Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Stiles would love to say he was doing good, that once they had gotten rid of the Nogitsune everything got back to normal and he returned to enjoying his last year as a minor. He would be lying if he said that though.
It’s been a whole year since the whole affair, since Alison’s death, since his body was ripped from the inside out and his spirit was thrown into a new empty body shell. Since that moment, Stiles had tried to claw his way out of his mind, to be present and alive, but it was hard. He couldn’t act like nothing had happened, not when his own father had let him down and was now avoiding him. He first thought nothing of it, thinking that his father’s work was once again put before him. Still, when he tried to talk to the man about going to therapy, the guilt radiating from the man and his fleeing eyes were enough to make him realize that the avoidance was intentional: his father, the flesh of his flesh, didn’t want him here. It was the same for his brother, the one that was supposed to stay by his side until the last day ever, the werewolf Stiles had followed into the Supernatural world with no other weapon than his sarcasm.

Once this was made clear, Stiles wasn’t ashamed to say he went back into a trance-like state for a while, going with the motions of life without really being here. He stayed like this for a while, the Pack seemingly content to let him be even if it was clear that something was off. Maybe they thought he needed time, maybe they didn’t care, it was hard to say and Stiles wasn’t in any state to try and understand their actions.
As it was, Stiles broke out of this in-between state when he realized something was wrong with him, something more than just trauma and neglect. His own body was betraying him, acting without his impulse. It had started small, with his finger curling a bit too tight around people’s hands -when they dared touch him-, his teeth aching badly enough to make him break focus when it happened, blood-lust coming from nowhere and more mortifyingly, arousal stirring low in his belly for no reason at odd times. The last one was part of why he started distancing himself from the Pack: sure they were still teenagers, most of the Pack being sixteen and Stiles being seventeen, but they had passed the age of getting hot and bothered because of a strong gust of wind! This situation was confusing and embarrassing as all hell but most of all, it was another lack of control that terrified Stiles., the Nogitsune might not have chosen this type of torture, making his distaste known for beings that needed to stoop so low to inflict anguish on their prey, but the sensation was reminiscent enough.

It was concerning that, in some situations, Stiles couldn’t tell if he was the one deciding to act on his impulsive thoughts or if it was something else that did it for him. Before isolating himself, he tried to talk with the Pack, namely with Derek, but the wolf only told him that he was just getting more in touch with his own instincts and that it was a good thing. He told him that it showed that it was truly him and not someone else in his head, that it was his mind’s way to take back the power the Nogitsune took from him before. And maybe that was it when he acted on his craving for ice cream or his need for new knowledge, but what about everything else? How was he supposed to tell Derek about the pit in his stomach that never seemed to diminish and the way his mind screamed at him to just take from the people around him to fill the void? How was he supposed to associate the drive to sink his nails deep into people’s skin until he could feel their flesh around his fingers and their blood trickling his arms with “instincts”? Or yet, how was he supposed to cope with the impulse to not only touch people but to feel them inside him, to be one with them until he had absorbed everything they were worth and let them empty?
All those thoughts couldn’t come from him, not entirely, and when he tried to explain it while staying vague on what those thoughts were, the Alpha only responded that Stiles was still in shock from what happened and it was normal to be, that he wasn’t sure of his mind yet because he lost faith in himself but everything would be okay with time. There was so much care in his words and so much confidence that it didn’t feel right to push the issue and risk hurting Derek, so Stiles just hugged him and let it be. When his mind made more demands for violence and ownership, Stiles started lessening his interaction with the Alpha and the rest of the Pack, determined to keep them safe from himself. He didn’t ghost them, didn’t want them to question it and get worried, but he slowly reduced the amount of time he was at the loft, and stopped proposing to have game nights at his house or to go eat at the dinner. He merged with the background until his presence wasn’t noticeable anymore before eclipsing himself from their daily lives.

As time went by, Stiles took note of all the changes in his comportment and his body, and dread engulfed him: something was definitely still here. Some remnants of the Nogitsune or something close enough were still in his body, in this false body the creature had created when they separated. The realization threw him into a panic attack before he tried to rationalize what needed to happen next. Stiles needed to learn more about whatever was happening to him, and if he turned out to be a threat to the Pack and the people he cared about, then he needed to find someone willing to put him down.
It wasn’t something he wanted, he would do whatever was possible to spare his loved one the grief and be able to go back to how things used to be with the Pack, but if he had to die then so be it. He would do anything in his power to prevent any more innocent deaths. The question was who would be willing to do it? He couldn’t rely on himself for obvious reasons, Chris Argent was a no-go since he proved he couldn’t act right when the time was right, he would never ask Derek to do something like this, and the rest of the Pack was out of the question. Deaton would probably do it, but Stiles didn’t trust him not to experiment on him before putting an end to it so he would pass. Racking his mind for a potential candidate, Peter popped into mind, but Stiles quickly diverted his thoughts, the idea of asking the man to help feeling a bit too final, and forcing him into this position didn’t sit right with Stiles. Maybe he could revisit the issue a bit later after he gathered some information on what was happening. After all, perhaps he could figure this out and go on without worrying anyone about the situation.

Nodding to himself, Stiles started to research anything related to possession in the books he stole from the Vet, taking notes on the side effects it could have on the body and the mind. He read about Western and oriental demons, not only Japanese Nogitsune to be sure not to miss something but nothing made sense! When he found information on one of his symptoms, the others were described as “incompatible” with the type of possession or were only found in a specific type of possedee. All in all, Stiles was lost and frustrated with what he could find on his own. Even with Deaton’s book, he was still going nowhere, and the other documents he found on the subject were worth more than all his medical bills. Turning to the internet wasn’t any better, the few trusted websites he knew linked his thoughts to vampirism or the mind of a succubus which wasn’t helpful since he never was in contact with the first one, and succubi and incubi were born not made.
Grunting, Stiles had to admit that he needed new material if he wanted to find anything useful to his situation, so now he needed to ask himself how he could acquire more information without selling both his kidneys. Maybe he could see if Deaton had any new books… But that would mean sneaking in again and taking the risk of the shady druid seeing that something was off. Or maybe he could try to find someone who would be willing to trade the information with him, but what could he trade it with, that was the question.
Sighing, Stiles came to a sad realization: Peter Hale was his only reliable resource right now, both for information and for killing him if needed. All things pointed to the man and there wasn’t much else Stiles could do other than try to make a deal with him if he wanted to go forward. He would have been fine with it if he hadn’t been supposed to be part of a Pack, to be a core member of it, and thus to have plenty of options. But no, the only good one was a man on the fringes, tethering to a fiddle bond and lurking in the shadows most of the time. It wasn’t that Peter was a bad option, he was smart and would do anything to keep the Pack strong, but still.

