I haven't seen any posts about this yet but l've seen some fan art that makes me feel this needs to be said:
Don't forget Leah Sava Jeffries has darker skin when making Annabeth Chase fan art!
She is much closer to Lupita Nyong'o than Zoe Kravitz when it comes to shading, reflection, and complementary color usage :).
Lighting for dark skin is different on light skin. Light skin gets changed by lighting, and dark skin reflects the lighting. Below is a lovely shot of Nyong'o's character from Wakanda Forever in mourning. The filmmakers emphasize the umber qualities of her skin in contrast to the funereal white and (arguably harsh) light across her shoulder below.
Try to pick spots that aren't directly in or near the light, and try mixing 3 or more! You can put it into a color mixer online, or even color pick, lower the opacity, and lay the shades over each other until you find one that fits. And of course, the more 'realistic' you want to go with shading and lighting, the more shades you're going to want to be able to explore vivaciously :D.
Let's take a look at the same 3 beautiful actresses I mentioned at the beginning, with a bad color picked area and a better-ish color picked area. (Please keep in mind, these are not perfect comparisons, as I was not able to find pictures of all 3 actresses under the same kind of lighting.)
Kravitz's has a clear difference between the two, but they aren't too far apart, in comparison to Nyong’o’s and Jeffries’s. Note the dullness in the poorly picked shades as opposed to the better ones. Also keep in mind that while Kravitz has a rosy undertone (at least in that picture - it’s from The Batman, which has stylized coloring) Nyong’o has a slight cool undertone (I can’t pin down quite what, but the picture is definitely not stylized like Kravitz’s).
Jeffries runs more ochre or russet, but neither of those are pink. They are more red than terracotta or umber, but to call Jeffries’s face rosy would be wrong. Err more towards the golden when drawing her.
^^saved an image from a writing tutorial long ago, but can’t seem to find it. If someone recognizes it, I’ll link it.
EDIT: it’s from this post. Thanks @autumnrowancollector ! <3
And also, the darker skin gets, the less likely warm undertones are going to appear. Don't be afraid to use blue or purple or even green on occasion!
Additionally, cool lighting on dark skin is always a win imo.
(I was going to use that picture of Jeffries as Annabeth by the lightning bolt, but then I realized the lighting on her face doesn’t quite match up with where it should hit from that angle, and I realized they kind of just turned everything bluer, so screenshot time!)
(Also if you want another really great live action example, check out anything Aldis Hodge is in, like Leverage and Black Adam)(and of course there’s Spiderverse <3 but I want to post pictures of Hodge)
Now, to here’s a list of more experienced people’s advice:
Black facial features & hair
Shading digitally for a (somewhat) monotone Black character
Stylistic choices and places to start looking for inspiration (besides a search engine).
Coloring Black people’s lips
A better coloration tutorial
Also a nice tutorial for Indigenous skin tones, just in case yall want to draw Piper or use this information for other dark skinned characters :).
EDIT: Some actresses who are closer in skintone to use for Annabeth, provided by the lovely @blackfemmecharacterdependency ! If you can’t find a reference for Jeffries in a specific lighting, maybe check out these ladies’ pictures! It’s a reblog, so scroll down.
TLDR: Don’t make Annabeth pink and pale, make her dark and golden.
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Impa has had plenty of battle experience in her life.
Countless days spent training in both tactics and fighting itself, long hours plugged into doing nothing but honing the skills of her tribe and other abilities she’s been gifted with. Learning the most effective ways to use them all together, and win any fight.
But there’s really no way to prepare yourself for a battle in which both your past lover (who can’t exactly be called her husband since Impa hasn’t even spoken to him in almost two decades, and has also for some reason aligned himself with an army of monsters) and son (who is unaware of the identity of either of his parents, and shouldn’t be on the battlefield anyway since he’s not even of age) are both running around in on opposite sides, making it impossible to keep track of either of them.
Impa huffs as she dodges a spear, worry and exasperation clashing together within her.
She’s lost sight of Link for the third time already this battle, and only has a vague idea of where Volga ended up. Link has demonstrated he can handle himself, but he’s still only a trainee, and Impa’s seen (even from a distance) what sort of trouble he can get into.
And Volga...
The questions that have been swirling around in her head ever since the battle start to come to life again, but Impa ignores them, focusing not on the hurt and confusion and instead on her current goal.
“Where did the boy go, Link?” she asks the captain stationed at the keep she’s helping defend, slashing past a bokoblin and narrowly saving a soldier’s head.
The captain frowns, holding his shield up to block a stray arrow. “I lost sight of him, all I know is he took out a whole squad of bokos and ran off,” he says, forehead creased.
“I saw him heading to the abandoned fort ma’am,” a soldier calls towards her. “Someone said that dragon-man is back there, I think he went to go fight him off.”
