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Stiles is Not a Supervillain

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Stiles’ mom wasn’t his mother.

That sounds weird. Stiles means that his mom, Claudia Stilinski, didn’t give birth to him. His aunt did. Seventeen years ago, his aunt fell pregnant and asked his mom to adopt him. He didn’t figure it out until later, but her boyfriend at the time was trouble. The Clown Prince of Crime kind of trouble.

He grew up pretty removed from the crazy that was his mom’s city. He only saw her a few times a year, and his parents made sure to keep any news about Gotham to a minimum in their house. It didn’t stop him from loving his aunt, though, and he dares anyone to insult her in front of him. Jackson learned that lesson personally in fourth grade.

Stiles still believes he deserved worse. Jackson thinks he’s just as crazy for defending someone like Harley Quinn.




Stiles should have known his dad wouldn’t drop it when Stiles came home covered in bruises. He knows that he’s fucked the moment his dad sees the extent of his injuries.

Fresh from a shower, Stiles stands awkwardly in nothing but a towel in front of his dad. He doesn’t even know where to begin this lie. Bruises were easy but the burns and the gashes where Gerard’s knife cut into him? He’s fucked.

His dad ends the silence himself. “You are going to your aunt’s.”


“No arguments. You are going somewhere where whatever shit you’ve gotten yourself involved in can’t do this to you.”


“No, Stiles.” His dad snaps. “I don’t want to hear it.”

And that’s how he moved to Gotham to get away from the crazy that his life had become.




Stiles thrives with Harley. She takes one look at him and decides he needs to toughen up. The training is brutal, but so worth it.

The physical excursion helps to calm his mind when it gets too crowded. Keeping up with Harley’s whims is just fun. He’s glad that she broke up with the Joker. He’s even more happy to help her out with her new business.

People start calling him Little Red, Lil’ Red if you’re Harley, and Stiles doesn’t know how he feels about that. He would like it stated on record that he owned that hoodie long before he met any werewolves and he didn’t ask anyone to start calling him by a codename. Gotham is just like that.

Before he knows it, he’s become something new. Something nimble and strong and dangerous. And after two years, he can’t remember how it feels to be anything else.




Stiles doesn’t really think much about Beacon Hills. He knows who’s still alive and who’s dead, but that’s about it. The city keeps him far too occupied to worry about the pack.

But then he gets a call from Beacon Hills and is curious when it isn’t his dad but Peter Hale calling.

“Scott wants to let the Calaveras set up shop in Beacon Hills. I thought if anyone could remind him why we don’t play nice with hunters, it’d be you.”

“It’s been too long,” Stiles coos. He hasn’t thought of the man in years and he never got to have any fun with him when he was just a scared kid in over his head. It’s time to change that. “And straight to business too,” Stiles continues, “No how was your day, what have you been up to. You could hurt a guy’s feelings.”

Peter laughs softly, “I’ll catch up when I see you face to face, Little Red. Something tells me this is a job you’ll be happy to take.”

Stiles doesn’t ask how Peter knows who Little Red is. He’d be more surprised if someone as smart as Peter didn’t recognize him.

Stiles hums like he has to consider it. He knows that he’s going back. “I dunno. Seems a bit below my pay grade.”

“We’re meeting with the hunters at the old house this Friday. I’m certain they will try to kill us.”

“They’re the Calaveras. You’d better hope all they want is your death.”




He’s packing a bag when Harley walks in on him going through their armory. She asks when he’s leaving and then she asks if he really thinks he’s going back without his favorite aunt.

“You’re my only aunt.” He says instead of arguing. He didn’t want to go alone anyways.

“Hush, you. Hey! Y’know what I’ve always wanted to do?” Harley says. Stiles looks up at the jingle of keys.

“How on earth did you even get those?”

“C’mon! We’re traveling in style.”

She bounces away with a wicked grin on her face. Stiles shakes his head fondly. She is going to get herself in so much trouble with this one.

Those were batman’s keys.




Batman is a lot of things, but a cheapskate isn’t one of them. Stiles loves this jet, and if he thought for a second that they could get away with it, he would live in it.

They land with Beacon Hills none the wiser, and that’s just fine with him. It’s been two years, Stiles is feeling a bit dramatic, and he doesn’t want his big return to be spoiled so soon.

He takes one of Batman’s grappling gadgets and ties his favorite submachine gun to his back. Harley runs out of the jet with a childlike glee, stomping along the underbrush and making jokes about lost puppies.

“Let’s go, Harley. The house is this way,” Stiles says. She quiets herself as they move through the dark, bat in hand. It’s not long before they’re not alone.