Knowing this, Stiles started to plan the best way to approach Peter and obtain his help. Thankfully, he seemed to be Peter's favorite or the one that made him the least homicidal of the lot anyway. They had a tentative friendship if he could say so, both of them working together on research when needed, even if they mostly did it while ignoring each other, exchanging papers when they gave information on the other’s subject, and talking only when needed -mostly when they went to fetch food or drinks, or when they found what they were looking for-. When they weren’t mute, they were bantering and trying to see which one could put the most sarcasm in a single sentence. There wasn’t any hostility between them, far from it, but neither was there a formidable amiability, it was… positive neutral he would say. They liked each other and liked to snark together, but it was clear to Stiles that if they had to choose between their comfort or the others, then their research buddy wouldn’t be the priority. Peter was, after all, the Left Hand of the Pack and had lived his whole life by making the Pack go first.
Thinking about it, it would probably be best to ask Peter for help during one of their research sessions, when no one would be around to snoop or anger the man, letting them both in their own bubble. He would probably say yes because it would give him access to knowledge that the rest of the Pack didn’t have, even if it concerned one of theirs, and because it would be good for the Pack, but the question was what would he want in return. Well, there was only one way to find out, and it was to ask. Thankfully -or not, depending on how you were looking at it-, Stiles had agreed to go to Peter's to update the bestiary they were putting together, and so he wouldn’t have to wait for long before knowing what would be the ‘wolf’s reaction.

Chapter Text

Stiles wasn’t afraid, he was just tense. And worried. The cravings had gotten even worse and he needed to know what was happening to him. During his last fight with the Pack against the new Big Bad of the Week, Stiles had tackled the witch with all his weight and crunched her hands until she couldn’t move a single finger, actively cutting her spellcasting but also acting on the impulses that brewed in his head. He broke every phalange, every metacarpal, and tore her lumbrical muscles with his own bare hands, covering his forearms with blood due to the witch’s injuries. For a second, it was like Stiles had claws, and maybe he had, he didn’t know because it was all so blurry. When he pushed back from the now crying witch, all he could feel was the euphoria of warm blood and parting flesh, the pit in his stomach finally satiated that the threat had been taken care of. A couple of minutes passed before reality crashed on him and he scrambled backward to put some space between himself and the witch, doing so at the perfect time as Scott was just now erupting from the nearby trees, the rest of the Pack not far behind.
Thankfully, Stiles was so shocked that he couldn’t explain what had happened and no lies were detected when he said he didn’t know how their enemy was subdued like this. The blood on him appeared to help sell his innocence, the substance having been rubbed on his neck when the man panicked and grabbed his own throat to try to calm himself. As it was, it looked like the witch had tried to strangle him and placed him as the victim here. While Derek and Peter went to the witch to make sure she wouldn’t cause any more problems, Scott tried to calm Stiles down and the rest was just a blurry mess. Once he was calm and rational again, Stiles sat in the loft, alone with Peter as if the world was trying to send him a message and tell him to hurry up and tell somebody before he did something even more violent and kill someone.

Cleaning his throat, Stiles fixed Peter and waited for the man to look at him before saying anything but didn’t really know how to start this discussion, so he avoided the subject for now.

“Where’s everyone?”
“Hello to you too, sweetheart. How delightful to see you back with us. They’re somewhere in the preserve, trying to catch the rest of the coven.”
“The rest of it? What happened to the witch?”
“The one you tore into earlier? We took care of it with Derek. There was no point keeping her alive, she would have just babbled about you and nothing else.”

Seeing the way Stiles’s eyes widened, Peter tilted his head, trying to understand why the man was so panicked from having dealt with a threat. By breaking her hands, he had stopped her from cursing them without killing her outright, it was a good thing. Alas, the man didn’t seem to see it that way.

“Darling, breath. It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not, Peter, it’s really not!”
“And why that? You saved us.”
“I tortured her!”
“And we killed her. What about it?”
“You chose to! I didn’t!”

Silence rang between them before Peter’s eyes widened and narrowed in turn, his full attention focused on Stiles, searching for something in his eyes, on his face, making him sigh once he found it.

“You’ve been hiding something. Is it linked? Is that why you try to stay away from us?”
“Peter, I can’t, it’s dangerous, it’s… Something is still there. I tried to do research, catalog everything, and understand what was happening but I couldn't. I need- I need your help. Nobody knows, just you, so please help me to find out what is going on. ”
“What makes you say there is still something in your mind? Tell me everything.”

And Stiles did. He told him about how he dreamed of burying his hands in somebody’s chest and squeezing their still-beating heart until it exploded, how he wanted to feed from the blood and the lust that would have led this stranger to this exact moment. He explained the rush of finally doing something that soothed the pit in his stomach, complaining about the constant hornyness and his newfound stamina. He growled about the hate directed at anyone who could be a threat to the Pack, even if he had distanced himself from it. When prompted, he also shared his observation on his body itself: the smoother skin, the pain in his teeth and the way they looked more pointy than before, his nails and hair being seemingly stronger and glossier than before too.
The werewolf was silent, listening to everything Stiles had to say and nodding along, sometimes furrowing his brows or tilting his head in thought. After a while, the wolf gazed at Stiles with a troubled expression and finally asked a question about this whole situation.

“Why did you tell me, Stiles? What do you want from me?”
“Information. I want to understand what’s happening so I can be sure to keep control of this. I need to know if I’m going to be a threat.”
“And what would happen if you were one?”
“Then I want you to kill me.”
“Is that why you came to me? Because I’d kill you if needed?”
“You’re the Left Hand, that’s your job. But you’re also the Lorekeeper, you’re my best chance to stay alive, too. I don’t know what you want in exchange but-”
“I want you alive, Stiles. That’s what I want! Stop acting like a fool and throwing yourself a pity party. You’re supposed to be smart, act like it!”

The anger in Peter’s voice was surprising and Stiles was absolutely taken aback because of it. Sure, he knew he was probably sending horrible neurosignals right now but still, it was normal to be afraid in this situation! And yes he was smart, but what good did it do to be smart if you didn’t have the means to apply your intelligence to the task at hand? Stiles started to unravel quickly before Peter started talking again.

