#mister scratch

[dodshiwaa]

my little babygirl i love her

AND THIS ONES AUGHHH IM IN LOVE maybe will draw ponies moreeee

[starchaser45]

Spencer staying with Emily instead of going after mister scratch even though he was adamant to kill him is the biggest indicator that he didn't completely lose himself in prison that even after he had the worst 3 months of his life to the point of almost losing his mind he still couldn't leave Emily while she's scared ( also Emily thinking of Spencer's mental health after the experience she just went through was also amazing 😭) 😭😭😭😭

[fozzieosbourne]

Alan Wake but as Poorly Written Two Sentence Horror Stories

[laughing-gunslinger]

Going to be going through AWAN with the bestie soon so I had to make this.

[kawaiifantasma]

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A post shared by angel/axel 🦷🩸 (@romaniangothic)

based on the painting 'Self-portrait with death playing the fiddle' by Arnold Böcklin

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

How successful would Mr. Scratch…

…be if they decided to become a pro-wrestler?

Yes on the microphone skills / Yes on the wrestling skills

Yes on the microphone skills / No on the wrestling skills

No on the microphone skills / Yes on the wrestling skills

No on the microphone skills / No on the wrestling skills

Voting ended onApr 28, 2025

Propaganda for the mic skills:

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/

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Would you like to submit a character? Click this link if you do!

[koskela-knights]

Learn the Alphabet with Alan Wake 2

A is for Alan

(video & audio clips from: Champions of Light, DarthTemoc, Metal Crusher, GameSpot on YouTube & Insta user jckspdcy)

[tumfullofblue]

can u write something with aw2 mr scratch where he uses puppy as a petname pretty please? (thank u for the headcanons. u blessed me. <3

Mama Bear just about recently found out that she has a thing for puppy play so. Almost perfect time, nonnie.

Here's a small NSFT thingy with AW2 very feral and vocal Scratch for your soul. TW for slight dub-con, cause it's Scratch, yall.

You knew you were in deep fucking trouble when the moment you saw him your heart skipped a beat. Not because you were scared (which, to some extent, you were), but because you were excited – in that primal, dangerous way that made rabbits roll over and show their bellies to a predator. Though the being which chased you and finally caught you didn’t think of you as bunny. He saw you as almost equal. Something that could belong not with him – but under him, proven, again and again that he was better, he was stronger, he was the superior.

You were in trouble indeed.

You’ve put up a good fight, or so you thought. Scratching, kicking, cursing at him, but the more you thought, the longer you pretended that you didn’t want this – the larger that feral grin on his shadow covered face grew. Finally, he had enough, yanking your head back and plunging himself to bite into your throat, making your pathetic whimper into a full on groan of pain and pleasure.

“Stop squirming, puppy,” he growled, licking away the blood that poured from a bite – a bite that should’ve killed you, a bite that should’ve hurt more, but he wouldn’t allow you to die – not from his hand or maws anyway. And the way he called you, ‘puppy’, told you everything that you needed to know of your position right now.

Under him you shiver and your body betrays you.

He’s obsessed with your reaction, the grin growing bigger as if splitting his face in half. His hands ding into your hips, dragging you back to between his legs.

"Look at you—so eager, so desperate. Pathetic little thing."

He is not gentle. He doesn’t know how and he cares so little for you that he doesn’t check if you are wet or stretched enough for his cock when he slams into you. And you moan in any case because fuck, this monster of a man is packed. You bite into your lip, tasting your own blood while he sets up a quick, punishing pace.

"Aw, does puppy like that? Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to. Bet you’d bark if I gave you the order. Go ahead, mutt. Prove me wrong.”

The filthy sounds of your wetness and skin on skin slapping made your ears ring. You tried to swallow your moans back – you weren’t some puppy, let alone a mutt, but the way he was handling you, like you were nothing to him, made you clench around his fat cock even more.

"Think Alan ever made you feel like this? Nah. He’s too nice. He’s too good. He doesn’t know shit on how to fuck a bitch in heat like you are,” he purred with a sneer, throwing the writer’s name in your face, knowing how you’d react to even a mention of him.

“T-too much… p-please…” you whimpered, feeling your inner walls bruised by the sheer size of him. Scratch stopped and for a second you dared to hope that he was going to show you the tiny bit of mercy you deserved – but oh, no, puppy, he just flipped you on your knees, grabbed a fistful of your hair and started fucking you again, rougher this time, making you almost drool.

“I don’t think so, puppy,” he yanked your head back, teeth grazing the pulse point of your neck. "This is what you’re made for, isn’t it? Taking it like a good dog?" He’s relentless—no gentleness, just possession. Every thrust is a reminder: You are his. His to ruin, his to use. He laughed and laughed and howled, low and dark.

"Yeah, that’s it. Squeeze me like you’re scared I’ll leave you empty. But I won’t puppy."

He held you still, hips pressed against his as you could physically feel yourself accepting every drop he poured into your dripping cunt.

“You belong to me, now.”