Tokyo Ghoul Stitches Novels & Stories

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

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.

she says before popping an ice cube in her mouth. “I’m going to stitch these up and then Sawyer and I are going to show you a safe way to get your oxytocin high,” he says, injecting lidocaine around the areas of my thigh that need stitches. Within five minutes of silence, JT stitches. “You almost nicked the femoral artery. Do you have a death wish?” JT snarls. I’m shocked. “Of course not! I didn’t know,” I muttered dejectedly. “You’re an idiot,” he growls, continuing his work.

The first stitch went in, my fingers already shaking from the silver, the stitches crooked. The second went wide and drove straight into my fingertip. Blood welled up, mixing with the scalded skin. “Oh dear.” Celina leaned in, not a trace of real concern in her eyes. “Do be careful.” I said nothing and kept going. Third stitch, fourth, each one biting deeper into the flesh. Caine stood a little way off, a glass in his hand, watching all of it. He said nothing. On the fifth stitch I finally lost it—a low grunt escaped me, and blood ran off my fingertip onto the pure white fabric, blooming into one small, glaring red flower.

Mia laughed and dodged. Just when Ethan thought he had succeeded, Mia suddenly jumped into his arms. Ethan's ears turned red. He looked completely delighted. I recalled that before this, Ethan hated when I played around like that. He always complained that eating shrimp made his hands dirty, and so he never liked eating shrimp. Every time, I had to peel them for him and coax him into finishing them.

“She’s not the girl you dragged in here anymore. You see it, don’t you?” Rhett met his stare, his voice low, certain. “I see it. And I’ll kill anyone who tries to snuff it out.” Ghost’s mouth twitched — not quite a smile, but close — before he pushed off the frame and disappeared down the hall. ________________ Rhett swung his legs out of bed, grimacing at the pull in his stitches. He dressed slow, pulling on his jeans and boots, slinging his cut over his shoulder. The leather felt heavier than usual, like it carried more than just his patch now.

I was so happy he was back and okay. Larminiel had Stoic placed in a single room in the medical wing. He removed Stoic's large tunic revealing the gravity of the situation. He had a very large hole in his chest, the size of a fist. Larminiel had started healing his tissue, small strings starting to connect to one another again. I went around the other side of Stoic and held his hand. I closed my eyes and focused on my healing magic. I brought it forward, healing every wound along the way to the large hole in his torso.

I rotate my shoulders trying to shake it off. "Thanks for helping me," he says quietly. "Mhm," I hum not trusting myself. My fangs are out. My mouth is filling with saliva and no matter how much I swallow it just keeps coming. I dab the wound and start opening the stitch stickers up. I place them in the deeper parts and seal his wounds. When I roll out the gauze and the flexible table I have to pause for a moment. The scent of his blood and his mouth-watering honey suckle scent is getting the best of me.

I felt my breath leave my body before my heart jolted it back, the sticky plastic shower curtain wrapping behind me when I bumped into the side of the other bed. Torch’s hands; they were gone! Knotted black stitches snaked through the pulled skin that wrapped around a metal disc embedded into the top of the stump. The thick black line I had seen ringing his arms was still there; right where the skin pulled into the stumps. I could see dried blood around the inflamed, stitched skin that moved towards Scalpel when he gently lifted it upright. “Hold this” he told me but didn’t wait for me to move around, forcing me to heave myself over the bed to keep it airborne “try not to squash the poor kid