“Stiles. We’ve been working together for some time now. I’ve been lending you my books, my rare and fragile books, all the time. I let you in my home, the one nobody knows about. I’m making you food every time you’re here. And you’re telling me you’ve waited this long because you were afraid of the compensation I’d ask for? You should know better than to work on assumption.”
“I am not. It’s a fact that you always find a way to transform your help into a fair deal, asking for something in return. I’m demanding something huge here, it would make sense that you ask for something equivalent, and I’m okay with it, I just don't know if I can offer you anything worth it.”
“You really want to give me something? Fine. Give me access to your thoughts, your instincts, and your abilities, and let me ask as many questions as I want. Is that enough for you? Or should I ask for more?”

Stiles was stunned by the vehemence still present in the man’s voice, but also the hurt edge in it. At this point, he didn't know what to say or what to do, because even if he was stressed he wasn’t stupid and could understand where Peter was coming from. What he couldn’t understand was how he didn’t see it earlier, because now that he thought about it it was quite obvious that they had been friends for a while, that they had been pack. Looking at the annoyed wolf, Stiles sighed before getting up and coming closer to him.

“You know I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t trust you, right? Just because I’m afraid of what could happen doesn't mean I’m afraid of you. It’s just… I don’t want to hurt people, and that includes you. You saw what I did to the witch, and that’s just one of the impulses I have. What if I act on the other ones? There is no way to know what I’ll do or how dangerous I could be, because let’s face it, I’m not supposed to be able to slice skin and muscles like I did.”
“Just because you’re capable of violence doesn’t mean you’ll act on it. You’ve always been capable of violence, you threw a Molotov cocktail at me without much thought when we met. It didn’t stop you from becoming my favorite of the lot. But if you think you changed while acting on those impulses, that may help us direct our research. What’s happening to you can’t be a possession if your body altered itself to this level, it’s more likely that it is a shift. I have some books that could help, come.”

Squeezing Stiles’s hands, Peter got up and pulled his guest with him through the house until they were in the attic, a beautiful room that had been turned into a cozy library solely dedicated to supernatural matters. Peter’s sheer will to put this discussion past them was enough for Stiles to follow the motion with his mouth shut and to dive head-first into research with the man.
They started by dividing their resources by categories of supernatural beings, keeping a pile for the shifters, one for the magic users, one for the spirit’s successors, and a last one for the demoniac creatures. This part was the most tedious, both men pouring over Peter’s index and deciding if a source was worth keeping or if they could set it aside. Once they sorted half of the library, it was already nighttime and they both decided to continue the next day. It went like this for weeks, sorting through the library, then the Hale Vault, adding to this Deaton’s “lost” books and then separating the text by provenance, focusing on Japanese and Polish texts, trying to find a link between what could be happening and Stiles’s descent. It was the most logical thing to do since genetics played an important role in any transformation and Stiles’s had been mixed with the Nogitsune’s following their… cohabitation.

All the while Stiles's instincts were brewing and making him act up in strange ways. The worst of it was kept behind closed doors, the brunette letting his control slip a bit when it was just Peter and him, leading to embarrassing situations like Stiles licking or biting Peter out of nowhere during their research. The amount of scenting he was doing was also a point they both noted, making them refocus their research on werecreatures and other animal-adjacent beings. They had pondered the idea of Stiles becoming a Nogitsune himself since he seemed quite attracted by the idea of killing but the idea was soon abandoned when the duo decided to test those instincts thanks to the limitless amount of threat that crossed the territory’s borders during their research.
It was found that it wasn’t the violence that was attractive but the idea of accessing the living force of the other, being one and assessing their worth. It turns out Stiles was only killing those that his instincts didn’t see as deserving of him, and contrary to Stiles himself, his instincts were picky. Killing was thus a question of earnings, unfortunately, arousal was not, and testing those instincts had turned out to be extremely dangerous for the other party. As it was, Stiles’s partners would feel weak, and pass out, their heart rate would slow until it stuttered to a stop. When that happened, the panic had been horrible, and Stiles had to revive the man he had just been with and fled the scene once he was sure it was safe to let him here. It was a shame that this happened every time because from what he gathered, the sex wasn’t only better from his perspective but also from his partner’s, which was admittedly a good thing as far as magical modification went.
More than that, sex, just like death, could fill the void in his stomach, the gnawing hunger that was always there, and was thus a relief for both his body and his mind. He wasn’t about to lie, sometimes both the lust for blood and for sex were battling inside his mind and he had considered sleeping with less than stellar people and just letting them die. It wasn’t a painful death, nor a dragged one, the last feeling being ecstasy and all, and Stiles could thus kill and feel full again without risking innocent getting hurt in the process. The problem was that morally speaking it wasn’t a valuable option. Stiles didn’t like to use sex as a ruse and hated the idea of getting intimate with people he knew he would kill when he had other options. Even worse, sleeping with people he genuinely liked was also something he hesitated doing now, the risks being too high to consider having a relationship. Sleeping with people here and there was okay because they wouldn’t risk exposure and it wouldn’t take a toll on their health if it was only once, but a partner? It could get messy really fast.

It was actually sad because Stiles wasn’t blind, he saw the way Peter sometimes looked at him, and he knew he would have fallen for him long ago if he wasn’t so hellbent on protecting the wolf from inevitable heartache. Because let’s be honest, as time passed and Stiles acted more frequently on his urges, he was made even more aware of how dangerous it could all become, and the fact that the pair couldn't find anything on what he was becoming only reinforced the idea of him being on borrowed time. For all Stiles knew, Peter would have to put him down soon, and he taking whatever was between them further only to ask Peter to take it away himself would simply be wrong and downright evil.o let the wolf see how happy they could be only to tell him to destroy it by his own claws - as in putting Stiles six feet under without the resurrection card with him-.
It was painful to imagine what could be, but it was also a good motivation because if there was even a slight chance that they could have this, then Stiles would fight for it, and that meant digging and digging into old books until they found something. And so, they kept digging until Peter unearthed a silver piece of information that made all the rest of this make sense. It put everything in a different light and soon they were both buzzing with energy and giddiness. It turned out that Stiles was turning into a Kitsune, but not an elemental Kitsune like Kira or her mom, but a Kitsune of the Olds, a spirit wanton by nature, a Bake-Kitsune that will lead men into temptation to satisfy its desire.