Harley takes out the stragglers quickly. Stiles counts fifteen by the time they reach the house. The hunters are already talking to Scott and his pack by the time they arrive. Stalling, Stiles would guess, as their men finished laying the trap.

Harley focuses on stopping whatever they’ve set up while Stiles confronts them directly. Stiles smiles. Time for the fun part.

It’s simple enough to work Batman’s tech and in a few smooth motions he’s swinging up and jumping off the trunk of a tree. He lands feet first on one of the hunter’s shoulders. A crack sounds through the air as he snaps his neck. Stiles keeps his momentum, jumping off the hunter and landing in between the wolves and the hunters.

“Y’know,” Stiles says as he pulls out the submachine gun, “you guys are supposed to be some kinda bigshots.”

He squeezes the trigger, mowing them all down quickly. Stiles doesn’t stop until he’s run out of bullets.

“I gotta say,” Stiles laughs, turning back to the pack. He meets Peter’s eyes in the back. “I’m a little disappointed.”

Peter is only one who laughs.




Derek got himself an apartment. Stiles is very proud.

Everyone is watching as Peter and Scott fight in the middle of Derek’s apartment over what just happened. Harley has made herself at home on the ledge of Derek’s upstairs nursing a mug of what Stiles thinks is tea. Stiles is sitting sprawled out on the stairs below her with Derek standing next to him.

“I’d criticize your lack of furniture, but I’m just happy you’re living in an actual apartment and not some abandoned underground train station.” Stiles tells Derek when Scott only seems to be gaining more steam.

Derek huffs out a laugh. “Shut up, Stiles.”

“Well, someone hasn’t changed.”

“Heya!” Harley calls down, “Meat lover’s or Hawaiian? I’m ordering pizza.”

“Surprise me,” Stiles hollers back.

“Ok!” Isaac says, gesturing to Harley and Stiles, “is anyone going to ask why Harley Fucking Quinn is here?”

Everyone’s attention is finally on them which is kind of funny considering the whole fight was about Stiles and Harley in the first place.

“She’s my aunt.” Stiles says at the same time Peter says, “I hired her.”

“You hired me.” Stiles says.

“And last I checked, you and Harley were a package deal.”

“Check me out a lot do you, Peter?”

“Not nearly often enough.”

“Stop, please,” Derek says. “I do not need the memory of my uncle hitting on a child.”

“I’m 19.”

“We aren’t done!” Scott says in an attempt to regain control of the room.

“Speaking of hiring Stiles,” Stiles says, “I do believe you owe us.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Harley says, “Look.” Harley shows him her phone and the quarter million transferred into their account.

Stiles pouts. “No cash? I can’t make that rain.”

There’s a knock on the door. Harley jumps down to the ground floor. “Pizza’s here!”




The jet is gone by the time they get back. Stiles can’t say that he’s surprised.

His dad, however, is very surprised to see him at his door. It doesn’t last.

“You were supposed to keep him safe,” He says angrily at Harley as he lets them in.

“I’m safe!” Stiles says, gesturing to his very uninjured body.

“You’re a supervillain, Stiles!”

“Well that’s a bit dramatic.”

“Oh, calm down, John. You wanted me to make sure nothing ever hurt Stiles like the…lacrosse team did. Well now he’s the most dangerous thing in any room. Unless I’m there, then second dangerous.”

John sighs. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, come on, dad. Let’s just enjoy our little reunion before I head back home, ok?”

Something sad passes over John’s face for a second before it’s buried, and he gives up. “Yeah, ok.”




Peter is waiting for them in the driveway the next morning.

“What’s up,” Stiles says, still groggy from sleep.

“I have officially been kicked out of the pack and banished from Beacon Hills.”

“Scott can’t banish Hales from Hale land. That’s ridiculous.”

“As the territory’s alpha, he can.”

“And I suppose you want me to talk to him?”

“I’m not interested in wasting anymore time on the boy. Besides, now that you’re evil incarnate, he wouldn’t listen to you anyways.”

Stiles scoffs, “Evil incarnate. Honestly, everyone is so dramatic. I’m not a supervillain.”

“Derek wants to stay and keep an eye on the territory while I’m away. His betas will stay with Scott as long as Derek does.”

“Why are you here, Peter?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’ve got another job for you.” Peter grins. “I want you to make me an alpha again.”

Stiles thinks of the punk ass alpha who thinks being a werewolf is going to give him an edge in Gotham’s underground and he thinks of having Peter around and then he thinks of having Peter.

“For you? I’ll do it for free.”