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seizethesam · 4 years ago

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Ode to an Angel-Chapter 9

A/N: Hello everyone! After a week, chapter 9 is here for all of you to read and enjoy! I hope you will like ‘cause it’s an angsty one! Thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging, and of course leaving comments! You honestly make my day better and truly motivate me to continue writing! Thanks!

Happy reading.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Warning: Death. Buckle up, it’s angsty with some gore!

The recommended song for this chapter is Make It Rain by Foy Vance.

Chapter 8

Gif's not mine*

Chapter 9

“No way.”

“Hey, calm down alright, I’ll go with him.”

“This is a shitty plan Y/N and he’s dragging you with him,” Glenn talked as anger took over him. He and Maggie had been through so much since returning from Woodbury. He was on edge.

“No, I’m going with him to make sure he doesn’t screw up,” you reassured him with a low voice.

You did everything in your power to prevent any scene between Glenn, Maggie, and Merle. “You, let’s go,” you said pointing your finger at Merle, sounding a lot harsher.

“Whatever ya say, peach,” he said as he eyed you. He left the cellblock ahead.

“I’ll be careful, okay? Don’t worry.” You told your friends as you hugged them one by one and went after Merle.

When you came near one of the cars, he extended his hand to driver door. “Hey! What are you doing?” you yelled, as you rushed to his side.

“Somethin’ wrong sweetheart? I ain’t doing anythin’.”

“I’m not letting you drive.”

He looked at you surprised but raised his arms in defeat and moved to the passenger side.

Merle was suspiciously quite for the first few minutes of the drive which was very unusual for him to ever shut his mouth. It was the least you’d learnt about him in two days.

“You think you can kill him?” you asked out of the blue, “the Governor?” you weren’t sure if it was smart to get him talk.

“So yer bangin’ my lil’ bro, huh?” he didn’t answer your question, instead he put one topic that you’ve been dreading for the past few days.

Now that you’d ruined everything, you weren’t.

The kiss with Daryl wasn’t like how you hoped it would be. The minute your lips touched his, he became stiff as a brick wall. He didn’t move, he didn’t’ breathe. He definitely didn’t kiss you back either. It was a moment of utter embarrassment.

You had left him where you’d kissed him when you realized he wasn’t even looking at you. He was just staring at his feet. You were a jabbering figure of awkwardness with all your ‘I’m sorry’s, ‘umm, shit’s, oh god’s.

You didn’t see Daryl that night, and the day after that he was gone with Rick to talk to the Governor. A part of you wanted to talk to him about the kiss, about everything to clear the air between you and him, another part of you hated yourself for ruining the friendship you had with him.

“If you must know, no,” you answered as you tightened your grip on the steering wheel. “It’s not like that.”

Not anymore, it wasn’t.

“He don’ belong with y’all people, ya play with him all ya want, but I’m his damn brother,” there he was. He talked as he kept his gaze on the road.

“So why couldn’t you be a brother when he needed you,” you said, voice a little bit louder that you’d expected.

He just laughed with his raspy voice. “Sweetheart, there’s a whole damn lot you don’ know about us, ya best keep yer pretty mouth shut,” he warned as he reached the inside of his boots and drew out a large blade, his face was turned to you all the while.

You didn’t respond, you just chewed your bottom lip and looked at the road.

He sharpened the blade with the metal around his arm creating an annoying shinking sound, almost fatal. When he was done, he shoved the blade inside his metal armor and started to secure it with duct tape.

“Was afraid I’d kill him, or somethin’” he started speaking, surprising you, “my pops.” You refused to say anything, wanting him to continue.

“He was a real piece a’shit, I didn’t know he was doin’ tha’ same shit ta him,” he continued taping his blade, he was taping a little too much.

“Doing what?” you finally asked.

He let out a raspy chuckle, “see hon, whole damn lot ya don’ know,” he teared the rest of the tape and threw the remaining out through the windowpane.

“Left here?” you asked as you drove through the forest.

“Ya got it,” he replied, and you turned the steering wheel to left.

The next few minutes were quiet, which you appreciated. You didn’t have the energy to put up with Merle’s bullshit. But he didn’t feel like talking, either. His lips were a straight line and the lines on his forehead were even more visible due to his frown. You could say that he looked nervous.

After a while he finally spoke.

“Now,” he raised his voice, “Sorry ta ruin tha’ pretty face like yers, but I gotta do this alone, sweetheart,” he continued as he turned his body towards you in his seat.

“What—” you couldn’t even process what he was saying when you saw his good hand approaching your face with a fist. Then everything went to black.