Surprisingly, what put them on this path was The Konjaku Monogatari, a book regrouping stories written during the Heian Period from Japan, India, and China. In this anthology, there was one tale talking about a Bake-Kitsune which was said to “satisfy its desire by having relations with men through the art of bewitchery”. It also explained, in the fox tradition, that “the Kitsuné is making use of its superior brains in various ways in bewitching men.”. More than that, the anthology explained that when kitsunes weren’t feeding from righteous retribution and enough skin-on-skin contact, then the foxes would turn themselves into the shape of fascinating humans and exhaust the energy of their victims by seducing and sleeping with them. The men victimized, it is believed, are to die, sooner or later due to a low level of life force or in certain cases due to curses placed upon them by a crossed Kitsune.
All the actions described in the stories would echo with Stiles’s troubling needs and feelings, the ache in his jaw for example was his body and mind battling for his fangs to drop, and the easiness with which he sliced the witch’s hands could be attributed to claws, and the ever-present lust burning in his veins came from his new biology. All in all, that was reassuring, even if they still needed to find a way to curb the urges and for him to live with them without being a danger to his loved ones, but it was quite a relief to finally know what was happening. That night after they found the text and Stiles’s new elusive nature, both men shared a smile full of hope, yearning for a happy future.

Chapter Text

Following their discovery, Peter and Stiles put everything into finding more about the Bake Kitsune while hope grew in them and Stiles started interacting once more with the Pack. He wasn’t over the fact that Scott didn’t message him once, or even asked the Sheriff about his well-being since it had been clear for Stiles that Scott had replaced him in his father’s life after the incident. He wasn’t especially angry about the replacement because he could understand that Scott wanted a father figure, he was just sad that he wasn’t enough for the Sheriff and so easily put aside by the both of them. He didn’t had any space to cry about it though, because the rest of the Pack was mùaking an effort to stay with him and make him a place in their group. Everything was slowly coming back to normal, or as normal as it would be, and Stiles was acting on his instincts with Peter’s help -the wolf insisting on giving him as many cuddles as he needed and offering to guide him in his shifting training- and the sacrifice of the big bads crossing their land with less than pure intentions.
All was good, Stiles was out of his depressed state, relieved to be able to take care of the Pack and see his friends, even if he had been hesitant at first. It was, once again, Peter who helped him overcome his anxiety with patience and soft words, warm hands, and harder-than-steel confidence. It went like this:

Stiles was fidgeting, seemingly lost in thoughts, looking nothing like the ruthless young man Peter knew he was. The Kitsune was looking so small sitting on his couch, legs tucked close to his chest and eyes lost in space. It was unsettling to see him like this when he had been tearing through a harpy's throat less than an hour ago, pupils dilated with ecstasy and scent sweeter than ever, permeated with lust.
Approaching slowly, Peter put his hand on the man’s shoulder, waiting for him to react before doing anything else, knowing full well that he could easily lose a limb if he found himself on Stiles's bad side. When the only response was a soft hum and the kitsune letting his weight rest on Peter, the older man sat down and hugged him, talking in a hushed tone in order to disturb him more than necessary.

“What’s going on with you, hmm? You’re so out of it, do you need anything?”
“Hm… s’nothing.”
“Sure it is. Tell me what can I do.”

Stiles looked at him with guarded eyes and sighed before trying to burrow himself into Peter’s chest, hiding as much of his face as he could without suffocating.

“Do you think the Pack misses me? They never said anything when I left early or refused to come to the outings.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Of course, they do, they’re just giving you space because they don’t know what else to do.”
“You’re sure? Derek’s the only one who even texts. Maybe they don’t-”
“Stiles. You’re part of the Pack. You’re a central part of it even. You know how my nephew is, so you must know that him texting you shows how much he cares, don’t you?”
“Yes, I guess, but that’s only because they don’t know what I am now, I still have the potential to be a threat. You saw how Scott reacted with the witch, he would hate me if he knew. Hell, he already resented me before all this because I was in the way of him playing the happy family with my dad and his mom. now that I am actually capable of ruining it for him? It will be even worse.
“Dear, Scott hates violence and is pretty stupid, true, but even he can see how much the other teens love you. Maybe he will need time to act amicably around you, but if he can accept a family of hunters as his in-laws, I’m sure he can accept a Kitsune as a Pack member. Even if he doesn’t, the rest of the Pack will be here for you because they know you, they know who you are, and becoming a kitsune wouldn’t change that. ”

The doubt Stiles was feeling was still there, but hearing Peter say all this made it better because he was using logic here, he was rationalizing the issue instead of giving him platitudes. Thinking about it, the wolf was right: Stiles being a Kitsune didn’t make him any closer to his dad and even if Stiles came back to the Pack, he wasn't a threat to Scott's little roleplay, because the wolf was still the golden son and the Alpha. It also helped to know that he would stay by his side even if something were to happen. It didn’t hurt either that some of Peter’s sources had told them that Bake-kitsune were generally well-loved and even seen as an asset due to their capacities.
All in all, Peter had helped Stiles to get over the change and see it as something good instead of something to fear. They even tried to see how his capacities could be used in a fight by training together and thus building Stiles’s self-confidence. By the time he could take Peter in a fight and still have enough energy to run the preserve without huffing like he was having an asthma attack, Stiles judged himself safe enough to talk with the Pack about his situation without bringing chaos and unnecessary worry. And thus, that was where he was right now.

Stiles was standing in front of the Pack, all the members sat in different chairs, sofas, or on the floor (hello Malia, we’re talking about you), looking at him with different degrees of worry or interest in their eyes. Peter was in his favorite spot, the stairs, and was giving him a small smile to encourage him, and that gave Stiles the final push to start his speech.

“So. You saw that I wasn’t doing too well a while ago, and I know some of you are still trying to understand what happened there so I thought I’d tell you everything. It’s nothing bad, per se, but it’s still something we need to talk about. I’m not human anymore. And no, I’m not a shifter either, or well, not entirely I guess.”

Brouhaha erupted around him, everyone talking at the same time until Derek decided to give Stiles enough time to answer and thus asked his betas to wait and listen before asking more questions. He seemed so done with the Pack antique that Stiles couldn’t help himself and snorted when he saw the Alpha’s face. His seriousness quickly returned however when he was meant to answer all of the Pack questions. He started with the easiest one, asked by Lydia: what was he?

