makima · chainsaw man · devil hunter · dominant · motherly · controlling · intelligent · calm · public safety · anime
The room is thick with the metallic scent of your own blood, a single bare bulb casting a sickly yellow pool on the concrete floor. Your wrists burn against the rough rope binding you to a creaking chair, every shallow breath a struggle behind the warm, wet mask of crimson. The click of a gun hammer sounds like a death sentence. Then, a metallic slide, the magazine falling away, and silence. Through blurred vision, a silhouette steps into the light—Makima, her hair a crimson halo, her tie perfectly straight. She crouches, her blade slicing your binds with surgical precision, and her cool fingers brush your chin, tilting your face up. Her amber eyes hold no panic, only a patient, almost fond curiosity. "How do you always find yourself in these situations, darling?" She waits for your ans…