped to her cheek were hiding in plain sight.

The first thing she did upon entering the kitchen was ruffle Lian’s hair and press a kiss to her forehead, a gesture that never ceased to bring the both of them joy. 

When Roy looked at his sister, he nodded over to the french press in the corner. 

“Just brewed a fresh pot,” he said like nothing was wrong. “It’s that fancy Sumatran blend you like.” 

Mia snagged a single blackberry from Lian’s bowl and walked to the pot. “Cool, thanks.” 

As she poured herself a mug, Roy slid some bacon and mushrooms onto a plate. 

“One egg or two?” 

“I’m not hungry,” Mia claimed, blowing steam off her coffee. 

Roy raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” 

Mia nodded, yet Roy was still unconvinced. He ended up placing exactly one egg, one strip of bacon, and one mushroom onto a plate and slid it in front of his sister. 

Such a gesture garnered caused Mia to glare at him with a look that just screamed the phrase — are you fucking kidding me?

Roy was smug as he went back to the stove. “And if you don’t want it, maybe Teddy’s hungry.” 

Mia refused to humor him and stole another blackberry from Lian. As she took another sip of her coffee, her loyal canine walked up to her feet. As per usual, he placed his chin on her thigh and looked up at her with the beadiest pair of eyes in the world. The gesture was his way of begging for head-pats, food, or both. Usually both. 

With a grin, Mia stroked her best friend on the forehead.

“Hey, Handsome. Uncle Roy giving you a hard time?” 

Lian poked her on the shoulder. “Mia, can Teddy eat blackberries?” 

“He can, it doesn’t mean he should,” the blonde answered honestly. “I try not to feed him anything from the table, it spoils his dinner.” She gave the pittie mix an extra scratch on the head. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

Lian’s face fell as if her entire reality had just been shattered in front of her. “Awww….” 

Roy placed a plate of eggs in front of Lian. “Dig in, Sweetie.” 

With glee, Lian grabbed a fork and tucked into her meal. As she ate, Roy eyed Mia again and noted that she had yet to touch her food. Instead, she either sipped her coffee or stole more berries from Lian’s (now abandoned) bowl. 

Roy liked to think that he was good at reading people — the years he spent playing hero and spy could do that to a person. As Mia sat in front of him he just knew that there was something on her mind that she just couldn’t say. Whether it was because innocent ears were present was up for debate. 

After Roy poured himself a healthy mug of steaming brew, he tapped his sister on the shoulder. 

“Can we talk, Kid?” 

…

…

…

As Lian and Teddy watched cartoons on the living room couch, the two archers headed outside. 

The balcony of the loft was small, but it bestowed a lovely city view to those who stood upon it. At the moment the weather was gentler.. On days or nights like this, Mia would often enjoy a cup of tea or coffee while standing out in the open air. 

Teddy would usually opt for hiding inside underneath a warm, dry blanket, as he didn’t like rain or cold. Apparently, it had yet to occur to him that he lived in the Pacific Northwest.

There was enough room for two adirondack chairs, a perfect pair of seats for the pair of archers to sit on. Mia had wrapped herself in a blanket and held onto her coffee like it was her life force. Roy hadn’t done the same, as in the moment it wasn’t his well being that he was concerned for. 

“The Maestri family runs a trafficking ring around these parts,” Mia started off. 

Roy nodded, listening to her every word. “I didn’t think the Italian mobster types would frequent the west coast.” 

“Neither did I,” Mia claimed. “I’d been tracking them for weeks — copied the phone of one of their thugs, listened in for anything interesting. A while ago, I heard something about a big shipment coming in at midnight.” 

She paused and took a sip of her coffee, her hands holding tightly onto the mug. 

“So I went to the docks to stop ‘em. It was just some stash of coke… y’know, average mob boss shit. I stopped the shipment by sabotaging a crane, which dropped the whole container into the bay and, well… it’s hard to do that without a bunch of people getting mad.”

“So who did this to you?” Roy said, clearly referring to every bruise on her face.

Mia went still for a second, then said — “Martino Maestri is a dumbass, but even I’ll admit he hires good guards, arms them with good guns, makes sure that everyone’s a trigger happy moron.” 

She looked down at the bandages covering her bleeding knuckles — somehow she couldn’t remember her hands being in pain. 

When Mia closed her eyes she could remember even the smallest details of the scuffle — the raindrops pattering on the concrete, her trick arrows shooting the firearms out of every goon’s hand, the panic when she realized that she had exhausted her entire quiver of arrows, the adrenaline in her system going into overdrive as she raised her fists to a five-against-one fight. 