A cold feeling steals into Impa’s chest.
“Idiot boy is going to get himself killed,” the captain at her side mutters, slicing viciously at a monster. “Trainees shouldn’t be out here at all, no less fighting dragons. Boy barely looks old enough to shave.”
Impa more than agrees, but doesn’t waste her time with words, leaving the keep in the captain’s capable hands, and taking off to go find Link.
...and Volga.
She follows the soldier’s words, heading to the fort he’d pointed out. Sure enough, as she gets closer, she sees streams of fire burst into the air, hears the clash of weapons and familiar shouts.
Her heart skips a beat, and she runs past bokoblins and moblins alike, pausing only momentarily to fight her way past a few.
None of the monsters that get in her way are terribly tough, but they take time to fight, and Impa is getting anxious, casting continued glances at the smoke and fire nearby. She’s seen firsthand today how good of a fighter Link is, but she’s also well aware of Volga’s strength.
And Link... will need help.
The last bokoblin falls and Impa runs for the fort, arriving just in time to see Volga slam a clawed fist into Link. He cries out as he’s thrown across the cobblestones, landing in a motionless heap, and Impa bolts, blood roaring in her ears.
She slides to a stop in front of Link when Volga tries to advance, putting herself between them and blocking his path. The dragon knight stares at her, shadowed eyes narrowed, and Impa glares back, unmoving in her defense of Link.
She sees no sign of the man she fell in love with in his eyes.
“How noble,” Volga sneers, embers falling from his mouth. “Enjoy your shared grave.”
The fire around him begins to intensify, and Impa’s eyes widen, knowing immediately what it means.
“Oh no...” she breathes, and turns back to Link in a panic, getting to a knee and touching his shoulder. He shifts at her touch, but just a little, his eyes flickering when she shakes him. Volga growls, and Impa whirls back towards him, knowing she doesn’t have enough time to pull Link out of here.
The air around Volga wavers with heat as flames lick up his form, and then he moves forward, blasting a huge plume of fire directly at them both, hotter than death mountain itself.
And right before the flames hit, Link stumbles in front of Impa, a hand outstretched like he hopes to hold back the flames with nothing but his arm.
Impa barely has enough time to be horrified (he’s only a boy, he shouldn’t be protecting her, she can’t watch her son die—) before the flames engulf them both.
...
But instead of burning alive in her former-lover’s flames, Impa instead feels a gentle warmth.
It’s equally soothing and powerful, and she opens her eyes, not even realizing she’d closed them. The sight that meets her makes her startle, and she stares up at Link in utter shock.
Golden light is pouring around Link— around her son, in a wide, protective glow, encircling and keeping them both safe. All of him holds a shine, but his left hand is glowing especially bright, triangles outlined on the back in a beautiful luminescent gold. A sign of which Impa would know anywhere and had already begun to suspect, but almost doesn’t want to believe, to face what it truly means for them all.
Link is the Hero.
Volga’s flames finally peter off, and the light fades, but Link still holds his hand up, fingers shaking a little. Volga studies him, giving Link a calculating look as his eyes dart across his face, and Impa finds herself holding her breath.
Will he notice the similarities, will he pick up on the features he and Link share, will he put the pieces together—
But Volga appears not to recognize anything amiss about Link, or even herself, and he barely spares her a glance as he growls something about not being beaten, and departs the battlefield.
Link shakily falls to a knee almost the moment he’s gone, and Impa resists the urge to grab him by the shoulders and make sure he’s okay, instead joining his side not too quickly.
“H-how...” he croaks, staring at his hand in equal awe and terror. “What was...”
“The triforce of courage,” Impa supplies, and he looks at her, his face covered in grime and sweat, and layered with a healthy amount of shock.
She takes a deep breath as what the meaning of this truly signifies begins to sink into her chest, fear and pride and several other emotions all vying for her attention. But she ignores them all, especially the sharp ache at the realization her son has a long fight ahead of him.
A monster howls somewhere nearby, accompanied by a soldier’s yell, and Impa closes her eyes, then reopens them, packing the emotions away with practiced ease.
“...I’m afraid we don’t have time for me to explain everything to you right now,” she apologizes, offering Link a hand up. “But I promise I will. At the moment, we have a battle to win.”
Link swallows, looking like he wants to say more. But then he straightens his shoulders and nods, letting her pull him to his feet. Impa can feel his hand still faintly shaking, and she can’t resist giving it the lightest of squeezes before she lets go, quickly returning her attention to the battle still raging outside the fort.
They can figure all of this out later. She can figure all of this out later.
Right now, they have a battle to win.
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hi i've missed you!
can we do something soft and just cute like going for drives and getting fast food and just talking?
