#knightriders whiteface

[x-xphantomime]

get silly with it

[reebunny]

Watched Knightriders the other day with @pretty-h8-mach1ne and I got screenshots of John Amplas/Whiteface since I've seen nobody do so which I know why.

Not only is he a side character but a swift one who is off screen as fast as he comes on screen.

Either way enjoy these (kinda low quality) pictures

(1/2)

[obscureoperations]

Martin and Whiteface fucking the reader.

if you're doing requests/okay with writing this

Ohhh man..now this is a thot! For some reason I've always pinned Whiteface as being a service bottom..but listen! It was a bit hard to try and get the universes to mesh so I said fuck it..lets goooo! 

~

At times you had to wonder how you found yourself in such situations, but in the moment you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You were on fire, heartbeat hammering against your ribs as you lean back against the familiarity that was Martin. Long nimble fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you prone-- his tongue moves expertly over your heated flesh. It was too much...the limber sprite was full of surprises. How on earth was he that good with his mouth?

Martin begins to press kisses at the nape of your neck, strong arms wrap around you tightly. Whispering not so sweet nothings against your ear.

"Look at him y/n... he wants to devour you.."

A broken moan escapes your throat, you glance down to see Martin smooth the Jester's bangs away from his face. Splotches of white began to fade revealing bits of his actual skin-- their similarities were uncanny. Like something from one of your fantasies. For the longest time Martin was enough, the boy was actually perfect for you. The two of you understood each other in an a nearly supernatural way. He was everything to you, but the sheer erotic indulgence of having two? How could you possibly refuse?"

Despite the mime’s eerie silence, his breath comes out in heated puffs. Small moans forming at the back of his throat as he begins to stroke himself in full. This was the first time that he was allowed to take you--his usual role in the bedroom was strictly limited to prep and clean up. He knew his place. You would often times find yourself staring at the man-- in quiet fascination as he patches you up after a particularly rough session. He was beautiful that much you could tell despite the make up. Once he removed it they were damn near identical.

You had practically begged Martin for weeks. You only wanted to know if the two of them felt the same. In a way your boyfriend couldn’t be upset, they were both so strangely identical. After a few weeks or so, Martin reluctantly agreed. 

 At least he seemed to be enjoying the view. His hands began to flitter across your torso. Kneading at your breasts almost painfully as another wave of release washes over. 

Spine arching like a bow, Martin takes a moment to cup your chin. Craning your neck back gently, he kisses you softly  “Tell me, y/n.. do you prefer his mouth or mine?” 

Before you have a chance to answer he shifts away, leaving you momentarily cold. Sinking back against the sheets, grasping at the comforter..in your haze, you watch as the mime emerges from between your legs. Bathed in moonlight, you would have sworn that it was Martin, the blotchy greasepaint made it all the more surreal. Your legs ached, the wonderful feeling forming at the pit of your stomach... Martin was prompting you to turn over.

On your hands and knees, staring at the cracking drywall, the Jester enters you with one sharp thrust. You cry out, it was all so blissfully familiar,but now you had Martin watching the two of you like a hawk. You could feel the weight of his attention, eyes glued to your face as he smoothes the bangs away from your eyes.

 All eyes on you as he gently cups your chin, kissing you sweetly. 

“Go on baby.. use it.. “he whispers, rising to his knees. He positions his cock in front of your parted lips.

The jester begins to smooth his hands across your back in a soothing caress as he pick up the pace. You weren’t used to this position, Martin preferred to have you on your back. Face to face. He could see you, and kiss you freely whenever he wanted. The unfamiliar angle causes something inside to ignite, every stroke felt better than the last.

The tip of Martin’s cock probes your lips, out of instinct you take him into your willing mouth. The slight saltiness on your tongue causes a moan to form in your throat.. the familiar taste spurs you on.

You were reeling.. the blunt tips of the jesters nails begin to dig into your hips. His thrusts becoming more erratic. You wondered if he would actually come inside of you. Surprisingly the three of you never discussed it. Would Martin be upset? As if on cue, our boyfriend speaks up. “You should see him.. y/n. H-he’s completely wrecked..” He whispers. You can feel the man tremble behind you, grasping your hips and pumping into you in a frenzy. 

