#darpunk

[sybilius]

One-page comic adaptation of from the mountaintop i took down the sun, Chapter 1, by the illustrious @secretcatboi! Original text (with some additional context)

Darby flicks his fingers, heedless of the glass of water at his elbow, and clicks his tongue. "Like a light switch. Everything went dark. I thought I was dead. When I woke up, I couldn't feel anything."

 "Anything?" Punk asks, reaches over and pulls the glass away from him, and the coffee cup for good measure. He's noticed Darby doesn't think about these things, and while Punk wouldn't say he's necessarily      afraid     of knocking over a glass, he imagines the same sentiment drives both blind terror and mild public shame, so it makes sense in a way that that wouldn't ping Darby's register. "Thought it was just fear."

 Darby drags his glass back and sneers at Punk about it, but slides it somewhere it won't get knocked over, then shrugs and takes a bite of his burger, chewing while he stares out the window.

 Punk had ended up driving them to a diner after the show, both of them too wired to head back to the hotel, too tired to get a head start towards home, and definitely uninterested in going to a bar to hang out and watch their coworkers get drunk and Hangman get melancholy. It was the kind of middle-of-nowhere place where you could ask hard questions, or give hard answers, a place that had the vague familiarity of home but that could be left behind if needed.

 "I think," Darby says after he's finished his burger, "that fear is… the root of everything. And when you can't feel it, it makes everything else further away. You have to reach to feel, and I didn't know how to do that. So yeah. I didn't feel anything."

 "And now?"

 Darby looks at him with those clear eyes. "You tell me."

 Punk huffs. "I'm not a fan of      knowing     like that."

 "Yeah." Punk isn't sure what the quirk of Darby's mouth indicates - approval, maybe disappointment. He knows he could      know    that too, but that's the point - it's not on him to find out. There's value in staying dark on some things

[youngbuckisms]

I know your into Hookhausen and mjf right now but last night watching Darby be all dangerous made me miss when you would write daddy punk taking care of him

Daddy Punk caring for Darby; drabble

Just for you, anon 😘

Darby was beating himself up on the inside, which was obvious to Punk while it might not be so obvious to everyone else. Darby was quiet, breathing heavy as he stared at the floor as he was sat on the locker room bench, while Punk got dressed to go back to the hotel. He frowned slightly seeing Darby so quiet, clenching his jaw, angry with himself, and barely holding back from exploding.

“Hey. Quit being mad at yourself. You lost, it happened and it’s over now.” Punk was always very straight forward with him. Darby hated it when Punk reassured him by telling him he did great that night. Darby preferred it when Punk slapped him with the truth.

“I just .. I let my guard down and if I could have just —“ Darby didn’t get to finish. Punk walked over to hold Darby’s face in his cheeks, making him look up to hush him, staring into his icy eyes.

“Darby. Whether you like to hear it or not, you did wonderful tonight. And yes, you lost. But it’s fine. It’s not gonna end your entire career. You’ll still go out there, kick ass, and whether you win or lose, I’ll be right here to cheer you on. Okay?” Punk was clearly tired of hearing Darby hate on himself. He just wanted Darby to look at himself the same way Punk looked at him.

“Okay..” Darby mumbled, letting out a breath as he pulled away from Punk’s hands. For a second, Punk thought the other was mad at him, but Darby had only pulled away so he could rest his head down against the man’s stomach.

“Can we take a hot bath at the hotel? My back is really sore.” Darby mumbled, nuzzling against Punk’s stomach. It made the older man smile, especially since Darby didn’t typically admit when he needed something.

“Of course. Anything for my little skeleton boy.” Punk bent over to kiss Darby’s head, his hand running across the younger man’s back, gently brushing up over the base of his neck to make him shudder.

“How about cuddles for my baby boy afterwards too? Maybe a movie for you to fall asleep to?” Darby smiled slightly against Punk’s stomach, nodding.

“That sounds nice. As long as you’re close.” Darby pulled away slightly to be able to look up at Punk, chin resting on his stomach.

“Daddy is always gonna be close to his baby boy. Couldn’t think of letting you go.” Punk smiled, stepping back so he could lean back down again to kiss Darby’s lips, soft and carefully. “Come on then. I’ll take care of you tonight.”

[sybilius]

INK IS DONE INK IS DONE THIS IS NOT A DRILL COLOR COMES SOON!!!!!!

Text/story From @secretcatboi ’s from the mountaintop i took down the sun!

[sybilius]

Love 2 channel Kayfabe too hard and make Darby look like an actual teenager

Anyways the corrected version is solid enough, will fiddle with the proportions and add speech bubbles and ink soon. Color approacheth...

Text/story From @secretcatboi 's from the mountaintop i took down the sun!

[miserablecreachur]

Hi, for the ship mini fic meme may I ask for Darpunk and number 3? Thank you!

Hope you are doing well, Snow <3

hello!!! of course you may. I'm doing well, thank you, and I hope that you are too <3

3. things you said too quietly - Darpunk

Backstage, after a Dynamite match, Darby sat on a stacked pile of scaffolding listening to the crowd roar and chant for the main event. His forehead had been busted open the hard way on the stairs during the match, but the bleeding had mostly stopped, and Darby would wipe the back of his taped hand against the cut to test it. He should have gone back to medical, but the cut wasn't serious, and from his position he could see the ongoing match on one of the monitors.

There was a little fresh blood on the tape as he pulled his hand back, and he would frown at it. Hopefully it stopped bleeding before he went back to see the Doc.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Darby would jump slightly, thoughts interrupted by the somewhat sudden presence of another man. The tattoos on the hand on his shoulder caught his eye immediately, and without thinking he'd raise his hand to give it a squeeze. Punk.

"Hey."

"Hey. You gonna get that looked at?"

Rolling his shoulder noncommittally, Darby would try to focus on the screen, his hand still on Punk's, as the older man leaned in to talk. "Yeah, eventually. Maybe when you go out."

The older man would clutch his chest with his free hand, shaking his head, a grin splitting his lips. "You wouldn't watch my match?"

"Nah, you're getting the win."

"Hmm."

They were talking over the crowd and the buzz of backstage activity, but Darby knew Punk well enough to hear the amusement in his voice, and see it on his face. Letting his hand slip down to his lap, Darby's focus would shift from the screen to the man in front of him as Punk moved in, taking up more space. For a moment, he would hold still, allowing Punk to cradle his jaw with his hands. His bright blue eyes traced the lines on the older man's face, trying to interpret if their configuration meant 'worry' as Punk swiped his right thumb under the cut on his forehead.

There was a ringing in his ears that always got louder, when they were that close, and too late he realized that the older man had said something and was now examining him for a response.

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

The amusement was back on Punk's face, though there was something unintelligible hanging around his eyes. Darby watched him drop his hands, and his eyes caught the older man wiping the blood from his thumb on the side of his trunks. He thought about pressing the issue, but one of the backstage workers had already approached to tap Punk's shoulder, leaning in to speak to him.

"I gotta head out."

Nodding, Darby would watch him go. Maybe he'd wait to head back until after Punk's match after all.

ship mini fic asks

[sybilius]

Gotta save Cursed Circle (camera lens) for tomorrow or another day but goddamn I am super proud of this.

Text (modified slightly to fit comic format) from @secretcatboi 's from the mountaintop i took down the sun (fic recs!!)

[youngbuckisms]

Darby: Talk dirty to me

Punk: The dishes.

Darby: Wh-

Punk: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.

[sybilius]

Man now I have a mighty need for a gif of that moment where Darby is the first to run to Punk’s side after he’s beaten down and bloody from MJF.....