Pumpkin Rabbit Fanart Novels & Stories

At the far end of the room, adjacent the entrance door was sitted Robert on this medieval seat of his, and drinking. Robert was a well built sturdy man, well cleaned shaven, he had a little mustache and beards on his face, fair, fair like a brownish yellow and tall. His beautiful brown eyes and face looked real innocent, contrasting exceptionally with his true identity, and contents of his heart.

“Do you think the nurses will get scared?” I laughed, ruffling his hair. “Oh, definitely. They won’t be expecting such a spooky ghost!” Andrew and I helped him carve a few pumpkins that morning, turning each one into a different character—some goofy, some scary, and one that Tristan declared was the "king pumpkin." We set them up along the windowsill, and Tristan giggled as he imagined each pumpkin “watching over” the hospital room.

he said, completely serious, "you must remove the brains." Abby giggled so hard she almost dropped the spoon she was holding. We each chose a pumpkin. William helped Abby draw a goofy face on hers—one big eye, one small eye, and a toothy grin. She insisted on scooping out the insides herself, and by the end, there were pumpkin seeds in her hair and strings of pulp stuck to her cheeks. I carved a classic triangle-eyes, triangle-nose design—simple, but not bad considering how long it had been.

Even on the big road out of the town centre, there are also lots and lots of big rabbits around. He walked to find his friend, the Lady Bunny. She was fluffy and elegant. She was so calm. She was… The nearest blue rabbit caught his attention. The rabbit was just sitting calmly, being petted by the driver, it seems. The eyes were calm, but the fur looked a bit dirty on the paws… Could it be Artie?

I stared at my phone, and the picture of Connor and I kissing in my car before we left to go nap at his house. Someone had taken the picture through one of the classroom windows by the looks of it. There was only a single caption over the photo. Guess who's the ultimate fuckboy? "What the hell is this, why would someone do that?" Connor shrugged towards me, a bewildered look on his face. "I know right, they took away the snapchat hotdog filter, and now this!?"

My mind buzzed, refusing to process any of it. The pumpkin tattoo in the photo was identical to the one on my wrist. I’d gotten it with my best friend, Lily Green. We both loved a niche gothic animation—the ever-grinning pumpkin figure in it had become our symbol of friendship. Lily had said, “Sophie, look at him. No matter how bad things get, he’s always smiling. We should be like that too.” And now, that tattoo had become evidence against me.

Beside him were lemon trees that looked like diseased broccoli. Gabby stood wearing a crown larger than her entire body. Al stood on the other side with his whale shark, shaped like a blue potato courtesy of my artistic crimes. I moved. Rafael’s hand was faster. His fingers caught one edge of the paper just as I grabbed the other. The drawing stopped between us. “Let go,” I said. His eyes dropped to the picture. “Rafa Lemon,” he read. “Children spell all kinds of things. Last week they wrote fuck on a birthday card because they thought it said duck.”

Only when Ryder allowed her to punch Midnight if he tried something funny (even though she was pretty sure such a thing wouldn't happen for some unknown reason) did Jasmine agree. By the time the sky got dark and the stars sprinkled all over it, Ryder had finished making a white rabbit for Jasmine and a black wolf for Remy. The stuffed animals weren't top-notch. They were simple designs, just a big head with two large eyes and a small body, but this only made the stuffed animals look cuter.

Sean knocked at the door only to get electrocuted. “Fuck,” he hissed, caught between shock and the lingering jolt of the current. The door opened a moment later. He frowned, finding no one on the other side. “Who are you?” a cartoonish voice rang in his ear, but there was no one. He exchanged a confused glance with Martin. “Down,” the voice said. Sean glanced down and stared in surprise. A tiny rabbit stood there, paws on hips, shooting him the fiercest glare a bunny could muster.

This isn’t what I expected at all. It is not some cute cartoon bunny or Easter decoration. This thing is dark, almost menacing. I study it for a long moment, taking in every detail. When it dawns on me that this mountain of a man chose to permanently ink a bunny on his back. Well, it's a terrifying bunny but still a bunny. I giggle. Before I know it, I’m doubled over, laughing so hard I have to wrap my arms around my stomach. Tears are streaming down my face, and I can’t stop. Every time I try to catch my breath, the image of Knox’s demon rabbit sends me into another fit.