“I think he’s gonna cum soon..y/n..Would you like that? You want him to cum deep inside?” The teasing tone causes your ears to burn, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. You weren’t really in any place to answer, instead you let out a moan, the vibrations causes Martin to cry out, grasping a fistful of your hair. “J--just like that..” he whispers. 

The backs of your thighs and triceps start to burn, your jaw was tired. Somehow the two men had it in them to keep going. Pausing from time to time, Martin releases your mouth to kiss you sweetly, massage your jaw--you were pretty sure the mime was simply edging himself behind you. Removing himself from you entirely, fingers playing over your heated flesh as he teases himself with his other hand. You were still surprised at the curious expression on Martin’s face as he observes Whiteface intently.

 With a sigh he shifts back onto his knees, positioning himself in front of your mouth. As if on cue,The mime follows suit. He enters you sharply, holding your hips in place as he slowly rolls his hips. You were on fire, the preciseness of the angle causes you your knees to grow weak. His breath comes out in heated puffs, barely audible moans and the occasional gasp. You were momentarily regretful you couldn’t see his face. Overcome with the urge to watch him unravel...you knew that one day you would get him to speak.

[nerdyqueerr]

Ok done Knightriders posting for tn. You all need to stop thirsting over that background clown acrobat guy btw what the hell is wrong with you people

[pumpkinpowder]

Them <3

[reebunny]

(2/2+bonus)

More pictures yay

Bonus poster image I found somewhere I forgot (probably google)

[obscureoperations]

What if they accidentally hurt the reader. '-'

Then, like the reader gets really quiet... and nervous around them....

I don't know... You don't have to write this, it's just something I was curious about...

Ohh man that would be a rough situation for everyone involved. Especially if it was early on in the relationship.Martin especially wouldn't want to lose any progress with you--he already felt like he was walking on eggshells.

Martin

Would be completely distraught, already convinced he had royally screwed up. You were the most important person in the world to him..why did he have to be so clumsy? The sight of the bruise on your upper cheek makes him sick--the fact that he was the one who caused it. Internalizing his emotions he always felt deep down he was a monster. He only proved that he was capable of hurting you even in his sleep.

You had long since gotten used to his night terrors, and after a while they seemed to subside. The episodes were far and few in between, though last night's episode was particularly severe. He could feel the weight of the wooden stake as pierced the flesh, the sound of it crunching through bone. You were there in the background sobbing hysterically as you tried to tear away from the hooded figures. I was too late, he could feel coldness seep into his bones until everything eventually went black.

The next thing he knew, the lamp was knocked over from the dresser, he was sweating profusely, and you were clutching your cheek. There was a slight ache in his right hand, his knuckles were stiff. "Y/n... what did I do?"

He already knew that you had forgiven him.. but it was only natural for you to be a bit wary. The way you would flinch away from him the next couple days causes his heart to break. He would go out of his way to give you space--He even offered to sleep on the couch until you felt comfortable enough again. You were having none of it even the night of the incident. After he cleaned you up in the bathroom, the two of you silently went back to sleep.

His actions can only be described as gentle. The tone of his voice when he would speak you you, you had to know it was an accident right? Checking in to see how you are, bringing you small gifts just to get you to smile. He even considered talking to someone about the nightmares.. a doctor. The thought alone made him sick but if it could prevent him from accidentally hurting you again, it was a calculated risk.

Whiteface

He would be a bundle of nerves, almost to anxious to perform. It was an accident, he was only trying to show you one of his acrobatic tricks-you'd practically begged him to teach you. Against his better judgement, he complied--after all you were rather astute. It was nothing too dangerous, it didn't involve fire or heights--but somehow you managed to sprain your wrist. He felt awful.

He didn't understand how he managed to let you slip--fine tuned reflexes from years of practice. It was over faster than it began, you sat on the grass clutching your wrist. He rushed over to you in a frenzy, noting how you instinctively linch. He face falls as a wave of sadness washed over him. You come to your senses as he ushers you to the tent.

You weren't intentionally avoiding him, but there was a slight skittishness about you for the next couple days. He tried not to let it get to him, it reminded him of a small animal after getting injured. It only made him want to protect you, but he felt it better to give you some space. Accompanying Merlin when he brought you herbal teas to help the swelling. He remained quietly perched at your side. The day that you finally reached out to take his hand he was elated. Things wold soon be back to normal again.