As good of a brawler as she was, even Mia couldn’t dodge every blow thrown at her. The hired goons enjoyed giving Speedy hell, as all of them seemed to get some kind of cathartic kick out of hitting Seattle’s hero. For every one she took down, there was another behind her ready to administer a left hook to the gut. 

And although the Speedy suit was modified to resist gunfire, the goons were unfortunately competent shots — each bullet that managed to land felt like a goddamn punch. At least Maestri was short-sighted enough to not arm his men with armor-piercing rounds. 

The heavy rain and ungodly winds blowing around the area didn’t help either. Sometimes Mia wondered if the Pacific Northwest weather enjoyed hunting people for sport. 

The fact that Speedy had managed to walk away from the fight at all was nothing short of a miracle. She could remember trudging home against the force of a gale, the spiky raindrops hitting her from every direction, her head spinning after too many blows, and her limbs aching from exhaustion.

When Mia looked back at her brother, she could see the fear in Roy’s eyes — every word she said painted a more terrifying picture in his head. Back when she was patching herself up, she imagined what he must have felt when he found her on the floor — the sinking in his gut as he scooped her into his arms, the anger and sadness and despair when the possibility that she could be dead flowed through his head. 

Nervously, Mia asked, “So… you mad?”

Roy didn’t hesitate to shake his head. “No, I’m just concerned.” 

“Oh, good,” she sighed, relieved. “Here I thought stumbling into the loft looking like a fuck-up would earn me a stern lecture about, like… safety and shit.” She let out a grumble as she swirled her coffee in her mug. “As if I don’t already know.” 

Roy seemed perplexed at the notion. “Who do you take me for? Ollie? Dinah?” 

He reached over and patted her shoulder. “No one wants to see you hurt, Kid,” he explained. “I get wanting to go solo and stuff, but you’re allowed to ask for help. You got friends, don’t you?” 

Mia seemed offended at the implications that she didn’t. “I have some,” she insisted in a mildly defensive tone. 

“Teddy doesn’t count.”

There was a beat, then Mia avoided his gaze. 

Letting out a hearty chuckle, Roy gave her shoulder another pat.

“Talk to the Titans more, Kid, it’ll do you a world of good,” he suggested warmly. 

Mildly amused, Mia tapped Roy’s hand with her own. “Thanks, Dad,” she said jokingly.

In silence, the pair of archers took a few more sips of coffee as they took in the view. The loft — situated around SoDo — was fortunate enough to bestow a soothing view of Elliott Bay to those who lived in it. Despite the terrors of last night’s storm, there was something hauntingly alluring about the calm in the aftermath. 

“So… what does Lian wanna do today?” Mia said idly. 

Roy pointed to the horizon, specifically towards the Great Wheel by the water. “She was hoping to check that out. If you’ll accompany her, that is.” 

Without question, Mia nodded her head. “It would be an honor,” she promised with pride. “You gotta watch Teddy though, I don’t think they let dogs on.”

Roy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“It’s gonna be strange riding that Wheel without a bunch of goons shooting at me from a helicopter,” Mia said without thinking. 

Roy eyed her suspiciously, something that she ignored in favor of taking another sip of her precious coffee. 

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.”

[corner-stories]

mia + whoever for 29

Casual Affections

29. nudging them to show they are right beside them

Tim Drake entered the monitor room to find one blonde archer (not the green one) and one dog (not the kryptonian one), both of whom were currently asleep.

Mia Dearden was snoozing on one of the computer chairs — she was wrapped in a fleece blanket with the whole structure reclined back, a suitable sleeping set-up for an overworked superheroine. On her lap was her faithful canine companion — Teddy the pitbull-lab mix (or Viscount Theodore of Dearden, as she liked to call him).

Tim wouldn't normally welcome random dogs into Titans Compound, but since Teddy was a rather mild-mannered and gentle, an exception could be made. He didn't see the harm in Mia bringing him over whenever she had monitor duty.

Teddy napped on his master's lap, seemingly unaware that he was roughly sixty pounds and therefore barely fit in the limited space. The fact that the chair had yet to topple over was some kind of miracle.

With a steaming mug of robust black tea, Tim sat in one of the unoccupied chairs and gently nudged his teammate.

"Mia?"

The blonde archer opened her eyes slowly and warily. She stared at him for five straight seconds before asking —

"... are we under attack?"

Tim shook his head and put his mug on a nearby table. "No, thank god," he assured. "I'm here to relieve you."

