pre-fallen tiny little itty bitty body Lucifer? YES PLEASE

this was SO FUN to make

modeled by me for an assignment, design originally by @diabloku in their "ALASTOR'S VICIOUS MOCKERY" video

(some more angles and a bonus cursed alternate version under the cut)

_______

some more angles to answer a question some people might have, like "HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THOSE WINGS TO FIT ON HIS BODY" (a few people asked me that lol. or at least one person did. i think a second person--ANYWAY)

answer: curve the wings out A LOT away from the body and give them tiny bases

BONUS: I HAD TOO MUCH FUN AND FORGOT THE ASSIGNMENT WAS ACTUALLY TO CREATE A BUST (HEAD AND SHOULDERS), NOT A WHOLE BODY, AND I DIDN'T KNOW HOW PEDANTIC MY PROFESSOR WOULD BE, SO I MADE THIS VERSION TOO

i wish i remembered to include his collarbone and some neck muscles. it would have been even more cursed

(more bonus info: i'm new-ish to the program we're using [ZBrush], so i didn't realize there's a torus -- a ring -- object i could have used for the halo. so i squashed a sphere and tried to cut a circle out from the center, but the program didn't cooperate. so i instead gave him a semi-halo thing lol)

Sure! I loved writing these, hope you like them <3 Also, here’s the Dabi + Shigaraki relationship headcanons SFW & NSFW

|| SFW ||

Keigo would want your relationship to stay hidden from the media and the Hero Public Safety Commission. They have access to almost everything he is, does and owns, so he rather keep them away from you. He wouldn’t want them interfering with something he really cares about.

Your relationship with him grew organically, there was no formal question asked. You had kept bumping into each other at random places, so after thinking you were very attractive, he asked for your number. You thought it was a joke because why would the Numer Two Hero actually give you his real number, but hey, that same night he texted you. Months after him stopping by your place to eat take out and chat about everything and nothing, he kissed you.

You did your best not to interpret his kiss as anything more than that but a couple of weeks of kissing later, he referred to you as “his girl” once he was teasing you through text and you just knew.

His favourite kind of dates is sitting on your living room floor and eating take-out (preferably something with chicken). You chat until it’s past midnight and then go to sleep or watch a movie until both of you do.

Keigo’s favourite sleeping position is him on top of you, resting his head between your neck and chest. He loves when you fall asleep caressing his wings. He also likes sleeping on his side, but his arm always ends up in a strange position when he tries to spoon you.

He loves making playlists. He has a playlist for almost every occasion. Once, you were sitting down on the floor after having dinner and he suddenly asked you to dance. You expected some silly music, probably the one you would hear at a nightclub, especially when he turned the lights off, the only light coming from the moon peeking through your open window. You were pleasantly surprised when he pressed play and took you in his arms, slow-dancing to probably the corniest but also most beautiful playlist you’ve ever heard. Your love for him only grew when, after a bunch of songs, you took his phone to pause it and realized Keigo named the playlist after you.

Has a habit of sending one of his red feathers flying through the sky until it reaches your always open living room window. It’s a reminder he’s thinking about you even if he’s not around and you always smile whenever you find one of those.

While on public he’s always smiling, agreeing to selfies and signing autographs, his social battery tends to drain out when he’s at your place. Sometimes he wants to be with you, but he doesn’t really want to talk. He’ll just watch TV on the couch or take a nap on your bed. You’re more than welcome to join him, though, but please don’t talk. He just needs to feel you there without the need of having to fill the silence with words.

It’s very important you understand both of his sides. It’s not that his Hawks persona is entirely fake, he really likes making cheeky comments and teasing you until your whole face is burning. But he also lives a very complicated life, not only as a hero but also because of the way he was raised, to serve the Hero Public Safety Commission and do what he’s told to do. Behind his TV smiles, there’s a kid who lost his childhood and one of the things he loves about you is that, with the small amount of information he’s managed to tell you so far, you’ve understood the depth of his character and learnt when to give him space and when to cuddle him with a big grin.

Keigo’s philosophy is always oriented to the greater good, so he has a problem with putting himself first. His choices will always go to which one will bring peace to the world in the most immediate manner. That’s one of his main issues when you two start dating. You’ve taught him that is okay to choose himself from time to time, but it’s difficult to change what he’s been taught at such a young age. This will lead to him missing dates or taking on missions he doesn’t really want to do just because the Hero Public Safety Council tells him to do so.

