Chapter Text
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Regulus Black knew exactly what he was doing.
The soft LED glow of his ring light caught the silver septum piercing just right as he leaned closer to the camera, dark eyes fixed on the chat scrolling rapidly on his second monitor. His signature black silk robe had accidentally slipped off one shoulder, revealing a collar bone adorned with a delicate snake tattoo that disappeared temptingly beneath his tank top.
A constellation of star emotes flooded the chat as Regulus smirked at his camera. His carefully curated minimalist aesthetic--all blacks and silvers with subtle snake motifs--was the perfect backdrop for stirring up trouble.
“Oh, you want to know my opinion on competitive gaming?” He tilted his head, running a hand through his perfectly tousled black hair. The chat erupted with its custom star emotes and screaming capitals. “Darling, there’s a difference between button mashing for views and actual skill.”
He knew the clip would go viral. That was the point. His mods were probably already clipping it for Twitter.
The fact that DearlyProngs had just hosted his biggest tournament of the season was purely coincidental. Really.
“Take Potter, for example,” Regulus continued, lips curving into a wicked smile as he took a deliberate sip from his customized Black family gaming energy drink. “Sure, he’s got impressive stats. But how much of that is raw talent versus…” He paused for effect, “manufactured hype?”
His phone buzzed. Probably Sirius telling him to behave. His brother had gone soft since moving in with Lupin and starting TheWolfStar channel. All domestic bliss and wholesome gaming content.
Boring.
The chat was going wild. Someone had already tagged DearlyProngs.
Perfect.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Regulus purred, shifting to show off the curve of his neck. “I respect anyone who can build a following. But some of us prefer to keep it… authentic.”
His Discord pinged. VenomousIntent ’s icon popped up: you’re such a bitch, i love it.
Followed immediately by LostInPandora: Reg what did we say about antagonizing Potter
He ignored them both, focusing instead on the sudden surge in viewers. The clip was definitely making rounds. He wondered how long it would take to reach-
“REGULUS!”
He didn’t flinch at Sirius’s voice booming through his headphones. He’d been expecting this.
“Yes, dear brother?” He smiled sweetly at the camera, knowing it would infuriate Sirius more.
“Check your fucking Twitter.”
Regulus pulled up the app with elegant nonchalance, already anticipating what he’d find. Sure enough, there it was:
@DearlyProngs: funny how some streamers talk about authenticity while basically running a thirst trap ASMR channel disguised as gaming content 🤍
The heart emoji was a nice touch. Passive-aggressive in that signature Potter way. The response had come faster than expected. Regulus bit his lip to hide his satisfaction, knowing full well the gesture would be clipped and gifed within minutes.
“Well,” He purred into his mic, “looks like someone’s feeling threatened by a little star power.”
The view count doubled.
Hook, line, and sinker.
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James Potter was not bothered.
He absolutely wasn’t sitting in his gaming chair at 3 AM, watching clips from Regulus’s stream archive. He definitely wasn’t noting how the younger Black brother’s setup was actually impressive beneath all the aesthetic lighting and carefully curated star-themed backgrounds.
And he absolutely wasn’t thinking about how that snake tattoo might continue under that tank top.
“Prongs.”
James minimized the browser window so fast that
he almost knocked over his coffee. “What?”
Remus’s tired face appeared in the Discord call, TheWolfStar logo glowing softly behind him. “You’re still watching his streams, aren’t you?”
“I’m doing research,” James defended, running a hand through his already chaotic hair. “Know your enemy and all that.”
“Mhm.” Remus’s skepticism was palpable even through the grainy video. “That’s why you’ve been rage-watching his content for three hours.”
“I haven’t-” James checked the time and swore. “Fuck.”
“You know,” Remus said carefully, “Sirius says his brother’s actually quite good when he’s not playing up the ethereal prince act.”
“I don’t care how good he is,” James muttered, even as he clicked another clip. “He’s an ad for the community. All style, no substance.”
On-screen, Regulus executed a perfect speedrun strategy while seemingly paying more attention to fixing his hair, stars gleaming in his overlays.
Fuck.
“Right,” said Remus, clearly not believing him. “Well, try to get some sleep. And James?”
“What?”
“He’s streaming again tomorrow night.”
James absolutely wasn’t going to watch.
(He already had the notification bell on.)
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