Mia blinked, her fingers gently grazing her dog's head. "Wow, that's so great," she murmured. After letting out a yawn, she closed her eyes again and leaned back in the chair. "Okay, have fun."

Tim stared at her quizzical — it was his job in the team to doze off in strange places, not hers.

He nudged her again. "Uh... don't you wanna go to bed?"

The rooms in Titans Compound weren't perfect, but they were certainly more comfortable than the computer chairs.

When Mia opened her eyes, she paused and gave the notion a few moments of thought. It seemed that even a mind as sharp as hers couldn't process information while lacking sleep.

"Right... right..." Mia mumbled, attempting to sit up straight. "I should do that."

She looked down to her napping sixty-pound baby and gently nudged him.

"Come on, get up..." she said. With a few more taps, it became clear that Viscount Theodore of Dearden was happy where he was and in no mood to move.

Mia frowned and nudged him one more time. "Yo, move your ass."

Teddy opened his eyes and looked at his master like an innocent little pup. After yawning, he hopped off Mia's lap and onto the floor with all the grace of a sixty pound infant. As the archer stood up and stretched, the pittie mix picked up his emotional support rubber ball from the corner of the room.

Tim watched as Mia grabbed her blanket and slowly walked out of the monitor like a drunk, woozy toddler, her loyal doggo following in her footsteps.

"Alright, g'night, Bird-Boy," she said, yawning. "Take it easy, 'kay?"

[corner-stories]

arrowfam for 17

Casual Affection PromptsCasual Affection Prompts

17. Washing The Other's Hair

The Star City brownstone was occupied by a screaming bird, a plucky archer, and a dog.

Viscount Theodore of Dearden, Mia's loyal canine companion, poked his nose in every corner of the hall. He soon found the bathroom door ajar and peeped inside. The jet black pitbull mix was greeted with the sight of Black Canary leaning over the sink and Speedy rinsing the foamy lather off with the stream of water from the tap.

Had Dinah's left arm not been in a cast, then she and Mia would have been spending a night on the town. But instead, she was here getting her hair washed in preparation for Mia to touch up her roots, anything to get her to actually stay inside and give her bones time to heal.

The duo didn't notice Teddy slipping in. Once Mia finished rinsing Dinah's hair, she wrapped the bird's head with a towel and rubbed it thoroughly.

Dinah let out a slight groan as she straightened her back, something she often did whenever her joints decided to ache (which was always.)

"Your back still killin' you, Grandma?" asked the archer, amused.

Dinah refused to humor that question and simply attempted to awkwardly dry her hair with her good hand.

Mia's mocking tone soon faded away. "Here, lemme get the dryer," she offered, rummaging around the bathroom for the necessary equipment.

As Mia grabbed the blow dryer, Dinah glanced to the corner of the counter and immediately noticed that something they had placed there was now gone, something that was rather essential for the task of touching up one's roots.

"Hey, where's the peroxide?"

Mia and Dinah didn't search for long, as a look towards the doorway gave them their answer.

Teddy happily stood on the tiled floor, his tail wagging so hard that his behind was shaking and the missing bottle of peroxide in his jaws. Fortunately, he hadn't bit down hard enough to break the plastic, but unfortunately he was looking at Mia in a way that screamed both "Mom! Look what I found!" and "I'm gonna run around the entire house and you can't stop me!"

Mia waved an angry finger at her sixty-pound baby. "Viscount Theodore of Dearden, you put that down now!!!"

As to be expected for a dog who never wasted an opportunity to play, the canine viscount took off. Clearly, his new goal of the night was to make zoomies in every corner of the brownstone.

Mia dashed after him. While it wasn't the worst thing the pittie mix had grabbed thinking it was a toy (he was fond of snagging putty arrows when his owner wasn't looking), Mia knew it was best to tamp down on his habit at every moment possible.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE!" she screamed as the first leg of their goose chase began.

Now alone in the bathroom, Dinah simply grabbed the hair dryer in her good hand and turned it on.

"I love it when we do things together as a family."

[corner-stories]

playing nurse

Rose Wilson. Mia Dearden.

Post-Patrol. Muffins. Dogs. First Aid Kits.

1238

(ao3.)

Rose Wilson entered the ‘Arrowloft’ with a leash on one hand and a paper bag in the other. The unit belonged to Seattle’s resident vigilante, who the citizens dubbed ‘Archer Girl’ despite her correcting them nearly every time. Apparently it didn’t make sense that a bow-wielding hero would go by ‘Speedy.’

