Ear Bleeding After Piercing Novels & Stories

The boy with the shaggy blonde hair, and the kid with the crooked glasses both had bite wounds to their necks, marks that would scar given the boys were newly shifted. The one that had a silver hoop in his left ear had a bite mark on his arm and a face full of scratches that were slowly beginning to heal. Most of his blood loss came from his ear, where I’d torn the earring and part of his lobe, clean off his body. Out of the last two, one was curled into a fetal position, a growing patch of blood on the crotch of his jeans. The last was face down, whimpering in a pool of his own blood.

Sure it will. It’s slow motion as Eden and I watch it happen. The needle lining up. The sharp stab as the woman jabs the needle through the cartilage of her nostril. I cringe, Lyra cringes or should I say yelps with an aggressive bout of swear words following. But once it’s done, Lyra pats away her tear streaks that she claims is just from her eyes watering before flashing us a huge smile and a full view of the dainty ring that loops around the edge of her nose.

Therefore, holding the earrings in the palm of one’s hand probably wouldn’t produce very authentic results. Without hesitating, I grabbed the letter opener that was sitting on the conference table and pricked my finger, wincing from the brief sting of pain. A bead of blood formed a moment later with a little pressure, and I carefully dropped it onto one earring, then another. Andrei and I stared at the earrings, which were now wet and sticky with blood. Nothing happened. Andrei quirked a brow at me. “Are they supposed to do something special, or…?”

The sudden ear piercing sound flinched me to which I instantly jumped back covering my ears not knowing what just happened. As I slightly lifted my head up, I saw nothing, but him seethe in anger as he had his clenching fist banged on his glass table smashing the surface glass into a number of pieces around him... He stood up from the chair pushing it back whilst he was giving his best look of death at me. A deep pang of worry which had hidden somewhere inside my broken heart crept into me when the stream of blood started running down the knuckles of his right arm. My eyes went wide in disbelief.... I could not resist myself from jerking my body front seeing him bleeding....

My reflection stared back at me with silent accusation, and suddenly, nothing made sense. Snatching a washcloth, I begin scrubbing my face furiously. Despite how bad it looks, there are no bruises, no cuts, no swelling. “It’s probably just another nosebleed,” I mumble. They’ve been happening more and more often lately, especially after seeing him. Something always worsens after we cross paths—migraines, bleeding, something. I blink, leaning in closer to inspect the reflection. My stomach twists when I spot the whites of my eyes—no longer white, but clouded with a deep red hue. “What on earth?” I whisper, horrified.

Blood. "Blake, stop. You are hurting yourself." Nero's quiet words pierced the haze that clouded my senses as I realized I was bleeding heavily from my nose and out my ears like waterfalls. My eyes widened, my heart dropping. "Blake, stop!! I am begging you!!" He sounded almost hysterical now, desperation clawing at his throat with the force of a viper. "You are only going to hurt yourself further."

AURORA Expecting red blood to drop, my eyes widened when I saw tiny blue liquid dropping into his mouth. I withdrew my hands immediately, opening my palms only to find that the cut had closed up but the remnants of the blue blood were still on it. I looked at my father and he gave me an apologetic look. What's going on?

The piercings were still quite sensitive. Michael had turned out to be quite patient when it came to my piercings. He had chosen them and asked for my approval. Rose-gold coloured, my favourite colour, for all three piercings. Up top he eyed the simple nipple barbells, which were vertically pierced, and for down there, a ring with a stone on it. The grin he bore afterwards as he checked them out was almost picture worthy. But then his face grew worried. "That's ... quite red and swollen." He sounded unsure and moved up to my face to see if I was alright.

I reached up to rub the back of my neck and my hand came away with something on it. I looked at my fingers. Then I stood and went to the bathroom and looked at the mirror and the mirror showed me what my shirt had already been showing me without my noticing, the dark staining at the collar that had the specific colour of something that had been coming from somewhere on my face. I tilted my head back slightly and the nosebleed that had apparently been running for some time made itself fully known.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​