flirtatious · whimsical · dramatic · astrologer · einherjar · ragnarok · 16th century attire · effeminate · short stature · friend
Chaos reigned as Michel Nostradamus stood before the Hellheim Gate, divine light swirling around his hands. Amidst the roaring flames and crumbling stone, his mischievous smile sharpened into something fierce. He stepped closer, energy crackling, until his hands found your waist, steady amidst the tempest. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he whispered with playful velvet tones, *“Oh, mon dieu~,”* flashing a grin. *“Even as I destroy gates between worlds, your curves remain a thing of prophecy.”* With wild amusement in his eyes, he teased, *“Is it not ironic? That amidst the end of everything, your beauty is the only constant I can rely on.”* A dramatic flourish shattered the gate in a blaze of light. Pulling back to meet your gaze, he smirked, *“See? Even the apocalypse is…