“I’m a Bake-Kitsune. From what we found, they're a type of Kitsune that isn’t linked to any elemental power but is known for their intelligence and mischievous nature. And for their neediness which was, uh, the main concern, really.”

There was a bit of silence before some of the pack members raised their arms and waited to be interrogated, like middle schoolers, which was way too cute for Stiles’s nerves not to melt away. He decided to let Jackson ask his question now so he wouldn’t get annoyed by the waiting. Surprisingly, it was a good question.

“When you say neediness, do you mean you need attention? Because I don’t really see how that could be a concern, you already have time with each of us and bask in attention pretty constantly when you’re here.”
“Attention is probably part of it but I need touch, quite a large amount of it. And intimacy, whatever form it takes. Lust is also pretty constantly present.”

Scott couldn’t help but ask a question even though he was supposed to let Stiles explain everything before doing so, and had acted as if his return wasn’t especially desired but going by the nods from the others, it may have been for the best since they looked a bit lost right now. To Stiles’s surprise, Derek was next.

“Doesn’t lust and intimacy come together? I mean- intimacy is uh quite lustful, right.?”
“Well they do go together, but only because there are different types of both. Like, for example, intimacy can be sex and then the lust is the erotic kind, but I also crave violence and then the lust isn’t the same, it’s more like bloodlust than sexual desire. Don’t look at me like that Scott, I‘m not going around killing innocents, I know how to deal with this.
“So, you’re not a threat then? You know how to deal with your instincts?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, Derek. I trained and did some research on the subject. Peter helped, by the way. I’m not a threat to you or the Pack, only to people who wrong me or are deemed… unworthy of life, let’s say.”

There was silence for a bit after that before Isaac piped up again, making them all cackle when he looked at Jackson and asked “Are you a threat to Jackson then?”, before getting smacked upon the back of the head by said werewolf. It relaxed the atmosphere further, except for Scott who was looking a little sour. Stiles was ready to let it be for now, unfortunately, not everyone was from this opinion and Lydia asked about it in a tone that indicated that she knew exactly what she was doing. To no one surprise, Scott looked disgusted and answered with all the pent-up frustration he had stored away, brows furrowed and mouth turned downward while he whined about Peter’s involvement.

“Well, it’s just that all this violence and lust seems unlike Stiles. And he said Peter helped so it’s normal to be worried! Why would he help? And what if Stiles became like him! Why did you help, Peter.”
“Why, because he asked me to, obviously.”

An uproar followed that statement and Stiles didn’t know if he was more annoyed by the Pack’s suspicions or Peter’s need to cause a tumult. He understood that the wolf wasn’t the most trustworthy in their eyes, but he had been there for Stiles, had helped him, and made sure he knew he was welcome in the Pack. He was the reason the younger man was even here today. And even if the Pack didn’t know this, the simple fact that Stiles decided to trust him should be enough to calm their nerves. They were supposed to trust Stiles and his judgment!
After a bit, Stiles decided to break the shouting match that was taking place in the Loft, trying to do it with diplomacy, asking quite loudly if anyone had questions for him or if he could go home for the rest of the day. It worked splendidly, most of his packmates’s heads turning to look at him and let Peter alone. Jackson was once more the one to ask a question, putting the discussion back on the rails and allowing Peter a break.

“Can we go back to the lust thing? Because you talked about sex but you never said anything else. Is it some shit like succubus thrall? Do you mess with their head to feed? And what about the violence?”
“No, I don’t. Everything is consensual. As for the violence, we have enough of it with the different threats crossing our borders and killing innocents, I don’t need to go and search for additional fights. Even if I wanted to do something more, the bloodlust is special, it only works with people who actually wronged me or the people I care about, it can’t be just anyone. But that’s a good thing actually because it means that’s not the most predominant need I have.”

Jackson nodded, and it was clear that he was truly worried about the consent issue with Stiles’s new disposition. It was comprehensive seeing all that happened in their life due to mind control, and Stiles was surprisingly proud of the other man for asking about his doubt. Thinking about it, Stiles made sure to make a note of it and find some time to explain everything about his “feeding habits” to Jackson. Lydia made a snide comment about using Peter to assuage his need for violence but Stiles decided to ignore it, the void in his stomach seeming to grow and pulse the more he looked at her, ideas of how he could make her scream in anguish.
Thankfully, the questions after that shifted to a less sensible subject, Stiles’s shift: was he able to grow fangs? claws? Did he have a beta shift? Did his eyes change colors? Isaac even asked if Stiles could grow a tail, to which he asked if Isaac could, and the subject went back to everyday matters. All in all, it went way better than what Stiles thought would happen, and even Peter seemed more relaxed now, having gravitated closer to the rest of the Pack since Derek was apparently less reluctant to the idea of having the last of his family close by. Scott was still sulking a bit but nothing dire enough for Stiles to feel bad about it, and thus the man was happy.
Happy to be in the loft, to be in the Pack. Happy to have Peter with him, to have Derek, and all his loved ones. Happy to be back to a happy place in his life. The only missing piece was his father, but Stiles couldn’t do anything regarding their relationship since he couldn’t change his father’s feelings. He had grown up without him anyway, and he knew better than to wish for him to be here now that he saw what a happy loving family pack was like. It was okay, this ragtag group was already giving him so much love that he didn’t need his fathers, and now that the Pack knew about his need for closeness, Stiles was even fuller with attention. This was good. Life was good, and he hoped it would stay like this.

Chapter Text

As one could imagine, life didn’t stay good for long in Beacon Hills. Not for Stiles anyway.
After the whole Kitsune reveal, they all stayed at Derek to have a Pack night, eating together and speaking of anything and everything, staying close and exchanging soft touches to strengthen the bonds between all of them, as well as nourishing Stiles. It was good, making him feel cherished and letting a feeling of belonging course his entire body. It wasn’t the same feeling he had when he was with Peter, it was another form of care, another form of love, but he relished in it all the same.
The Pack bonds were stronger than ever, and even Peter was brought into the fray, most of the Pack accepting the fact that he helped Stiles and was the reason the man came back to them at all, which probably made him a good person in some ways. It didn’t hurt that he was a good strategist and would never deny Stiles so they all benefited from his help during attacks and study sessions, like now for example. It was a month and a half into Stiles’s quest to become the most surrounded Bake-Kitsune ever when one of the betas erupted in the Loft where they were all otherwise gathered, panting and dripping blood.
Within seconds, Stiles was up and going, helping as best he could by taking most of Isaac’s weight and ushering him to the closest seat before examining his wounds. There were slashes on his arms and chest but also a bite wound on his neck. The problem was that this didn’t look like a wolf’s bite, nor anything Stiles had ever seen: it was like the incisors (central and lateral) as well as the canines were fangs and he was about to joke about this being a vampire bites when he thought about it and realized that it was possible. In all the research they did with Peter, they had found that several species of vampires were roaming the Earth, all with specific fangs and behavior, and looking at the nonhealing bite on the werewolf’s neck, he couldn’t help but think that this was it: their town was the new Fork.

