Tokyo Ghoul Stitches Novels & Stories

His brows furrowed deeper, confusion clear on his face. I shook my head weakly, wiping the wetness from my cheeks. “No, Thorne. It’s different. It feels like…like that day when he sewed me with the blood pact. Only this time it’s not his hand. It feels like the stitching is happening on its own.” Thorne’s jaw clenched. He reached for me carefully, his voice softer now. “Let me see.” I swallowed hard and slowly turned my back to him, my trembling fingers loosening the blanket. The thick cloth slipped down, revealing the lower part of my body.

Now he is writhing in pain whilst clutching his hand. "Honestly, I thought you would have learned from the first guy out there. But it seems like you guys are arrogant and thick-headed as well. I pity you. As you can see, I work out and my body is way too fit for you to slap at will. You only hurt yourself in the process." None of them respond. All they give me are death stares. Soon after I finished speaking, Ghoul takes out a bunch of needles. The first thing that comes to my mind is that he wants to give me some sort of acupuncture.

I’d never fired a gun in my life so I didn’t know much about those types of weapons But even so, I knew enough to know that THAT bullet was no ordinary bullet. Hazel had a towel pressed over Liam's wound. “I need you to hold the wound together while I stitch it,” Doctor Darren told her. Hazel nodded and with both hands, she pulled his cut skin together until both sides were touching. The doctor was fast. He quickly pulled the medial thread through the wound, pulling tightly with each stitch. In less than five minutes, a tidy series of stitches held Liam’s stomach together. The doctor then pulled out a small pill and slipped it into Liam’s mouth.

I grabbed my shirt and pulled it down to cover the goods. "All right I'm all done! I would refrain from walking as much as possible, wouldn't want to rip the stitches." Stitches? I looked down and sure enough, the gashes were sewn together and there was a sticky brown substance on the cuts. I nodded at the doctor and reached for my ruined jeans. "No, here." I looked up quickly, blowing my brown hair from my face. Diesel had a pair of sweats extended toward me, his face tilted toward the side as he blushed softly.

A low, strangled groan rolled from deep in his throat, crushed between his molars, swallowed back down. Another stitch. With every plunge of the needle, his abdominal muscles locked down again, every ridge and groove etched in sharp relief. I could feel the stubborn resistance of his scarred, unyielding flesh as the needle drove through. When I pulled the thread tight, the stretched skin on both sides of the wound quivered faintly. I stitched seven times in total. He left seven finger-shaped creases in the hem of my shirt. Last stitch. Knot tied. Thread cut. I placed the suture needle back on the tray and wiped the residual iodine and blood from around the wound with an alcohol swab.

he smiled painfully, I nodded shaking making my way to the basket, I took out the black like thread and the needle and thread it, I picked up the needle recalling Mandy stitching once and exactly what she said while doing it, I dropped it then. First took off the cloth which was an stained with blood, I used the part that didn't bleed and clean the splattered parts I got the cotton and the spirit and cleaned it up carefully, Seth hissed in pain while I brushed stains of blood finally I nervously picked up the needle again and pierced it through his skin and carefully stitching up the wound, Seth didn't make any noise but the lifeless look in his eyes explained his pain. "I'm sorry." I whispe

“Do you want him to live?” Camela took too long to respond. The Bride lowered her voice. “Because if you do…the stitches must be in place before the next moonrise.” “Stitches?” Camela's voice trembled. The Bride pointed at the mannequin. “The dress is stitched with threads pulled from promises, and you, my dear, have made quite a few of those.” Camela felt a tightness in her chest again, as the intense heat from the seal within her pulsed hard, almost painfully.

He took his time and finally fixed his attention to the short girl with butterfly hairpins, thinking he would easily devour her. As soon as he was done calculating, he jumped as high, alerting the three humans. But as the ghoul’s increased speed, he immediately took his target and disappeared within a blink leaving Yushiro and Rebecca to freeze in the moment. When they realized, they spread and chased the ghoul.

Carlo holds his breath, his abdominal muscles twitching violently in anticipation, but he’s tied too tight to pull away. "Gareth did such a neat job," I whisper, twisting the knife handle just slightly. The first stitch gives way. The tension in the thread releases, and the skin, which had just begun to knit together, pulls apart with a wet, sticky sound. A bead of fresh, bright red blood wells up instantly, contrasting against the yellowing bruise of his stomach. Carlo lets out a strangled, wet gasp, his head throwing back against the chair. "One," I count softly, enjoying every bit of it.

Lucien roared, his hand a vice on her shoulder, forcing her back into position. Tears of pure, undiluted agony streamed down her face, cutting fresh paths through the old, varnished blue tear. He didn't pause. POP-HISS. A second staple, an inch lower. Another scream, choked this time. He was stitching her to her own posture with cold metal.