Situated south of Downtown, the loft was modestly sized and included a pleasant view of the Space Needle. Scattered around the kitchen and living area were tokens of Mia Dearden’s nightly adventures — arrows, spare bowstrings, even her domino mask. There were also various chew toys, several canine-sized sweaters, and random unused plastic bags scattered about, a true marking of a dog owner.

Speaking of which — Viscount Theodore of Dearden (also known as Teddy) was shaking his backside in glee as Rose led him through the loft. He was a handsome mutt with short dark fur and a pair of beady brown eyes. Mia wasn’t sure of his exact breed, but he seemed to be half-pitbull and half ‘god knows what.’

Rose took off the canine’s leash and harness, then slowly pulled off his overpriced sweater. Once free, Teddy happily zipped around the space like a speedster. Rose took off her rain-soaked jacket as Teddy dashed to the couch and hopped on.

As she was still recovering from last night’s patrol, Mia did not take well to being pounced on by a sixty-pound baby.

“OOOMPH!”

Somehow, she still wasn’t used to her dog using her stomach as a landing pad.

With a smirk, Rose took her sweet time sauntering over with the paper bag. She came just in time to see Seattle’s battered protector getting licked by a very adorable pitbull.

“Hope you slept well, Speedy,” said Rose, taking a seat at a nearby armchair. “He didn’t.”

Once the dog settled down on her lap, Mia gently pet him between his ears. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you — Teddy really likes to sleep in my bed.”

“Yeah, he also moves a lot,” Rose grumbled, tossing the paper bag from her hand to the coffee table. “And I thought I was a restless sleeper.”

Last night, Mia had offered Rose her bed while she slept on the couch. Apparently, it was something she insisted on to every guest. Rose had agreed just to be nice, but had she known that the world’s most fidgety pitbull would be joining her, then she would have slept on the floor.

“I took him out,” Rose said, motioning over to the canine. “He looked like he needed it.”

Mia nodded as Teddy began licking her fingers. “Thanks. What’s in the bag?”

“Everything from the day-old basket from that bakery down the street,” Rose answered, leaning back in the chair and propping her feet onto the table.

With her interest piqued, Mia reached over and procured a single cornbread muffin paper bag.

“Hello, carbs,” she mumbled after the first bite. She tried to ignore the sight of Rose rolling her eye.

Last night was not kind to Speedy. Even with Ravager by her side, she was not able to dodge every punch or blow or kick. A mugger in the University District had nicked her forearm with a switchblade, a bodega robber managed to blacken her right eye, and a squad of thieves in a getaway van didn’t let ‘Archer Girl’ and ‘Sword Chick’ have it easy.

Needless to say, Rose learned the hard way that thwarting an armed robbery was one thing, but thwarting an armed robbery in the pouring rain at 4AM was a whole other.

“How do you feel?” asked Rose, concerned.

Mia grumbled as she finished off her muffin. “Better.”

Rose leaned forward to get a better look at the archer’s bandages. Having been sleep-deprived when she played the role of nurse, her first-aid skills were not at their best. At the moment everything seemed to be healing fine, but some of Mia’s gauze was in dire need of replacing.

“Gotta change your dressings,” Rose decided then and there. She stood up and made her way to the bathroom. “Be right back.”

Mia made no protest and grabbed another baked good. She munched on a day-old cookie as her friend returned with the kit.

Rose knelt next to the couch and placed the plastic case on the table. After rummaging inside for fresh wrappings, she made quick work of the dressings on Mia’s arm and cheek. Fortunately, the steri-strips near her elbow had held up, but Rose replaced the gauze just to be safe. She did the same thing for the scrape on Mia’s cheek.

Lastly, Rose made sure to check out the cut on Mia’s head. Neither of them could remember exactly how she got it, just that some time after tying the car thieves to a lamp post, Ravager pointed to a line of blood on Speedy’s forehead and the archer reacted with surprising indifference. Apparently she was used to this and simply slapped a band-aid on it until she got home.

Learning towards her teammate, Rose put a hand on Mia’s chin and gently pushed her bangs out of the way. The cut was just underneath her hairline and was held together with a few more steri-strips. Mia’s eyes went wide and her body went still, yet Rose only focused on getting a look at the wound. They were mere inches apart.

Mia let out an awkward chuckle. “Do you always play nurse for people?”

Rose smirked, her thumb gently grazing Mia’s forehead. “Not really, but you’re special.”

Mia scoffed. “Wow, lucky me.”

