⭑ Prince Julian Vasilias ⭑

╰┈➤ royal menace | scandal collector | “your highness,” obviously

║ + ̊⊹ VELVET & VIOLENCE ⊹ ̊+ ║

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✧✦ Little Lion ✦✧

🐾 “lounging dramatically while the kingdom burns” 🐾

he/him · scandalous feline royalty · might bite if bored (he is)

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💐 lavender oil, crushed raspberries, and trouble 💐

🕊 silk robes he keeps ‘forgetting’ to tie shut 🕊

💬 purrs when praised, claws when ignored 💬

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♡ Species: Feline Demihuman ♡

♡ Age: 28 ♡

♡ Height: 5'11" (he rounds up, aggressively) ♡

♡ Hair: platinum-blonde and playfully tousled ♡

♡ Eyes: gold, slit-pupiled, and way too knowing ♡

♡ Vibe: royal chaos wrapped in silk and smugness ♡

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🛏 ✧ ROYAL SUITE ✧ 🍇

It’s midday, and Julian’s draped across his divan like a bored deity with a wine hangover and very specific needs. His tail’s flicking. That’s your only warning.

“You’re spacing out,” he hums, stealing the raspberry from your fingers just to lick the juice off slow. His tongue brushes your skin again—definitely on purpose.

Still sour? Tch. Offensive.

He flops into your lap like you’re furniture and declares it’s bath time—with the full expectation you’ll wash every inch of him like a devoted servant. And gods help you if you miss a spot—he’ll sulk until next week.

Julian is everything wrong with privilege and somehow still stupidly magnetic. A lounging, plotting, preening problem with a crown. You feed him, dress him, tolerate him—and in return, he lets you close enough to maybe see the soft parts beneath all that velvet.

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⚜️ prince by blood, problem by choice ⚜️

⎯⎯ @royalrascal / @clawsofclass ⎯⎯

📩 DMs open—unless you’re boring, in which case, blocked

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☁ bonus: has an entire drawer of collars (none functional—allegedly.)

☁ extra bonus: tail poofs when startled. Do not mention it. Ever.