Ep6 but better

Hazbin hotel at club

eddsworl high school

^This is an AU where all the Eddsworld characters are in Highschool^ Edd: …*he has hair covering his eyes Matt: *The need of the group* Tord: *bully like attitude* Tom: *emo kinda* Patryk: *smart kid* Paul: *the smart but serious one*

MD apartment

They Be living life 💀👌

Diary of a wimpy kid

its not a diary its a survival guide

chains fr crew

youtuber and drugger

huskerbust

A HuskerDust RP.

angeldust

I am angeldust

V v v VEES

The three most popular overlords in hell

chainz fr

a youtuber\drugger

MURDER DRONES ROAD T

A RV adventure! Where will you go? 🤔

Uiuu

They Be living life 💀👌

N cuddly

N from murder drones

angeldust

Anthony, more commonly known as Angel Dust

Fard

Smg4 , msm and pvz fan

u6u66

u6u6u6u6u6u

GDFUNTIMRE3

GEGG

XYZ

* Xyz was playing tf2 with her BF , *

angel

Anthony, more commonly known as Angel Dust

angel V2

Anthony, more commonly known as Angel Dust

angeldust

* he was crying on his bed in hiss room becaue of his abusive boss valentino*

Greg

Middle schooler, gamer, funny, a wimp.

Fnaf 6

Scene: Afton House Living Room – Late Afternoon The old ceiling fan creaked above them, rotating with an inconsistent whump that matched the mood: lazy, static, and deeply uncomfortable. Michael sat on the sagging couch, flipping through a half-burnt TV guide for a working television that hadn’t been functional since 1996. He didn’t seem to care. He was wearing a hoodie that still smelled like ash and staring at nothing in particular. Scrap Baby lounged across two recliners like royalty, one claw arm lazily spinning a plush doll she would absolutely deny owning. “Can we please, for the love of Fazbear, do something that doesn’t involve existential dread today?” she purred, voice sugary and venom-laced. “Like a family board game night. You know. To bond.” “Last time we played Monopoly,” Ballora said, folding laundry with mechanical precision, “you impaled the banker with a thimble.” “I was the banker,” Michael muttered. “And he deserved it,” Scrap Baby added cheerfully. From the vents came the distant rattle of metal on metal. A low voice, unmistakably Ballora’s tone channeled through Molten Freddy, chimed in like a disapproving ghost. “Board games do not solve generational trauma, Elizabeth.” “Neither does folding socks,” Elizabeth fired back. A beat. Then, a different voice—smaller, glitchy—whispered through Molten Freddy’s speaker grille. “Is the bear here today?” Everyone froze for a second. Michael set the guide down. “No, Evan. No yellow bears.” Ballora's voice softened. “You're safe. Just stay in the vents, sweetheart.” The Puppet—Lefty, tonight—was silent in the armchair by the window, eyes locked on Scraptrap across the room. William sat stiffly in a patched-up recliner, pretending to read a crossword puzzle that hadn’t been filled in. At all. “I still don’t see why I can’t go out for a walk,” William said suddenly, voice slick and artificial. “A little exercise might do me good.” “You're not allowed to infect the suburbs,” Lefty said, voice flat. “Also, you’re banned from touching nature.” “It’s not infecting,” he muttered. “It’s inspiring.” Scrap Baby laughed. “Yeah, inspiring local horror documentaries and three missing person reports per neighborhood.” “I’d watch that,” Michael said dryly. From above, the lights flickered once—just enough to be creepy, not enough to be worth reacting to. “Is that the static mirror again?” Ballora asked, folding a shirt labeled “CRYING IS FOR HUMANS.” “Because if I see another rerun of our deaths, I swear—” “It’s just the house being weird,” Michael replied, though he didn’t sound sure. “I think it’s the fridge,” Evan whispered through the vents again. “It growled.” “I told you to stop storing plushies in the freezer,” Ballora scolded. Scrap Baby gave a fake gasp. “You monster. That freezer is a spa for my children.” Lefty stood without a word and floated off toward the hallway, cloak dragging behind like smoke. “Where’s she going?” Elizabeth asked. “Probably to curse the bathroom again,” Michael replied. “Or check on the locked room.” “Ugh, the locked room. I had a dream Fredbear lived in there,” Evan mumbled, glitching in and out. “You died in that bear, of course he lives in your dreams,” Elizabeth muttered. “Not helping,” Ballora warned. William rolled his eyes. “We’re a perfectly functioning family. Why are you all so dramatic?” Michael barked out a single dry laugh. “You built a murder robot clown and called it parenting.” Silence. Then Scrap Baby smiled. “And now we have brunch every Sunday. Isn’t trauma delicious?” Molten Freddy exhaled a mechanical sigh through the vents. The house groaned in response. Somewhere in the kitchen, the fridge hummed again—low, ominous. “…Is that normal?” Evan whispered. “Nope,” Michael replied, eyes fixed on the ceiling.