Abe

Now that would be a bit of a different story, he might even get annoyed at your skittish behavior. You were acting like a child..surely you had to know by now that he'd never hurt you intentionally. He was the one to defend you from his brothers from day one. Abe was no fool, he knew that you had to trust im--at least just a little by this point in your relationship. He had to admit you managed to get to him..worming your way into his heart.

That's why it was hard for him not to up and call you stupid for getting hurt in such way. You knew not to play with any of the knives in his collection. They were special. The flicker of irritation as he walked in the room to find you standing over the wooden box. You had Ace in your hand.. the black thirteen inch bowie knife--the one he's owned since he was ten.

Never one to be careless with blades, he calmly walked over to where you were standing pinching the bridge of his nose at a safe distance. "Pookie...what on earth are you doing?" You nearly drop the knife at the sound of his voice--that wold have been a really bad thing. Out of instinct he reaches for it in such a way, it slices the palm of your hand. Coulda been worse.

While extremely apologetic for invading his space he could see you waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even after he bandages you up, and you're eating supper..you barely spare him a glance. He knew you were sorry for the intrusion, but somehow you seemed so afraid. He didn't like it. It reminded him of the early days in your relationship, in his opinion, the two of you had come so far. Surely you knew that he would never physically harm you, even when you went out of your way to annoy him.

He gives you some space, almost mocking the incident--calling you a naughty lil thing for playing with knives. If he could get you to see him making fun of the situation, you had to lighten up right. Eventually after a day of your nonsense, he has to sit you down in the kitchen. "Y/n.. you apologized and I forgave you. Lets just forget about it now." As you move to speak. "I already know, This ain't some weird trick. I want us to go back to being nice to each other."

[obscureoperations]

them w/an s/o apologizing for being a pathetic waste of time <3

Noooo! 🥺😭Mkay here goes..

Martin:

It was rare that Martin got to witness you in such a way, usually you were the beacon of positivity. It was one of the things that first attracted him to you..your ability to light up a room. You balanced each other out perfectly, you offset his somber demeanor. He found himself starting to smile and laugh more from the very day that he met you.

But this was something different entirely, the young man had no idea what to do. You seemed to grow progressively somber and withdrawn over the past few days. He found you sitting at the edge of the windowsill around two thirty in the afternoon. He had gotten off work early and was surprised to see your car in the driveway. He was so excited to come in and see you.

He watched you for a moment from the doorframe, with your head in your hands. What was wrong. The moment he heard you sniffle, he's instantly at your side.. you were still startled to see him. Wiping at your eyes, you try your best to offer a cheery smile. Martin was having none of it. Wiping at your cheeks leaning in to kiss your forehead.

"Y/n?"

"I-Im sorry..."

He was extremely confused. He was used to being the one to dish out apologies. With a sigh, he leans in pressing his forehead against yours.

"Sorry for what love?"

A woosh of air escapes your lungs and Martin pulls you close.

"F-for being such a waste of space."

He was baffled, honestly at a loss for words. What did you mean a waste of space? You were the most important person in the world to him, surely you knew that.

"Don't..y/n.."

More tears begin to stream down your cheeks , and st as qickly Martin wipes them away.

"Don't ever say that. I--I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you."

Whiteface:

The past few months sped by in a blur, the mime was the happiest he had ever been. To think the two of you met completely by accident when he spotted your bike at the side of the road. The gang pulled over instantly when they saw you crumpled down on the pavement. The mirror of your bike was completely shattered laying a few feet to the left.

Needless to say they came to a complete still and alerted the medic, Whiteface had no idea what was going on. Carefully peering out the side of the traveling tent, he finally realized there was an accident. Not one to be able to stomach blood and gore, the slender sprite stayed in the tent. Oddly anxious, he found himself praying that this stranger would be alright. 

Days pass and apparently they decided to scoop you up and take you to your actual destination. They didn't mind, Billy had officially taken the crown of another city, so for the most part the crew was just celebrating the win. He liked to stay in the tent with Merlin as he tends to your wounds and brings you sacred offerings. Things that would help you heal, Small satchels filled with various powders.