Looking at Peter while the rest of the Pack moved all around to gather supplies, Stiles tried to remember everything he came across and could see that Peter was doing the same. The werewolf had grabbed Derek’s arm and was now talking to him in a hushed tone, as if he wanted to avoid making the rest of the Pack panic, because yes, vampires were a legit reason to panic. Joining the two Hales, Stiles immediately jumped into the conversation, ready to receive the go-ahead to call Melissa. He didn’t expect to get the glare of doom from Derek for it though and he would probably confront him for it if they didn’t have bigger problems.

“It’s a Volturi, we need to kill them as quickly as possible and find the rest of the group they are traveling with. We also need blood for Isaac.”
“Are you making a Twilight joke right now, Stiles?”
“No, Derek./ I’m telling you we need to move before we get our asses handle to us by millennia-old vampires! So please, tell me if you have some blood bag somewhere or if I can call Melissa before your beta dies.”
“Call her, but you’re going to explain this after.”

Stiles gestured to Peter as if it was answer enough and went out to make the call, reciting Isaac's blood type, date of birth, weight, height, and all other medical information that would be useful. He went to check on Isaac before going back to Derek’s corner and made sure that everything was handled the best it could right now, taking the role of the Alpha without even realizing it. Within the next minutes, Stiles found himself the center of attention of another big reveal talk even if this one was more of a TED talk on vampires than anything else.
Scott was angry because Stiles had called his mom, but kept his mouth shut as Derek glared at him and turned back to let Stiles explain everything -again-.

“So. Everyone had seen Twilight, right? Well, those Volturi are based on the real ones, the ones that are apparently in our town. You can recognize them because of the teeth pattern, something only their branch had. It’s a weird genetic trait that is passed by the Sire to his fledging vampire and makes them even more dangerous due to the strength of their jaw. They never travel alone, often in groups of three or four, and there are always two guards minimum in those groups. They are extremely strong, and just as in the movies they need to be decapitated to die. So that’s what we will do.”

Just like the first time he explained the existence of a new species (new to the Pack, that it) an uproar followed his discourse. Everyone was talking, except Isaac who was mumbling sleepily while hooked to his transfusion. Scott decided to shout louder than the other to be sure to be heard -because it was a well-known fact that respect came from loud voices-.

“You can’t do that! You can’t kill them! That’s not what we do, I’m not allowing you to do it”
“They practically killed Isaac, and that was when they didn’t want him dead but just as a little plaything! They’re going to decimate the town! I wouldn’t be surprised if bodies started to fall! For all we know they already are!

Scott huffed and crossed his arms like Stiles was stupid, looking at him with an arrogant air that made the Kitsune’s instincts blare bright and his fangs dropped slightly. Not a second after Jacson asked if Stiles could see if his dad had any new mystery killing, Scott decided to answer for him, exposing the gap between Stiles and his father.

“There aren’t any new cases that could be attributed to the vampires, I would know. Noah said the last killing was made by a random killer, a 100% human one using a gun, nothing to worry about.”

Silence rang in the Loft, some of the Pack looking at Stiles while the other looked at Scott with big eyes, shocked to hear about this. They all knew that the two hadn’t been seeing eye to eye for a while, even less so after the Nogitsune, but this was another level altogether if the look on Stiles’s face was anything to go by. Quite frankly Jackson was considering letting him have a go at Scott for a moment, only to meet Lydia’s eyes and reigned it in, trying to think of good reason to, like Isaac still laying on the mount of pillows at their side.
Peter didn’t seem to have the same view on the matter since he was looking at Scott like he was going to eat him alive and gift his bones to Stiles afterward. He didn’t do it thankfully, letting Stiles reigned his emotion and put the conversation back on track while Derek moved to his side, glaring at Scott from behind Stiles’s shoulder, Peter at the other side.

“Right. Because you can’t use a gun if you’re a vampire, right? It wouldn’t be possible for them to, let’s say, kill him with a bullet and drink from the wound. Anyway, that’s not the problem. They will attack again, even more so if they don’t receive any response from the Pack, it would be like declaring the lands as a free hunting field. We don’t have a choice but to kill them.”

Going by the glare of the remaining Hale, Scott was smart enough to know that answering wouldn’t lead anywhere and decided to get up and leave after a last “I won’t let you do it.”, slamming the door on his way out and letting the Pack in Derek’s loft. They didn’t wait long before turning to Derek and starting to ask questions too. It was Isaac who spoke first, startling the Alpha.

“You’re going to go after them, right? Because I don’t think we should let them roam free, they’re too dangerous.”
“We’re not. If Stiles and Peter think that they are a threat then we follow them. Evaluating danger is what a Left-Hand does, and Peter was the best one in America, I trust him.”

As surprising as the statement was, it rang true and the whole Pack decided to act like this was normal, no need to put attention on this rare moment of emotional maturity from their Alpha. Even so, the statement served its purpose and everyone was now sure of where they were standing. Everyone except for Stiles who had been associated with the role of Left-Hand in Derek's statement without it being explicitly stated, they didn’t ever talk about it before either. He wanted to say something about this but knew better than that and settled for leaning a bit on Peter, feeding from the soft reassuring contact.
Lydia decided to intervene, successfully letting the moment go and bringing the problem of the vampires back. She was eying Stiles with an emotion he couldn’t decipher, but it was neither fear nor disgust so he would take it. The two wolves at his back were also helping quite a lot with making him feel like he belonged here which, in turn, made him more willing to answer questions on his change.