Smoke. Smoke and gasoline.

That was everything. Smell of smoke and gasoline. No, that wasn’t all. You realized the throbbing pain on your right temple. So, you were alive.

Where the hell were you?

You weren’t dead. You weren’t sleeping in your bed, either. You were sitting, no you were stooping. And your head was on a somewhat uncomfortable place.

You fluttered your eyes and saw the blurry gear shift. You’re in a car. That’s good. Then you remembered.

Merle.

Shit.

You snapped open your eyes with realization and lifted your head from the uncomfortable place, the steering wheel. The sudden movement made your head dizzy, the seat beneath you were sliding under you. He punched you right in the face.

Now, he was gone.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you held your head in between your hands and saw the blood. You checked yourself of the rearview mirror. Blood were spilling down the left side of your forehead and there was dry blood on your right eyebrow, where Merle had hit you.

You could sense the black eye coming.

You were awakened, but the smell of smoke and gasoline was still here. And that was when you saw the smoke raising out of the hood. The car was crashed against a tree and the gas tank was probably leaking.

“Fuck,” you cursed, this time much louder. You needed to get out of the car before it blew up.

You started fumbling with your seatbelt buckle. You were pushing and pulling, but it wasn’t coming off. “Come on,” you groaned. With one last strong pull you were able to get out of the seatbelt.

You turned left and opened the door to get out but just as the door was opened just an inch, a walker threw itself on the door and closed it back. There were two more behind it, limping towards the car. “Okay,” you gasped and pushed yourself towards the passenger door, which was open.

You summed up your remaining strength and threw yourself out. The three walkers were still scratching and scraping the driver door.

You got up and started limping away from the car as fast as you could. You turned to see the car, and the minute you turned your head, the car went up in flames along with the three walkers with a horrid boom that almost made you go deaf.

The hotness of the explosion surrounded you as you started walking again. You needed to arrive at the meeting place as soon as possible. You already screwed up, allowing Merle to take off without you.

You weren’t close but you weren’t far either, maybe half an hour walk if you were lucky.

By the time you got there, the place were already emptied out. There were few of the dead ones on the floor. The skull of one of them was bashed on the wall, the others looked like knives.

Where was everyone?

You didn’t expect this place to be so quiet. You didn’t want to admit but you were scared that it was so silent. You walked through the small building to get to backyard. There, you saw the angel wings.

He was kneeling in front of a body, not making a sound. No. Was he? No! Your steps were slow and silent, and hesitant to see what was in front of you.

“Daryl?” you called for him, but your voice was not loud enough. He didn’t move. Was this a good thing? “Daryl?” you tried again.

His face slowly turned to your direction and you shut your eyes closed. You weren’t ready for this. “I ain’t dead,” he growled, and you sighed, feeling the weight lifted from your chest.

You took another step towards him and finally saw the body. The sight brought shivers down your spine and created a lump in your throat. Instantly, your hand went to your gaping mouth. Merle. He was lying dead on the floor with a hole in his chest and a bashed skull.

His brother, his fucking brother was dead, and he had to put him down. You were out of words to say. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you still had your voice to speak. The only thing you did was kneeling next to him.

He was scooping in front of the body and had his palms facing up on his thighs.

You’d lost your brother once, but he lost his twice. There was no comparing in grief, but he had a second chance with him to maybe make things right. For the second time he was gone, for good this time. Nothing you said could make him feel better, so you didn’t try. You were just there for him. You were there. He wasn’t alone. And that was enough.

After what seemed like hours you shifted your weight on one leg and turned to him.

“Come on get up,” you whispered as you put a hand on his shoulder. He got up from the floor with your help even though, he didn’t need you supporting him but he didn’t flinch away either. “We’re gonna bury him alright?” you suggested.

“Nah, s’ waste a’time,” you murmured.

“No,” your voice was a little harsher than you’d expected, “we are going to bury him.”

Even though you didn’t know Merle that much, he deserved a proper grave. Or it could be just a personal matter now, your brother didn’t get to have a grave, so you made sure Daryl’s had.

He didn’t try to argue with you. He sensed the confidence in your voice. You looked around for something to cover the body, not wanting Daryl to see his brother like that anymore. You gazed around the area and saw a large tarp at the back of a beat-up truck.

You walked up to the truck dragged the tarp out. It was heavy in your hands. Daryl saw you having trouble in carrying the thick layers of plastic sheets and came to you to help you carry the load.