“I’m picking you up,” came the crackling voice from the walkie talkie on the nightstand. “Meet me at the spot in ten. Over.”
“No, you freakazoid,” Steve barely moved from his blanket cocoon, only reaching one arm out to press the button on the side. “I’m asleep.”
“Clearly not. I’m on my way, Shithead. Over and out.”
Steve rolled his eyes, and contemplated going back to sleep for all of five seconds before he sighed, and heaved himself to standing.
Curse Billy for stealing that walkie from Max, for suggesting they stay on their own channel, different than the ones the kids use. Curse Billy for his insomnia and his late night drives. Curse Billy for the way he keeps on hand on Steve’s thigh while they go and always stops at the nearest drive-thru to get Steve a milkshake and wolf down a double cheeseburger (because his dad slapped him and sent him to his room without dinner. Again.)
Steve trudged around the side of his house, crashing through the well-worn path through the sparse trees to the road on the other side.
They both agreed that Billy’s car shouldn’t be spotted outside of Steve’s house, even if they were publicly friends now.
The Camaro was rumbling up the street, and Steve could practically feel the road of the engine shake in his chest before he could even spot the headlights.
Doesn’t matter how many speeding tickets Officer Callahan gives him, Billy’s never gonna be a sensible driver.
He stops in front of Steve, and he grins as Steve joins him in the car, leaning over the center console and burying his left hand in thick, dark brown hair to kiss Steve in a way that steals the breath from his lungs.
“You owe me.”
“Yeah, yeah, Princess. I’ll get you a damn milkshake.”
The car lurched forward, and they flew down the service roads, flipping off the Leaving Hawkins sign as they went past, on their way to a different little town.
A different little slice of life.
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I think you made me start shipping Marchil
Your posts got me thinking about their dynamic then I wrote a fic that was supposed to be platonic but midway through I realized it could actually be interpreted as romantic too and now I'm just sad about how little time they'll have together
First of all, you have a lovely icon, second, I’m so honored… I finally read Not a bad way to go and it was soo so good like. My god!!! Pre-canon is underused and you did so many interesting things with it.
It sounded like a cruel joke, that the one who needed her concern the most was also the one least interested in it.
^^^ go read it go read it
Chilchuck was drunk enough that he needed to hold onto the walls not to fall, but apparently still sober enough to remember emotional vulnerability was his worst enemy, as he made sure to avert her eyes and said:
“Namari made me come talk to you ” to make it clear he wasn't being nice voluntarily.
Yeah.
“Of course I'm scared of dying.” He scoffed. Did she really think so little of him? “But if I could choose, I would want to die doing something I love, like drinking. Or maybe fucking,”
Maybe you wish you didn’t know but my new favorite HC because of this is that Chil dies yes prematurely not of liver failure though but during coitus. Especially if marchil, the thought of him busting a nut and his heart giving out makes me laugh so hard. My god. Lmao. Oh god. Lmfao. Worst day of her life
Marcille knew Chilchuck wasn't a kid, but she often struggled to take him seriously as an adult because he was just so adorable and small. In this moment, however, she saw them exactly for what they were, even if it was just a glimpse. A sheltered, naive little girl trying to tell a tired, much more experienced man how to live the rest of his life.
Standing ovation
She tried to find an explanation to give him, but she couldn't even find one for herself. Why would she miss him? He was just Chilchuck, her coworker, Chilchuck who was cold, aloof, sometimes crass, evasive, and even outright mean. He who was level headed, reliable, trustworthy, perceptive and clever. He who had the least time left, even in a best case scenario. “I guess that despite your best efforts, there's still a lot to like about you.”
This fic goes so hard, standing ovation pt 2
“I just think it's better if we don't get too close. Don't you agree?”
“I… maybe” she said, uncertain as he didn't know how to feel about that. Caring about people would only hurt her in the wrong run, she knew that, but unfortunately she couldn't help it.
I looove how they can be read to be similar on this aspect. My hand clenching around my phone as I rear up to rant about Marcille and the way she does keep people at an arm’s length subconsciously again my god my goood. Obsessed with this obsessed with this, underused for marchil. Terrified of loss through death vs rejection duo I love youuu
Brilliant ending I’m in shambles. I’m not gonna spoil it
You get marchil so much you truly do. The way they mesh, the way their views on mortality clash and both soothe & bruise… He doesn’t have much time left even in best case scenario (which Mr I won’t eat well I’ll drink and smoke a lot I’ll stress all day every day is determined to not make happen) which makes it all the more meaningful for Marcille’s arc when she learns from him to finally enjoy the present moments… It’ll only be a fraction of her life, but to him he’s giving her the rest of his life. What are some decades of love worth? Worth it, surely, if nothing else
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