He grew to really enjoy your presence and for the most part, you seemed to like the company. You always made a point to apologize for being such an inconvenience.. The mime tried his best to assure that was not the case. Personal improvisational shows, juggling various objects he fond in the room. The sound of your laughter was msic to his ears--it was rare that he got to get this close to his audience.

As time passes, the mime finds himself liking you more than he actually should. The moment he arose, he couldn't wait to get to your bunker. He wanted to see how well Merlin's magic was working. You seemed to grow stronger by the day, and it excited him--but at the same time left him with a sense of dread. You were gonna leave eventually. That much could have been expected, but the mime really didn’t think about that. Too wrapped up in basking in your  presence-- it surprised him to find you quietly sniffling in the corner of the room one morning.

The moment, he unzip the tent you appear startled, quickly wiping at your eyes. His first thought was that you were in pain, and contemplated calling for Merlin. You try your best to play it off. “Mornin’ sunshine..” That was the nickname you officially gave him. He was having none of it.. the sprite eases his way into the tent, clasping it behind him, before rushing to your side.

In an attempt to meet your gaze, you glance away even as he moves to cup your cheeks. Wiping the stray tears away, his heart hammers against his ribs like a caged bird. This was the closest he’s ever been to you. Actually touching you in a way not merely in passing. He hated seeing you in pain. What happened? Whiteface tries his best to get you to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” you finally whisper. At this point he was completely baffled. He settles on lightly pressing his forehead against yours, silently hoping that you’d continue to speak.

“I’m sorry for being such a waste of space..” 

Where on earth was this coming from.. did someone say something? The wheels begin to spin in his mind. All of the gang, himself included were happy to have you along for the ride. The more the merrier. You told such funny stories from your travels, if anything you seemed to bring new life to the crew. A solo cyclist.. none of them could fathom such a thing.

A few more tears spill which you promptly wipe away, he could  tell you were growing increasingly embarrassed. 

“I’m healing up now.. I should probably try to work on my bik-”

In an instant, His lips are on yours, just lightly..as if testing the waters. You can feel his heartbeat hammering against his ribs..he was so nervous. But why?

You draw him close as you deepen the kiss

Abe:

Sweetness was not in the realm of Abe’s vocabulary, something seemed to switch over the day that he met you. Shivering, curled away at the furthest corner of the kennel--repulsed at the sound of his voice. He had nearly beaten his brother to a bloody pulp the moment he had the audacity to slap you. you were his. No harvest, no offerings. You were going to stay in that house with him. You were going to love him eventually.

 Abe left Luke stalking off to his room with a broken nose and quite a few bruises--at this point he didn’t really care. The hose was empty, Luke had gone off to take out his aggression, Cynthia left to collect some herbs. He could hear you scurrying around in the kennel and decided it was time for you to eat.

Taking his time to heat up a can of soup on the gas stove, Abe begins rummaging through the cabinets. In search of garlic powder, black pepper, anything that would make the meal in itself all the more rewarding. With a sigh, he carries the steaming bowl over to the kennel, only to find you huddled up at the farthest corner of the cage.

“Pookie!” He whistles, kicking at the kennel causing you to wince and cover your ears. So cute. He loosens a few buttons on his shirt before easing the steaming bowl into the cage.

“You need to eat darlin’“

You practically convulse, you had no idea when he slipped open the locks. You needed to escape but the warm savoury scent began to overwhelm you. Plain chicken sop the way your dad used to make. The scent was both comforting and completely nauseating. More tears begin to spill. Incoherent words as you try and convince him to let you go. Not good for the harvest. You weren’t a virgin. Yo had so many impurities in your system.

“I-’m just-- a waste of space.. please just let me go..”

You weren’t a waste of anything. You were his chance at a semblance or normality.

Abe found himself leaning in reaching for the lapel of your shirt. He presses his face to your neck inhaling your scent.

“You’re not a waste of nothin’ sweetheart. I’ll see if I can get you strong enough to run away from me.”

[obscureoperations]

what are their safe words? and what if the reader says em ??????

Interesting anon...very interesting.. Part of me wants to say that Abe doesn't give a fuck about safe words but you know me. I like to paint him as having a few traces of humanity. Onwards!

Martin

I thinks his safe word would be something as simple as the word "Hurt" or some kind of variation on it. He's very blunt in his phrasing, and in order for the two of you to communicate, you'd have to be pretty blunt as well.

