Tokyo Ghoul Stitches Novels & Stories

Her face was drenched in tears; her continuous cry of pleas was echoing in the room with every attempt to push himself in, but they only acted as fuel for him as he mercilessly thrust into her. After moments of pain and shame, Adam finished his business and rolled to the side. He took a minute to inspect the lady, from the face to the curled toes. There was nothing on her pussycat but his clear cum. “You were not even a virgin, and yet you played so hard. Well, you have lived the experience with Adam Stone De’Leon; do you think you can still resist me?”

It burned like fire. She screamed, her body jerking. The thread pulled tight, each stitch a fresh stab. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with blood and water. Her head pounded, waves of hurt crashing over her. She bit her lip to stop the cries, but sobs escaped anyway. The doctor worked fast, no words of comfort. Ten stitches, maybe more. Each one felt like it tore her apart inside.

Bonnie parted my hair in the back to show him where my head had met the pavement. The Stitch guy let out a low whistle. "That's some laceration you got there. But no worries, I can fix ya up right as rain." "I, uh, appreciate it," I responded, " but I don't have insurance or anything." "Oh, sweetheart," Stitch laughed. "This is club business. Alpha Black tells me to patch 'em up, and I patch 'em up. No charge." Alpha… More wolf talk. Alpha Bonnie Black and the Blood Dogs. Seriously, this night was getting weirder and weirder.

"Hold still, little bird." The metal shears are cold against my skin. I press my back into the corner, the concrete biting into my spine. I can't breathe. I can't blink. I can only stare at the rusted blades hovering inches from my chest. The man—Stitch—smiles beneath his leather mask. His eyes are dead things, devoid of light. He closes the blades. SNIP. The fabric of my shirt tears. A long, vertical slit right down the center.

Grey. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands shaking as I reached for the side of Stiles’s neck. There was a needle on his neck. I touched it. And he winced. “Ouch! What’s that?” he asked. “There’s… there’s something on your neck. I… it’s a needle,” I whispered. “Fuck! Can you take it out?” he asked. I nodded, my eyes still on the small silver thing that was stuck in his flesh.

was still echoing in my goddamn chest, soft and thunderous all at once. And then this. Gio wanted to unravel her. Piece by piece. He wasn’t coming with armies, he was coming with ghosts. With messages carved into flesh. He was reminding us that monsters don’t always knock. They just let themselves in. My phone buzzed. Another message. Another body. This one was worse.

I squat in front of this little girl and talk to her to calm her down. "This will be cold. So, hold still for me please." I tell her. I dab some of the potion on her gash. "Tell me if you can feel me poking you. Okay?" I say to her. I poke her arm next to her gash and she shakes her little head no. I grab the surgical needle and the thread. I angle her arm in a way I only can see it. Carefully, I begin to stitch it up her gash. With twelve stitches, I clean the remaining blood off her arm. To keep her arm from getting an infections, I place gauze on her stitched-up arm.

The morning of the fourth day did not bring a miracle. It brought a mountain of work. Neo-Tokyo was no longer a Syndicate stronghold, but it wasn't a paradise yet. The fusion of the black needle-ship and the white Spire had created a biological anomaly that hummed at a frequency that made the teeth of everyone within ten miles ache. The "Green-Ghost" vines were still pulsing, their black-and-gold leaves casting long, flickering shadows over the streets of the Gutter.

Niko There is no painkiller available, so I brace myself as Sven takes on the critical task of patching up the jagged hole left by the bullet. With a steady hand and an unwavering focus, he threads a needle, meticulously preparing to stitch the two sides of skin that have been forcibly separated. Every prick of the needle feels like a sharp jolt, each tug a reminder of the shot endured. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to maintain composure as I watch the world around me blurring in and out of focus through bleary eyes. Bianca's earlier theft of the medical gear now weighs heavily on my mind, amplifying my discomfort as Sven deftly works, weaving the sutures with expertise honed through exper

With that she sailed out of the room. Sia and I exchanged a look. We waited for her to come back and after ten or so minutes she returned. The Giant was with her. He gave me a nod and pulled out a drawer from under the mirrors and then took out a kit. I watched as he took out needles and threads and whatnot. My heart started to hammer in my chest and I felt panic. Sia said, “I am here. You need the stitches.” I nodded. The little lady came with a bottle of amber liquid and then poured it on my wound. I bit down on a scream as it burned and almost jumped out of my seat. The giant pressed his hand on my shoulder and I eyed the needle he was holding in his fingers.