“I understand that we need to take them out but what about Stiles? Since he’s a Kitsune now, does that mean he will fight? Isn’t that risky to put him in the middle of a battle like this?”
“I trained, and if anything, putting me in the middle of a battlefield will only make me stronger. I won’t go crazy with lust if that's what you’re asking, my instinct makes me want to protect those that I consider mine whether it’s a shared feeling or not, and the Pack is mine.”

The possessive phrasing made most of the Pack smile, and even Derek’s lips twitched, and they nodded alongside the answer to show their approval. From Derek’s discussion with Peter, it was safe to say that Stiles could defend himself in a fight, and the whole Pack saw the state he left the witch a while back -even if they didn’t know it was his doing back then- and so, with the knowledge they had on them, they planned how to take care of the problem and then went after the vampires.
Between Isaac’s recount of his encounter and Peter’s knowledge of vampires, they were all ready to put them to sleep for the rest of times. As it was, there were three of them, like Stiles suspected, and funnily enough, they were all male with long hair, pale skin, and big floating cloaks resembling the Volturi from the dreadful movie about them. Like most of the big bad of the weeks, they were staying in the warehouse district, munching on innocent people they dragged to their new abode and kept there, cultivating an air of mystery and trashy glamour in their behavior -seriously, who wear cloaks inside and talk with a posh accent while staying in a rundown building without water?-.

Anyway. Here they were, surrounding the vampires’s hideout, waiting for them to come out after the howl Derek released to state his presence, when the three vampires sped off towards the Pack without even trying to discuss the matter. Sure it wasn’t especially surprising, but it was something he wanted to be noted since it proved that every threat couldn’t be resolved by talking. Seeing as one of the vampires had Jackson by the throat, another one went for Isaac -again- and the third was fighting with Derek, it was safe to say that no one would bat an eye, but he wanted to make an example out of the Volturi without being seen as a heartless killer but as a protector of the Pack, of the lands.
When Jackson let out a yelp, however, incapable of getting the vampire off of him even with Lydia’s help, Stiles's focus turned entirely on the threat. Within seconds, Stiles was on the vampire, claws slashing his throat from behind and pulling until his vertebral column was out in the open, only waiting to be reaped, which Stiles was trying to do. The vampire was fighting him off though, and Jackon was coughing blood on the floor, his own throat scratched to all hell as well as his face and his upper arms, Lydia applied the balm they came up with to stop the bleeding until they could have access to a clinic and blood to replace the wolf’s reserve. Peter was the one who helped him, coming from the other side of the body and encircling Stiles’s waist with one arm while the other grabbed the vampire’s shoulder and pulled his way while Stiles pulled the head towards himself, efficiently severing it from the vampire’s body. They were both splashed with a new spray of blood, staining their hands and faces, eyes locked with one another now that there wasn’t a head in the way anymore. The moment was charged with tension, Peter’s hand flexing on Stiles's hip while the younger man licked his lips, feeding from both sexual and violent lust. There wasn’t time to appreciate their victory though, because even though Isaac had overpowered the vampire after him thanks to Cora’s help, Derek was seemingly fighting their leader, and it was a bloody fight.
Every packmate who could still fight charged the vampire who was attacking Isaac, killing the threat before focusing on the leader currently fighting Derek. The man didn’t have time to understand what was happening, the entire Pack came to help their Alpha and tore him to shreds, Stiles incapacitating him thanks to all the power singing in his veins, exacerbated by the violence he was feeding on. He didn’t use his claws this time but went straight to the vampire’s wrist with his fangs, reaping his hand off and thus allowing Cora to come closer without risking coming in contact with the man’s poisonous claws. Derek was the one to give the final blow, ripping his head with his teeth before spitting blood on the floor, giving him a madman appearance.

Unfortunately, it was at this moment that Scott appeared, his eyes popping out of his sockets at the sight of the Pack, all of them covered in blood and viscera, reassembling the various vampires’s body parts to burn them like it was normal Thursday’s activity. The True Alpha looked horrified by the state of them and didn’t hesitate to let it know, with all his righteous anger and superior morals. As usual, when Scott decided to get all good and mighty, it was Stiles who responded, trying to calm him down by talking slowly, like he would do with a petulant child.

“What are you doing? What is that? Did you really kill the vampires? We said we wouldn’t do it!”
“No, Scott. You said you wouldn’t do it. We agreed that it was necessary.”
“No! You’re playing with my words Stiles! That’s not okay, killing is never okay! You’re just like them if you kill!”
“Just stop it, Scott! Not everything can be resolved with hugs! We needed to kill the vampires, there wasn’t any other solution! You saw Isaac after he ran into them!”

Scott was red in the face, obviously angry, and within a second to the next, he was charging at Stiles, roaring while doing it, and once he had him pinned to the ground he screamed at him with a voice full of venom while shaking him so hard his head was banging the ground.

“You think you can take decisions like this, uh? You think you can kill on my territory?! Well if we’re killing murderers then you should die too, right?! Because you’re just that, a murderer!”

Stiles was too stunned to react at first, but the blows at his head were too hard not to trigger his fight or flight response, making him lash out at Scott’s arms before someone wrenched him off of him. Taking big gulps of air and trying to stop the swimming of his vision, Stiles didn’t see immediately that it was Peter that just saved him, he only grasped that tidbit of information when he looked up and saw the wolf snarling in Scott’s face and instilling the fear of God inside his thick skull. Whatever he was saying to Scott was enough to make him shake, but going by the rest of the Pack’s faces, it wasn’t untrue. Even so, Derek came closer to Peter and put a hand on his shoulder, the two seemingly communicating with their eyes before Peter let go of Scott with disdain hetch on his face. Isaac and Cora were by Stiles’s side, helping him to get back on his feet and making sure he didn’t have a commotion.
The fear didn’t stop Scott from talking again, even if all Hales were looking at him with such bloodlust that they could easily rival Stiles when he was feeding, and the True Alpha decided to ug his grave even further.

“Just because you were human doesn’t mean that you’re above my rules. And now that you’re a supernatural creature then you must respect me at your Alpha. And as your Alpha, I’m warning you to get off my lands. I don’t want you here, you’re not welcome anymore. You have until next week to go.”

There was silence for a bit before Stiles started laughing uncontrollably, and even Jackson in his battered state snorted at that, while Lydia lifted a brow and muttered a “Really?” which seemed to anger Scott even more, making him repeat the last part of his sentence.