He's very astute in the bedroom, attune with your every breath and microexpression. The second you utter the word, he immediately backs off--allowing you some time to recuperate.

He still has flashbacks of the days when he would sneak into houses uninvited. He never wanted to do things like that with you.. the moment you utter the word, it switches off a part of his brain. bloodlust stalled and replaced with the need to care for you entirely.

It sets off his protective streak. All feather soft kisses along your hairline. Snaking his arms underneath to hold you close. "Are you alright darling? Look at me sweetheart.. I'm here."

Whiteface

I wanna say "Scarf" he used them quite often enough. Things were pretty vanilla between you for the longest time.You were the one who suggested using a few of his gimmicks. The scarves. You loved to watch him swirl them in front of the crowd, knowing full well what went on behind the scenes.

You loved it when he would tether you to the makeshift bed, silken scarves leaving you open and prone. Soft kisses unrelenting as he slowly works his way down your body. His teeth begins to nip at your inner thigh.

I have a feeling, the jester has no idea on how effortlessly he can turn you on. The simple act of stripping bare in front of him was enough to leave you wanting. The way he would look at you, teasing the satin scarves between his fingers. Grease paint sloppily removed, forcing you to gaze at his angelic face.

He always prefers for you to ride him, but when left in control, he wants to make sure that you feel safe. The power that he feels when your left trembling beneath him.. sweat droplets and tears seep into your hairline.

Hands bound to the creaky posts with his ties, you looked so beautiful.. Why were you crying?

Gently removing the gag from your mouth, you whisper the word. The mime eases his way off of you, curling up to your sde, anxious for your next command

Abe

This man doesn't have a safeword, point blank period.. But for the sake of this ask I'm gonna say "Kitchen"

It stems from the moment he wrangled you into the house. Still in the policeman's uniform, both him and Luke drag you into the kitchen. He was so focused on removing your clothes, when he got to your shoes, you manage to scurry away. So close to the door, you almost escape..Luke had the audacity to slap you across the face.

His ears were ringing as heat spread across his face..he wanted to kill him. It wasn't rare that his brother managed to work his way under his skin--but this was something different entirely. He had no right touching you like that.

He remembered beating Luke senseless in the kitchen as you watch with bated breath..You heard him going on about how you were his and if Luke ever hurt you, he’d kill him.

You watched him with the most peculiar expression after that incident, it didn’t take as long as he expected for you to warm up to him. In terms of “Kitchen” being the safe word, you just suggested it without telling him why. After all you knew he would make fun of you for being so ‘sentimental’ but for some reason you had an inkling that he knew.

The moment you utter the word, he reluctantly obliges. A heavy sigh as he climbs off of you. Settling back against the pillows, palming his cock. “Go on.. get yourself together Pookie so we can finish up..”

[obscureoperations]

here are my eyeballs ok.

our favorite jestermimesprite w/a submissiv male s/o

if ur doing rquests if nt thts ok

i just forgot how to type my guy

maybe i shouldve kept le eyes for that-

Honestly though, this is an interesting concept. I feel that multiple people (myself included) already painted Whiteface as a bit of a sub. But what if.. If he finds himself with a partner more submissive than himself, he would be at a total loss. He didn't really know what to do but simply fall into the role. 

I think that he would take to it better than he expected, he adored everything about his partner. They made his heart light up inside...he would do anything to assure them they were loved.

Mostly shy and hesitant in the beginning, he literally doesn't know what to do. He was a performer, thinking back on past experiences..just what did he crave in that intimate that moment? His inner perfectionist wanted him to effortlessly fall into the role, but it was never really that easy.

Collapsing on top of them, he already knew that they needed him to be “soft” Smoothing the hair away from their eyes, kissing their cheeks. Firmly grasping their jaw--forcing them to look at him. 

Grasping at fitfuls of their hair as they work their way down his slender frame.

It was rare for the shy jester to find someone more soft spoken and docile than he was. After all it was part of his job--and he wasn't like most of the general population. Quiet by nature, he could speak..but after a certain point in time he chose not to.

When he first met you, he was definitely intrigued--your submissive nature was something he would discover later. If anything, you had a bit of a mouth on you, your cheers could be heard from the sidelines. You seemed to take a notice of the mime the very first show, sitting forward in your seen when he'd grace the arena. He could feel the intensity of your stare..it fueled his desire to perform.