You carefully wrapped the body and carried it back the truck. In the meantime, neither you nor Daryl said a word. You two were moving synchronized like all of the movements were scripted. You didn’t need to say anything.

The sun was getting lower and lower. There wasn’t time to find any place to bury the body. Even if you’d found a place you didn’t have shovels. So, you suggested to go to prison and bury him there, next to the others.

The archer seemed to hesitate at first but subtly nodded.

By the time you had gotten to the prison, the sun was barely holding up on the horizon. You waved at Maggie as she opened up the gate for you without saying anything. You drove the truck next to the graves and got out, Daryl following you.

He opened the back of the truck and dragged the body of his brother out while you took the shovels from the ground next to the fences. He took one and started to dig.

You continued not to say anything during the burial. You stood up and looked at Daryl as he shoved the last shovels of dirt on the grave and finished burying. He looked tired and somewhat angry. The lines around his face visible, even though the sky was even darker.

It had pained you to see him like this, for the first time you preferred to see him pissed off rather than like this; upset and broken.

There were so much that you wanted to tell him.

It wasn’t easy to get over what he was going through. You’d known. You were just getting over yourself. And you wanted to help him out, take his hands and drag him with you to the sunlight, to the comfort of people who still loved and cared about him.

He stood straight and looked back at you, chewing his lip. He wanted to talk but the words got stuck in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Your voice cracked, not being able to carry the weight of all the other things not being said.

He responded with a nod and that was enough.

He knew you were there for him.

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seizethesam · 4 years ago

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Next chapter comes this Sunday!

Ode to an Angel-Chapter 8

A/N: Hello! I have been away due to some problems. I wasn’t able to upload new chapters because I didn’t have my laptop with me. But I’m back!! I kind of tried Daryl’s pov in this chapter and I’m honestly happy about! I hope you’ll like it too!

From now on, new chapters will be posted every Sunday! So Chapter 9 will pe posted August 9th. As always, the feedback is always appreciated! Love you! Happy reading!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Warning: None!

The recommended song for this chapter is Touch by Daughter.

Chapter 7

Gif is not mine*

Chapter 8

Pink morning clouds were hanging in the Georgian sky, slowly following the East wind. Everyone in the prison were in rush to get ready for the fight with the Governor.

You’d just came back from Woodbury yesterday; it has been a day since Daryl had left with his brother, Merle. Carol and Axel were in the field, talking. Beth and Carl were in one corner, and Hershel was in the prison field.

He was talking about making this place our permanent home, about growing crops and plants to eat, about making it a living place. And wanted it, too. But the Governor…you had to fight the Governor first.

And you were just finished with placing the wooden pallets to cover yourselves when the fight comes eventually.

Your mind was at Daryl every second since yesterday. Was he alright? Of course, he was alright, he was Daryl. Was he happy about his decision? You didn’t know.

Okumaya devam et

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seizethesam · 4 years ago

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Ode to an Angel-Chapter 8

From now on, new chapters will be posted every Sunday! So Chapter 9 will pe posted August 9th. As always, the feedback is always appreciated! Love you! Happy reading!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Warning: None!

The recommended song for this chapter is Touch by Daughter.

Chapter 7

Gif is not mine*

Chapter 8

Pink morning clouds were hanging in the Georgian sky, slowly following the East wind. Everyone in the prison were in rush to get ready for the fight with the Governor.

And you were just finished with placing the wooden pallets to cover yourselves when the fight comes eventually.

Your mind was at Daryl every second since yesterday. Was he alright? Of course, he was alright, he was Daryl. Was he happy about his decision? You didn’t know.

It surprised you to realize how much it hurt you to see him go like that. You tried to deny the feelings you had for Daryl, pretended to not know that you’d, in fact, liked him very much, and cared about him more than anything in the world.

You stopped ignoring the fact, simply because he was gone. You didn’t have to fear that you would get too close and end up hurt.

But you did end up hurt, even though you tried not to get close. You pushed the thought to back of your mind.

You saw Rick outside the fences, not understanding what he was doing. He was, still, in a bad state. When you’d returned from Woodbury yesterday, there were a bunch of people who Carl let in. They were fairly in bad shape and had told you that they had just lost someone.

You believed them to be good people; they were willing to help you with anything and said they would live far away from you as possible. It was a reasonable decision to accept them. You needed the numbers against the Governor.

But Rick…Well, Rick was at somewhere else. He was acting crazy, and all of a sudden, he started shouting. At first, you took it in stride. The guy had just lost his wife. He was healing, he’d held his daughter for the first time and returned to business.