One of your favourite bird-like characteristics of him is the fact that Keigo likes to collect little items from each one of his favourite dates with you. He has a drawer filled with folded-up receipts, a couple of taps of soda bottles, the extra disposable chopsticks the restaurant had accidentally sent you the first night you ate together at your place, a pen from the hotel where you two had spent a night under fake names with the help of a wig and the tape you used to hide Hawks wings under a trenchcoat. You sometimes wonder if your missing earrings are there as well.

Your least favourite one is the fact he’s always up at ungodly hours of the morning, no matter which time he went to bed. He’s learnt to stay on the bed until you wake up, though. Sometimes, he will wake you up with a trail of kisses from your neck to your shoulder. Other times, he will find a more creative way...

|| NSFW ||

Yes, you guessed it. There have been times where you have woken up, feeling Keigo’s erection grazing the back of your thighs. When you do, you tend to turn around and kiss him, but sometimes you decide to play with him a little. You will play-pretend to be asleep, trying to cover your smile when Keigo, quickly catching on, jokingly laments you’re still asleep. “Aw, I wanted to play with my baby bird” he will say, softly playing with your nipples and leaving small kisses on your shoulder. “Too bad she’s still asleep. Maybe… there’s a way I can wake her up…” he says, as he slowly pushes himself inside your already wet core.

Keigo only has to modes: animalistic, rough sex or quiet, caring sex. There are times he’s going to take you on all fours, his fist grabbing your hair from behind and other times he will lay between your thighs, grunting against your neck, his hands settled on your waist as you circle his hips with your legs.

There are a lot of fun times, though. Sometimes you’re riding him while he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and one bad movement bends his cock. You both groan at the pain as you quickly remove yourself, but end up laughing so much it takes a while before you can resume your previous activity. He also never lets you forget the time you accidentally fell off the bed while he was taking you sideways and thrusted particularly hard.

One of his favourite things to do is sitting you on the kitchen counter, kneeling between your thighs and eating you out. He loves leaving you hanging, stopping just before you’re about to come and have you beg him to bring his mouth back on you.

Keigo also really likes overstimulating you. Once he lets you come, he’ll keep his mouth on your folds, wanting to see how many times he can make you come.

He’s all up for pleasing you. He really liked when you comfortable enough with him to tell him what kinks you wanted to try out. You set out a whole night for exploring. It started with spanking and somehow it ended up with you dropping hot wax on his chest. Even if most of the things you tried out didn’t stick, it was probably the most intimate night you two had, laughing when you discovered the wax had stained your sheets and him accidentally swallowing the Halls candy he had on his mouth while eating you out.

I can see Keigo being really into role-playing. He especially enjoys situations where he’s in control and you’re more than happy to give it go him. You haven’t experimented too much into this, but he definitely loves face-fucking you, seeing the tears running down your cheeks.

One day, you were coming out of the shower and felt really confident in how you looked. Knowing you had a date with Keigo that night, you snapped a nude photo of yourself kneeling with your legs wide open on your bed in front of the mirror. You grinned to yourself when you got a text back: “fuuuuuuck. you’re a whole course meal, baby. can’t wait for tonight”. Your giddiness stopped when that night, as you opened the door for him, you saw a bruise on his forehead. Concerned, you asked him about it, only to laugh loudly when he explained he had crashed into a lamppost when he opened your message.

ENEMY TERRITORY (1987, d. Peter Manoogian)

I don’t often like to bring up social or political issues on this site. For me, and I assume for many of you, these movies that I write about are a respite. When I want to escape the reality of what modern life in this country has become, then I want to watch something that looks and feels as far away from that reality as possible. And furthermore, I don’t want to shove my own social and political beliefs down anyone’s throat. I don’t know what you believe, and I don’t want to alienate a reader on a site that’s about exploitation cinema based on something that is outside of that sphere. Or even worse, you already agree with me, and I’m preaching to the converted, which is a complete waste of both my time and yours. Anyway, this is all a preamble to say that I find it impossible to talk about today’s movie, 1987’s Enemy Territory, without talking about social and political issues. Because, while this movie is undeniably entertaining, it’s also undeniably racist as hell.