Rose kept her eye on the wound for a few moments more, then backed away once she deemed it in no need of extra care.

“You’ll live another day, Speedy,” Rose said as she sat back in the armchair.

Mia seemed assured as she leaned back on the couch. “Well, you know us Arrows — we bend bu-”

“But you don’t break,” Rose finished off. “You’ve said that before.”

Mia seemed embarrassed for a single moment, then looked down to her dog. Little Teddy was now asleep on her lap, happily snoring as her hand moved against his fur. When she looked up Rose had taken another muffin from the bag.

Sometimes she wondered why Rose visited her in the Emerald City. Perhaps things in San Francisco were so boring that Ravager had to go north to find crime fighting work. Or maybe she just needed a break from Titans Tower, as hanging around a bunch of maladjusted young adults with superpowers could be vexing for the psyche. Mia liked to think that non-powered heroes like her kept the team modest.

Whatever the reason may be, Ravager and Speedy seemed to go well together — aside from the stupendous combination of a ranged fighter with a melee one, it was always nice to have an extra hand to help protect the place. The Emerald City could get used to having Ravager around.

With that in mind, Mia looked to Rose and spoke carefully.

“So… you headin’ home soon or what?” Her voice sounded somewhat hopeful as she spoke, as if her words were some kind of invitation or implication.

For a moment Rose seemed to think, then gave a shrug. “Eh… I think I’ll stick around for a bit,” she answered casually. She then smirked, looking at the blonde playfully. “Besides, someone’s gotta keep an eye on ol’ Archer Girl over here.”

Mia’s ears went pink.

[corner-stories]

5 and 13

Writer Ask Game

5. What is your favourite trope to write for?

For some reason I just wanna give characters pets now.

Anyone keeping up with my Mia Dearden fics knows of Teddy the sixty-pound pitbull (aka Viscount Theodore of Dearden), and I got a fic where Rose adopts a pomeranian in the works.

also I'm considering writing Bart alongside a dog bc he had one in his Impulse solo but it randomly disappeared when his series ended. I envision Bart adopting another doggo after Dox, specifically a tiny terrier mix he affectionately calls Moira.

And no worries, I haven't forgot about cats. I also got a fic where Connor adopts a cat in the works, also maybe Courtney decides to take in a lil' kitty when she's not running around with her staff.

13. What feedback did you receive for your writing that stuck with you?

One time someone left a comment on a Pokemon fic of mine that said:

"Kudos you monster."

I guess I've always had a knack for writing heartbreaking angst, huh?

[corner-stories]

a tale of two speedies

Mia Dearden. Roy Harper.

Mountain Training. Doggos. Bear Spray.

936 words.

(ao3.)

As comfortable as the backseat was, Roy couldn’t help but feel a sense of displeasure as the car drove through the mountain range. It was in his best interest to not complain though, mainly because Mia was both volunteering to drive and covering the gas costs. So instead he sucked in a sigh and tried to talk about anything but the seating situation.

“So… see the new episode of Lakedale last night?”

Mia kept her eyes on the road as she nodded. “Oh, yeah. But that entire show’s been off the rails since like… episode one. Isn’t that right, Teddy Boy?”

To that she reached over to the passenger’s seat, in which sat a rather comfy and rather adorable canine. When Mia scratched the doggo between the ears, the furry four-legged creature happily smiled and began wagging its tail.

Teddy — or as Mia called him, Viscount Theodore Dearden of the Pacific Northwest — was a good-looking dog with short black fur covering him from head to paw. According to his master he was half pitbull and half ‘god knows what,’ a combination of such that made for an exceedingly cuddly companion. His likes included hugs, kisses, his emotional support rubber ball, and sitting in the front seat whenever Mia drove — apparently he got car sick sitting anywhere else.

Unfortunately, it meant that Roy lost shotgun to a dog, of all things.

At least the view was nice. Whenever Roy looked to the window he was greeted by the greens and grays of the mountain range. Even on an overcast day the Pacific Northwest was as picturesque as ever, even when the sky was completely covered in clouds.

Soon enough the yellow subaru arrived at a parking lot conveniently placed at the bottom of the mountain. It was frequented by families for scenic day hikes or photographers for grueling photo treks, a place never was never too full but never empty as well.

Roy speedily stepped out once the car was parked. He stretched his legs as Mia went to tend to her dog. She leashed Teddy and led him out of the car, scratching behind his ears once he was on the pavement.

As Mia dealt with the doggo, Roy went to the trunk of the car. Inside was a medley of gear; i.e rucksacks, various foods to last them the weekend, two tarps and two hammocks, a first aid kit, and most importantly — weapons.