Your relationship progressed faster than he could have imagined. It was like you swooped in and in an instant you were his. It all felt so natural--as if he knew you in another life. Impossible but who knows. The two of you seemed to balance eachother out, your extroverted nature complimented his quiet observations. You were not afraid to speak in uncomfortable situations. It came in handy when there were rival gangs.

He found himself wanting to spend all of his time with you..in between shows, the two of you had all the time in the world. You didn't jump into intimate territory until months into your relationship. He should have known, there were definite signs of your submissive nature leading up to that night in the tent.

The way you would seek out, reaching for his hand, resting your head at the crook of his shoulder. You would look to him for approval the second you'd make a joke. If he didn't crack a smile you were deflated. You somehow managed to claim the role of '' little spoon'' The limber sprite couldn't find it in him to complain. The way you would meld against him as he held you in his arms. All was right in the world...it was perfect.

He was trembling, heartbeat hammering against his ribs as he quietly zips up the tent. The light was out in front of the bunker,indicating that there would be no disturbances for the rest of the night. The guys were good as setting ground rules in that way, though few wan far inbetween. He couldn't describe the way you'd been looking at him all day.. it caused him to blush quite profusely. Stomach doing somersaults, his palms grew increasingly damp. Just what did you need from him?

Kaleidoscopic eyes seemed to bore into his very soul as you spoke to him. "Do ya think I could stay with you tonight?"

It wasn't even a question. Of course you could..you had spent the night in his arms numerous times. With your eyes drifting over his features, the pieces click together and he began to tremble. He nods his head in silence. Your face lit up and it causes him to melt, he gives a brief glance over his shoulder before kissing your cheek.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight before him. In the time that he removed the greasepaint, you had stripped completely bare. Lounging across the small lumpy mattress, you looked like some sort of reanimated painting. His mouth goes dry as his gaze moves over every inch of newly revealed flesh. At least you seemed to be blushing as well--you reach out your hand.

"Darling.. please come here.."

~~~

[obscureoperations]

can i tackle the adorable little mimey boy bc i wanna give him a hug hes so cute😖I love himmmmmmmmm♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Understandable fam..He is just.. so cute??

Just imagine the tips of his ears turning bright red as you smooch off the majority of his greasepaint. Cornering him before a show, and kissing him silly.. "Can you please do that one trick with the batons?"

He just seems like an absolute sweetheart.. I mean c'mon..just look at that face!

[obscureoperations]

Any unpopular opinions or hot takes on any of the lads?? Asking for a friend👀👀

[obscureoperations]

Whiteface is just too cute to exist

He really is tho! It’s not even fair!! I mean look at him!! Ngl I’d love it if he would teach me to juggle!

🥹😭

[obscureoperations]

okay literally whenever you describe whiteface as " a bundle of nerves "

I don't why

But it gives me this warm feeling like I wanna hold him in my hands and slowly squeeze the life out of him in a loving way-

Idk bye bye, have a lovely day/night/other

Ello lovely!

Trying to remember when I actually called him that.. but it sounds like something I would say. I mean look at him! He seems like such an avid performer yet weird and anxious in real life…Just imagine how nervous he would get if you moved to grasp his hand..

Tbh the character himself is just super cute! Just how did he wrangle himself into the gang.. where did they find him? Was ithe mime aspect simply a character, or was he really hearing impaired?

Such an iconic character but with limited screen time..(coughAllOfJA’scharacters)

[obscureoperations]

MC says the most absurd and lewd things to Mr Mime whilst heavily drunk out of their mind. 💀

I think he'd be terrified. I don't know, I'm in a weird ass mood

Omg I love it! The man’s would have no idea how to react😳 Especially if the two of you were alone in the tent and you start to whisper all the things you wanted to do to him! 👀

I think it’d be hilarious especially if you were typically the shy type. To hear such words coming from your mouth?! But if you weren’t.. it made it all the more embarrassingly alluring. He knew you weren’t just drunk.. you were telling the truth. You wanted to do what to him?!?

I can picture him completely flustered… blushing despite the grease paint. Flushed to the tip of his ears as he buries his face in his hands.