These types of movies were all over the place in the 80s, the Assault on Precinct 13, Escape From New York type of urban jungle, ragtag group of heroes have to survive the night with a bunch of psychopathic baddies hunting them down. And yes, it is no secret that New York City in the 80s was a grimy, crime-ridden hellhole. So perhaps it is not that shocking that Enemy Territory does not present, shall we say, the most subtle or diverse view of black life in America. But this goes far beyond being a product of its time and environment: Enemy Territory represents a conservative white male’s nightmare vision of the black experience. Nearly every black character in this movie is either a gleeful villain or a morose victim. There are scenes in this movie where I couldn’t help but hear our internet troll President droning on about how crime-ridden and poverty-stricken and joyless he and his ilk think modern black life is in my head while it was playing. I’d like to think we’d have gotten better with understanding race relations in the 31 years since this movie was released, but all signs point to nope.

Enemy Territory opens with one of those urban blight montages, just scenes of infrastructure decay and abject poverty, while a Grandmaster Flash knockoff blares on the soundtrack. Everything is covered in graffiti. In fact, we see the title itself being spray painted on a wall, before it pops out onto the screen. Movie magic! We then meet our protagonist, Barry. Barry is an insurance salesman, and it seems that things aren’t going so well for him. He’s arguing with his ex-wife over the phone about money problems. Then he opens his desk drawer, and wouldn’t you know it, but there’s a giant bottle of Jack Daniels inside. Say it ain’t so, Barry! For some reason, Barry’s boss is like, ok Barry, you’re a total drunk fuckup, but I like you, so go get a signature from this old lady named Elva who just took out a $100,000 life insurance policy, and collect the premium. By the way, this old lady happens to live…in the ghe-ttooooooooooo.

Meanwhile, we meet a phone company repairman named Will, who is played by Ray Parker Jr. Yes, THAT Ray Parker Jr. I’m going to do my best to refrain from Ghostbusters puns here, but no promises. As it turns out, Will is also headed over…to the ghe-ttoooooooooo, because he has a lady friend there that he wants to pay a visit to. Makes sense, because I heard he likes the girls! Dammit!

So Barry arrives…in the ghe-ttoooooooooo, and immediately these kids are like, hey you white cracker honkey ass piece of shit motherfucker, give us two dollars to watch your car. And since Barry is so white he makes Dave Chappelle’s uptight white guy character look like Rudy Ray Moore, he’s like well gee golly, here’s your money, I don’t want any malarkey! And he walks away, at which point the kids start robbing his car. He’s not even out of earshot. Ugh, whatever, movie. Inside the building, Barry taps a kid on the shoulder and asks where Elva’s apartment is. The kid responds very reasonably, and is happy to help him find…nah, I’m joking, the kid is like what the fuck you say to me you white devil cracker ass jive bitch motherfuck shit cracker ass punk, and pulls a switchblade on him. UGGGGGGH, whatever, movie. Luckily, the building’s ancient security guard shoos him away, and helps Barry find Elva’s apartment. Every single line that this security guard has is about how bad the building is, how crime and gang-ridden it is, how they’re probably going to die because they’re roaming the building at this hour, etc. When Barry goes and gets the signature and the premium from Elva, every single line that SHE has is about how bad the building is, how crime and gang-ridden it is, how he’s probably going to die because he’s roaming the building at this hour, etc. Tomi Lahren probably thinks that this movie is a documentary.

Barry and the security guard head back to the elevators, but oh no, there are a bunch of gangsters waiting for them! Turns out that the kid that Barry tapped on the shoulder was a junior member of The Vampires, and now he must pay, with his blooooood!

OK, time out. This is how you know a white conservative wrote this screenplay: there has never been a street gang like this in reality ever. The Vampires are corny as hell. They refer to white people as “ghosts” and black people who help white people as “blood traitors,” have silly nicknames like Psycho, and do a little salute to one another where they make fangs with their index and middle finger, and hiss. Oh, and their leader calls himself The Count, and the most evil thing he does for the entire movie is break Elva’s glasses. Speaking of Dave Chappelle, the Player Haters Ball would have a field day with these clowns.

However, despite being totally unrealistic and silly, Tony Todd, who plays The Count and went on to play Candyman, is easily the best part of this movie. He takes all of this nonsense about how The Vampires own the night and the building is their castle and plays it with the verve and seriousness of Shakespeare. He chews the scenery, yes, but his presence is magnetic. You can’t take your eyes off of him whenever he’s on screen. The movie gave him a bunch of garbage to sell, and he sells the HELL outta that garbage.