The thing that bent you out of shape was the look on his face. You understood that he didn’t trust those people, that he didn’t want to help them. You truly understood him. However, he didn’t understand any of you.

The way he looked at Hershel when he told him to be in charge, it was as if he looked at a child who wouldn’t stop making a noise about something. You hated it. It was the look that Gareth had gave you and your brother.

You needed to talk to him. He saved you once, and now he was one of the things that kept you going. You couldn’t lose him too. Glenn held you back the first time, but now, he wasn’t here to keep you from talking to Rick. You started walking towards his direction, and used the breach to get out of the fences.

He was moving his arms around and murmuring something when you approached him from behind. He didn’t seem to hear you coming through the fences.

“Everything okay?” you asked, making him turn to you.

“Yea,” he replied. He was now facing you, but he turned his head to check behind him, then turned back to you.

Your gaze was on him, studying him. It was like you were getting to know him all over again. “Are you sure?” you didn’t want to push his buttons, but you were worried about him at the same time. You didn’t want to lose him too.

“I said it’s fine, don’t bother yourself, Y/N,” he said, checking his back. There was this look again. The same look he gave Hershel the other day. And it was enough to let your anger out.

You sighed as you spoke, “I don’t like the way you look at me, Rick,” the words poured one by one, “in fact, I don’t like the way you look at any of us,” you sounded pissed and you were.

He didn’t reply and kept the look on his face.

“It’s like we’re all bunch of idiots who don’t know any better,” you continued, “but let me tell you, we do, and we’re doing a lot better than you are,” you couldn’t stop yourself.

He frowned, trying to process your words, “Look—” he tried to speak but you stopped him.

“No, I’m not done, I know it’s hard, and I know you’re grieving, but you can’t treat us like that,” the look was gone, he didn’t look angry anymore, he just looked- sad. And it broke your heart. “We could’ve helped those people, and they could’ve helped us. We can’t give up on who we—”

Rick’s eyes widened when a gunshot interrupted you. He got a hold of your arm and pushed you behind him. Your hand found its way to the pistol that was strapped around your thigh in its holster when you saw the Governor holding a machine gun aimed at the prison field. You saw Axel’s body falling to the ground.

“Get back!” Rick shouted at you through the noise of gunshots.

You ran into the longer pieces of grass and threw yourselves on the ground. “Shit!” you cried as you fell on your left elbow. Rick was just a foot away from you next to the bridge.

“I see him,” he whisper shouted as he loaded his rifle. He straightened up, aiming at the woods. He had shot a few bullets when more came your way.

“Get the fuck down,” you yelled, putting emphasis on each word.

A few minutes later the gunshots were over. You waited for a few seconds to wait for another round of fires. It didn’t come. The atmosphere was so quite now that you could hear your own hear beat.

Then an ice cream truck came over with full speed and entered the prison field, tearing down the fences. You got up on your knees to get a better look on the the truck, sporting yourself with one hand on the fence.

Moments later, the back of the truck opened to let out dozens of the walkers inside the fences.

“Hershel, get out of there!” Rick shouted.

“Rick,” you called up when you saw another dozen of walkers approaching out from the woods. You started to shoot them one by one until your bullets ran out, as well as Rick’s.

You started to make your way towards the small breach on the fences, but soon your tracks were stopped by more walkers. You drew your hunting knife from your belt and shoved it through the skull of one of them, and Rick handled another one with the back of his gun.

Rick was walking in front of you when one of the walkers got a grip of the fabric of your shirt. Thankfully, you were faster than the dead. You kicked it on its chest, making him fall into the brook.

You were about to take another one, but you heard a familiar whistle and the walker fell on the ground with a bolt in its skull.

You wondered if you were in the same state as Rick was… imagining things. But no… you wouldn’t imagine the man with the blade for a hand. But he was attacking the walkers one by one.

Then, your eyes landed on the archer, loading his crossbow and shooting a clean headshot on another walker.

---

Daryl wasn’t happy to see his brother behind the bars in the prison, though it wasn’t an unusual view for him. He had gone to several police stations for a number of times to bail Merle out.

Even though Merle was the older brother, Daryl had found himself looking after him multiple times, whether it’d be picking him up from shitty parties or from jail. It was fine with him, didn’t have anything better to do anyway, he always thought.

But now, the things were different. He’d got whole bunch of people to look after. People who seemed to care about him. Although, he didn’t make up his mind why? Why would they care about him?