“I‘m not joking, Stiles. I want you out of Beacon Hills. I’m letting you a week and that’s it.”
“Oh, Scott. Who do you think you are?”
“I’m the Alpha! I’m the True Alpha of Beacon Hills, your Alpha!”
“But you’re not. Derek’s my Alpha. And Beacon Hills is Hale lands, not McCall lands. He’s the only one who can ban me from it.”

Scott had the guts to look betrayed at Stiles claiming Derek as his Alpha, and he must know that the other wolf wouldn’t ban Stiles because he didn’t even ask him to do so. Even so, he didn’t stop there, he then tried to push Stiles differently.

“Well then stay, but I don’t want any of my beta to ever talk to you again. And that’s an order.”

Once again there was a lull in the conversation -if you could even call it that- before someone cleared their throat to catch Scott’s attention. It was Isaac, sweet innocent Isaac, covered in blood and looking absolutely lost, giving his best puppy eyes at Scott.

“Who are you talking about? Because… None of us are your betas, we haven’t been for a while now. You know that, right?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Scott, we’ve been basically living at Derek’s place. He trained us, let us raid his food, use his house when Stiles helped with homework… We have bonds with him, he’s our Alpha.”
“What? No that’s not possible! And even if it was, you need to get rid of Stiles! He’s dangerous! He said he was feeding on violence and blood and sex! That’s not right, what if he uses this on you, uh?”
“Grew up Scott. Stilinski may be feeding on lust but I’m pretty sure he and Peter are fucking, so. And if you hadn’t realised, he saved the Pack today, thanks to the strength he got from violence. We’re not going to be mad for it.”
“Shut up Jackson, you don’t have anything to say, we all know what you think of violence and murder!”
“Enough.”

Derek’s voice cut through the incoming shouting match between Jackson and Scott, saving everybody’s eardrums as well as establishing his clear dominance on the other Alpha.

“You need to stop, Scott. I don’t know what you’re thinking but you’re in no position to make demands here. You’re so far from your wolf that you didn’t even feel the pack bonds breaking, and now you act like a dictator only because you’re an Alpha. You’re putting shame on all of us.”
“I am the one putting shame on us? You’re the one who associates with murderers!”
“Leave.”
“What? Derek you need-”
“I said leave, Scott. You keep disrespecting members of my Pack, so either you leave or I’ll fight you.”

The glare Scott gave Derek was strong, but not enough to keep his attention since the Alpha turned around quickly, going to help his injured betas and scenting Stiles while passing by. The Kitsune smiled at him before putting his weight on Peter who was by his side, supporting him both mentally and physically. After a round of questions and some calls, the betas went to Derek’s loft with him, inviting both Peter and himself to go but letting the idea drop when they saw the exchange of glances between them. Even while injured, some of the Pack members still had the energy to snicker and make kissing noises to them, making both older Hales sigh.
Peter and Stiles went to the wolf’s apartment, craving comfort and proximity, and relished in a moment of tenderness they hadn’t allowed themselves to have before. Here, safely tucked in the wolf’s den, both of them still covered in blood, they kissed for the first time. It was nothing more than a soft press of lips, but it was enough to convey all their emotions, to convey their desire to be more, to be one. With their desire, their lust for intimacy out in the open, the couple started undressing slowly, hands carefully removing each others’ clothes, roaming reverently on skin, following the soft curves of muscles, until they were both naked. They continued to exchange kisses while moving towards the shower, enjoying the intimacy of taking care of each other in such a way, chasing the rusty red with white foam, detangling hair with careful gestures, soothing shallow cuts with butter-like body cream… They were worshipping each other, the shower as their altar, the condensation as their incense, and their touch as silent prayers. It was an ethereal experience, a moment out of time where nothing matters but their love and so neither of them felt the need to talk before they were cocooned in blankets on the couch, Stiles playing with Peter’s hands, eyes half-lidded and an air of contentment radiating from him. His tone was warm and sleepy, making the older wolf feel blessed to witness it, to see him lower his defense and show an unguarded side of himself.

“If I had to leave Beacon Hills I’d have done it, you know? As long as you were with me, I’d have done it.”
“Is that so, sweetheart?”
“Yes. I’m happy to be part of Derek’s Pack but I’m yours before anything else.”
“And I yours. But you’re also an essential part of the new Hale Pack, you’re the Pack mom.”
“Hm, aren’t those supposed to be the Alpha’s partner? I’m the Left Hand's, so if anything I’m more of an aunt.”

Peter laughed at that, the little crease in Stiles’s eyebrow while he searched for a good denominative absolutely heart-melting, making him look all the cuter knowing how deadly he could be. Apparently, when he had fed enough, he turned into an adorable cuddle bug who couldn’t care less for lust, proving once more how different he was from incubi. If you asked the wolf, he would tell you that this was even better because it means that it wasn’t Stiles’s hunger that made him crawl under the blankets and tuck himself close, nor was it what made him confess the need to be in each other presence. As it was, the sleepy man dozing on his lap was here because of Peter and nothing else, as he was quick to remind him once more, as if sensing his partner’s thoughts.

“Do you think they would be fine if we eloped for a bit?”
“They should be able to survive, darling. What did you have in mind?”
“We should hunt the Argent. And Deucalion. And all the other threats to the Pack.”

The pick of lust in Peter made Stiles’s eyes pop open, even if he was already full, and he couldn’t help but hum and burry himself even closer to the wolf, rumbling a bit. Peter’s grip got tighter around Stiles and he didn’t hide the way this made him feel. Letting a bit of a growl slip in his voice.

“We’ll go anywhere you want, darling. I can’t think of a better way to spend my life than to accompany you on your hunts and protect the Pack at the same time.”
“Good, because I don’t think I’m going to let you go, Peter. I hope you know that.”
“Of course. I believe we already went over it when we found the book on your specie. What was it again? Ah, yes: Bake-Kitsune are experts in malice and treachery but once they find a mate, they are the most loyal creature of all folklore and their bewitchery will never be used against their chosen partner who will only know their devotion. This is the time-honored tradition of Japan concerning the bewitchery of Bake-Kitsune.”

A soft smile was exchanged between the two, Stiles humming at the quote, knowing full well that it was true and he would never hurt Peter. Fortunately, he also knew that Peter would never hurt him, having seen times and again the lengths he would go to only to assure Stiles’s happiness.
Maybe it wasn’t the sweetest relationship, maybe it started in blood, but it was their, and it was all Stiles had always wanted.