So there’s a scuffle, and both switchblade kid and the security guard end up getting shot and killed. Ray Parker Jr., having heard something strange in the neighborhood (shit, sorry!) runs out of his lady friend’s apartment and helps Barry get to safety. The movie really kicks into gear here, and I’ve gotta say, becomes rather exciting. They keep the pace going, keep the characters on their toes, and I was surprised to find that I started to become really invested in these characters. I know I’ve been giving him a hard time, but Ray Parker Jr. really isn’t that bad of an actor, you could at least say that he skates by on charisma. But anyhow, these two eventually meet up with Elva’s granddaughter, Toni, played by Stacey Dash (who must’ve felt right at home with all this right wing dog whistling). They decide that the safest place in the building is Mr. Parker’s apartment, as he’s the only person that The Vampires are scared of.

We finally get to Mr. Parker’s apartment, but not before Barry has to stab a Vampire to death, which reduces him to a blubbering mess. Mr. Parker’s door looks like a maximum security jail cell door, and there’s a slot through which he sticks out a gun. Eventually he lets them in, and holy shit, his entire apartment is covered in reinforced steel, wired with booby traps, and Mr. Parker himself turns out to be a kooky crazy Vietnam vet in a fancy, weaponized wheelchair (!!!) played by none other than Jan-Michael Vincent. He goes on and on about how he left one war and found himself in another and says some pretty racist stuff about his fellow tenants and is like, you know why I’ve got this pet bird? So that if there’s a gas leak, I’ll know about it because he died first! And then he’s like, you know why I got this pet cat? So that it can eat my food first, and test it for poison!

At this point, I knew that this character wasn’t going to be in the movie much longer. One, because when you introduce a character this larger than life this late in the narrative, then it’s too good to be true. Two, because at the time, Jan-Michael Vincent was well into his torrid love affair with drugs and alcohol. Despite the fact that Mr. Parker is in a wheelchair, his legs are constantly twitching. You can’t help but speculate that they gave the character a wheelchair because JMV was too drunk to stand up, and considering the sorry state of his health today, that wheelchair becomes almost a harbinger of things to come. Anyway, The Vampires show up and almost immediately kill Mr. Parker. But not before he can give his machine gun to Elva. Chekhov’s machine gun!

Barry, Toni, and Ray Parker Jr. somehow manage to escape, and they find a little boy who claims to know a secret way out of the building that not even The Vampires know about. On the way, they encounter the aforementioned Psycho, who has a giant geri curl that made me chuckle, and they throw him down an open elevator shaft, which also made me chuckle. So they get down to the basement, gingerly stepping over Psycho’s corpse, and make their way to the secret exit. But guess what? PSYCHO ISN’T DEAD! At this point, I got very excited, because, holy shit, what if The Vampires…ARE ACTUAL VAMPIRES?!?! If the movie suddenly went in THAT direction, that would’ve been so awesome. But, alas, they just kill Psycho again, this time for good. RIP, Psycho.

Eventually the kid leads them to the secret exit, but its a really tight squeeze, so Toni decides to run to the nearby NYPD building for help. Of course, she is almost immediately raped and murdered by an entirely DIFFERENT gang as soon as she leaves the building, because the movie hadn’t shoved its racism in your face in awhile. Without giving too much away, eventually Barry and Ray Parker Jr. also get out, The Count has an amazing, borderline operatic (seriously!) death scene, the rest of The Vampires are shot at by Elva and her new machine gun (yaaaaay!) and in the ultimate example of this being a right wing fantasy, the NYPD, yes, the NYPD, arrives right on time to save the day. Hoooooo boy.

So what else is there to say about Enemy Territory? Yes, it is entertaining. It is a well-constructed action movie with some surprisingly good performances to back it up. I haven’t even discussed the cinematography, which is easily the film’s best technical asset, seeing as it was done by the legendary Ernest Dickerson, who shot all of Spike Lee’s best movies. I can’t imagine it was easy for Ernest to look Spike in the eye after participating in a movie like this. And here’s the thing: Enemy Territory isn’t just racist now, it was considered racist for the time, if you can imagine that. After it was released, on May 22, 1987 (the day I was born!), the film played in New York City for a week before it was pulled from theaters due to overwhelming outrage and protests from black activists and civil rights groups. Though it would make its money back on VHS, the film has never made it to DVD, and there seem to be no current plans to change that. Which is fine by me. Enemy Territory is a shiny piece of entertainment that rots from the inside; what purports to be a gritty look at the big bad city is really nothing more than a collection of racist dog whistles directed at a section of the white population whose view of other races is myopic and bigoted. There are plenty of great 80s action movies that won’t make you queasily think of Bernie Goetz, or the Central Park Five, or Amadou Diallo. After all, real life is bad enough, wouldn’t you rather escape?