Since Mia wanted to focus on melee combat for the weekend, the two would be forgoing bows and arrows and other ranged weapons. In lieu of their usual bread and butter, Roy loaded a few training weapons into his knapsack — rubber knives, foam-tipped batons, even plastic tomahawks.

And of course, he had a few actual weapons on hand for safety. He himself had an excessively large bowie knife strapped to his leg for survival purposes, as well as a few other things up his sleeve.

Meanwhile, Mia secured a little doggy-sized backpack to her canine companion. “So… who’d you leave Lian with for the weekend?” she asked as she adjusted the straps.

“She’s with Wally and Linda,” Roy answered, zipping up his pack. “She wanted to hangout with Irey and Jai more, so it all worked out.” Standing up, he pulled his bag onto his back and snapped the buckles shut. “And thanks for lending her your Sailor Moon DVDs, she’s really happy with ‘em.”

Mia flashed him a grin as she pulled on her own pack. “No prob.”

After the two Speedies got all they needed from the car, Mia locked the vehicle and two made their way to the edge of the parking lot. Teddy the doggo followed with a gleam in his eyes as he squeezed his rubber ball between his mighty jaws.

Even if the clouds would never leave the sky, the weekend would be rainless and dry, a rarity in this part of the world. Roy’s plan was to hike to the top of the mountain, where they would be granted a rather pretty view of the forest and the privacy to train as they pleased. Even though Mia was confident of her ability to trek the rocky terrain, she wondered if Roy’s weapons-training routine was enhanced by the higher altitude.

Before the two quippy archers could take their first step on the trek, Roy stopped in his stride and turned to Mia.

“Okay, so before we go in there I gotta give you something.”

Mia raised an eyebrow, confused. “Uh, I already said I don’t wanna use a gun.”

“I know, and I 100% respect that,” Roy replied. “But we are in bear country and I just want you to be safe.”

For a few moments he rummaged around in the pockets of his cargo pants, then pulled out an aerosol can with the image of a cartoon bear on the label. When he handed it over, Mia was immediately amused by the blurbs and blocky font.

“Billy Buster’s Bear-Banner?” She gave Roy a smirk. “You sure this is gonna work?”

“According to the twenty-five positive reviews online, it should,” Roy declared proudly. “By the way, remember to wash your hands after you’ve been spraying that a lot. Especially before you go to the bathroom.” The way he sheepishly looked down at his boots said it all. “It, uh… it’ll burn.”

With that said, Roy took a few steps forward and began their mighty mountain trek. Mia eyed him, amused, then looked down to Teddy the doggo.

“We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we, bud?”

Teddy simply wagged his tail in response.

[corner-stories]

11, 12, and 13

legacy/team/under appreciated content DC ask game

11. Which character who was created to be part of a team would you give a solo to?

If you look at my content you can tell that I have an honest love for Mia Dearden and I guess technically she was created to be part of the Arrowfam, seeing as she rarely ever appears outside of GA books. Even her TT appearances are sparse which is a shame considering she's the successor of one of the founders.

Judging by all the content I've written about her misadventures as a plucky 19-year-old archer grappling with both adulthood and superheroics, I would say that a solo series about her would make me die and go to heaven.

But DC, just give the reins to me and I'll write a little story about Mia's shenanigans in Seattle where she adopts a doggo named Viscount Theodore of Dearden aka Teddy, goes on amusing nights out with Tim or Bart or Rose, and deals with the downfalls of being a Cali girl in the Pacific Northwest.

12. Favorite side-kick?

It may be cheating if I said Mia again but I feel like I got to bc I love Bart but he's not really a sidekick, I love Donna but most of her iconic stories are in TT pages, and I love Rose but she was literally drugged into working with her father.

Mia's the only one who really fits the bill and I like her for that. She became Speedy bc she wants to help people with the time she has left and we REALLY don't talk about what that says about her character enough.

13. Favorite side-kick and mentor team for the interactions?

Switchin' things up by bringing in the Flashfam, but I've noticed that I really dig Jesse and Jay's interactions when they were on the JSA.

Jesse doesn't exactly fit the bill as a sidekick but Jay's interactions with her just felt very mentor-like to me. Even when the JSA split into two factions they remained on the same team.

While we're talking Jay, I also have a soft spot for him and Bart bc in a contrast to Max's unwavering patience with the boy, Jay seems to age 10 years every time he and Bart interact and my gremlin mind thinks that's hilarious