#penstagram

He’d only followed it to keep an eye on him. He knew the intricacies of what was and wasn’t allowed on Penstagram, but Hunter might not have. He found it ludicrous to suggest the kid would blurt Coven secrets on his account, but he was still paranoid. The boy thought sunlight was optional on functional growth, he didn’t know what else he’d assumed about life.

Much to his increasing migraine, most of Hunter’s posts were about Flapjack. His profile picture was of his own face, covering only one of his scars, in his Golden Guard attire.

Darius had nearly gotten a heart attack before he saw just how many people assumed Hunter was a fake account. Or some otherwise young child dressing up to pretend as the Golden Guard. He suspected the fact that most of Hunter’s posts were blurry disasters (that, to his credit, did exclude anything else that could be directly linked back to him or the Coven) did quite a bit to aid in this doubt.

No one would find his account on accident, it was far too obscure, and never tagged properly. Darius still monitored it, of course, but he was a little more at ease, figuring they were all in the clear. Even if he wanted to take the boy by the shoulders and plead him to be at least semi-functional with technology.

Then, as though Hunter had sensed Darius staring in dismay at his most recent failure of a post, the boy himself poked his head in through his office door.

“Uh, Darius?” Hunter asked, unsure, and Darius jerked his head up. 

He tried not to feel that old ping of nervousness when Hunter was slipping off his mask before he was fully in the office. Everyone knew Hunter’s face in the Coven, this was a normal, good thing. This was not something he had to be wary about others seeing.

“Don’t you have work to be doing?” Darius raised a brow, though he did set his scroll down. 

“Uh, well, y-yes, I was just doing that!” Hunter said quickly, and when Darius glanced down, he saw him holding his scroll up to his chest, walking over to his desk. “But then I started getting some messages, and I just wanted to…I wanted to see if these would be of interest?”

Darius, brow still raised, held out his hand. Hunter willingly handed it over without a second thought, Titan below this kid really needed to learn how to be a teenager, and Darius took a look at whatever he was talking about.

It was a DM, with what looked like a conversation between two hex-bots. Darius raised a brow, scrolling up—nope, that was Hunter’s texting. Good grief, it was atrocious.

The other one was a bot, at least. A very obvious one, in fact.

LIke.fabriCS? to muhc woRk ? CLICK HERE!

Hunter seemed to have been trying to respond to the bot, interrogating it about details. To which it fell apart into incoherent, insane texts.

“Hunter, this is a scam.” He deadpanned, though he supposed he could only be so exasperated. The kid had no phone, of course he didn’t know about people trying to hex scrolls.

“Gus said that, too.” Hunter frowned, ears pressing back. “He told me not to click a link?” He added, frowning, face scrunched up. 

“The underlined words. Of which he is correct.” Darius said, deciding not to ask who that was as he handed the phone back. “You’d get hexed.”

“Are you sure?” Hunter sounded truly disappointed, looking down at his scroll screen. “I thought more fabrics would be nice, ‘cause you have your own…”

“I have money to get more, just borrow mine.” Darius sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead. He tried not to feel too twisted up when Hunter looked at him with pure shock. “In the future, just don’t talk to any messages you get that aren’t from your friends.”

“But how could I get hexed through some…underlined words?” Hunter squinted at his scroll, holding his phone up to his face.

“It’s a link, Hunter.”

“Like a chain?”

“Titan’s sake,” Darius groaned, dropping his face into his hand, “it’s like teaching an old man.”

“I’m not old!”

(“You’re such an old man.” Darius snickered, looking from the crystal ball to the face smooshed up against it.

“Hey!” Jasper barked, finally tearing away from it to send a pouting glare, of which Darius could only barely restrain a laugh. “I’m not old! I’m practically your age!”

“Oh, so now you’re my age?” Darius scoffed, rolling his eyes and leaning back, smug. “Is that why you hate being called ‘sir?’”

“I’m as spry as a fox-spitter, I’ll have you know.” Jasper huffed, placing a proud hand to his chest. “These crystal thingies are just needlessly complicated.”

“It’s only kind-of new tech.”

“It’s confusing, is what it is. I’m convinced you’re just messing with me.”)

“Figure of speech,” Darius waved it off, sure his mouth was pulling at an uncomfortable angle, “just be more careful in the future. Titan’s sake, you don’t need to fret about getting your own things.” He rolled his eyes. “I have more than enough to share. I already gave you a scroll.”

“Well…yeah.” Hunter hunched his shoulders a tad, looking from his scroll to Darius. “I-I just…you already got me the scroll, so…you’ve gotten me enough.”

“I’ll say when I’ve gotten you enough. This is not even close to the limit.” Darius said, firmly, if only because it made him feel…odd. This didn’t sound the least bit like a spoiled brat. “Now, scurry back to that important work you were having with your friends on Penstagram.”

“Acquaintances.” Hunter reminded, more of a grumble, than anything, neatly tucking his scroll underneath his cloak and into a pocket.

“No, they’re not. Run along.” Darius waved his hand, going back to pretending he was working on his own papers. “I’m sure teenagers like you have much to talk about.”

“I’m…working on that.” Hunter hummed, frowned so thoughtfully like he was solving some secret that it had Darius snorting, watching him turn away and pull his mask back down again.

Hunter’s fingers lingered, he noticed, over the nose. The tips scraping down slightly, pausing as though thinking something over. It was so painfully familiar he half expected to see a tangle of uncombed, wild hair when Hunter turned back to him.

But it was only his normal, somewhat-combed hair. Of course it was.

“Um, thank you.” Hunter mumbled, nodding jerkily. “For-for the assistance.”

“Happy to help.” Darius said, and if anyone said he sounded softer, they were a liar. “You can continue checking-in sometime in the future.”

It sort of slipped out. Not that he didn’t mean it, but he hadn’t really thought about saying it. The words were simply out there before he could think much. Though, he couldn’t really find himself regretting it when Hunter perked up, just the tiniest bit more interested.

Perhaps that should’ve been harder to tell, with his movements so subtle and face covered. But Darius liked to think himself an expert in such mannerisms.

“Thank you.” Hunter repeated, sounding suspiciously genuine, bringing his hood up. His small strand of hair still hung free, uncovered as he pulled open Darius’s door.

It looked a lot like Jasper’s, he noticed. There was always that one strand of hair poking free, refusing to obey the chaos of the rest of his mane. Hanging right in front of his face, bothering him to hell and back.

Then, Hunter was out the door, and Darius was alone in his office.

He shook off the weight on his chest, though it lingered like fog, and reshuffled his papers.