And then, there were you. You had showed him that you’d cared about him. You didn’t want him going with Merle. It stunned him so much that he didn’t know what to say. Why would you want him to stay anyway? You were far more capable of taking care of yourself and the other around you. You didn’t need him, he thought.

You were college educated, knowledgeable woman who knew when to say what that he didn’t understand why you cared about him, an old dirty redneck.

But at the same time, he’d found himself caring deeply about you. When he was out there with Merle, he couldn’t stop thinking about you for a second. Just for a moment, he considered not going with Merle, just for you, he wouldn’t go.

He realized that he would rather die than to see your eyes shine with tears of sadness. He would rather see them glow with life when you’d smile at him. He would walk through fire just to make sure you were okay without thinking twice about it.

Merle was sticking his arms through the metal bars, supporting his weight, “lordy be, where’s tha’ peach ya been talkin’ about, lil bro?”

“Shut up, man,” Daryl warned his big brother before walking out of the cellblock with you.

He walked towards the exit door of the cellblock, one hand on the strap of his crossbow, watching his steps. He opened the door and bumped into a smaller figure. He lifted his head and saw you. “Oh, sorry,” you said with a soft smile.

And there you were standing in front of him, with a little smile on your lips, smile that outshined the sun itself, Daryl thought to himself.

“Nah, s’ fine,” Daryl talked with his usual southern drawl, then moved aside to make room for you to go your way, so you did.

Daryl felt the heat spread through his body, to his chest, his back, and his ears. There he was again, not knowing what to do with himself. He stood next to the open door and watched you walk away from him. He couldn’t have his limbs moving, couldn’t go his way, just kept watching you leave.

Then, to his surprise, you stopped and turned back to him. You walked and stood right in front of him. He didn’t even time to get embarrassed about getting caught watching you.

You started speaking, “can I talk to you?” He couldn’t properly see you since his return to the prison because of all that was happening. But in reality, he didn’t know what to do or say.

“mm, hmm,” Daryl hummed as a response and you took him by the hand and dragged him outside the cellblock. The area was lonely, it was just the two of you.

You let go of his hand once you were outside, but Daryl still felt the warmth of your palm. How could he not? It felt like the sunlight on his skin. He couldn’t’ believe how everything about you was glowy like the sun.

Daryl looked at the sky when he realized he was looking at you for too long.The Georgian sun had left its place to red clouds and navy sky.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you started, “here with us.” He looked back at you when you spoke.

Daryl wondered how a human voice could be so soothing. “Never shoulda left,” he mumbled.

“No, that’s the thing,” you were looking at him in the eye, “you were right, it’s your brother. I was being selfish.” You finished.

“Ya ain’t selfish,” in Daryl’s eyes, you didn’t have one selfish bone in you.

Daryl didn’t move his gaze away from you, scared that you would disappear any time.

“I am so happy you’re here,” you said again as you hugged him. Your voice was lower than before.

Your arms were wrapped around his large figure, as you placed your chin on his shoulder. Daryl held his breath, not wanting to let you know how his heart started pacing. Suddenly, he was wrapped around a cloud of warmth. He gave in and hesitantly put his arms on your back.

You stayed in the comfort of his embrace for a while, and Daryl wasn’t complaining.

His arms unwrapped as you slowly pulled away from the hug, your cheek brushing his. Just as Daryl was about to break the hug, you pressed your lips against his.

He was petrified, unable to move. But the thought was that if you could feel his heart bumping in his chest and how soft your lips were.

Chapter 9

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Let me know if you want to be tagged!

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seizethesam · 4 years ago

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Chapter 8 will be posted tomorrow!

Ode to an Angel-Chapter 7

A/N: Hello again! We are almost halfway there!! Chapter 7 here, I hope you will enjoy it! This is another experimental chapter for me! Ode to an Angel has been a way to experiment on my writing!! As always, the feedback is always appreciated! Love you! Happy reading!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Warning: Non, I guess, maybe a little bit angst.

The recommended song is Ruby’s Arms by Tom Waits!!!!

Chapter 6

Then…

“Why did ya stop?” he asked.

It was the same question you’d kept asking yourself when you’d first joined the group. Eventually you had found the answer.

“What I’ve found turned out to be way more important than a revenge,” you spoke, turning your face to him.

He was watching the dark forest while chewing his tongue. He looked… beautiful under the moonlight.

You watched him for a while, put your head on his shoulder. He flinched at the sudden contact but eased into it after a while.

Then you held his hand.

Now…

Chapter 7

“Hey, you wanna see a very impressive craftsmanship,” you said smiling to the man who was loading wild pumpkins on the back of the truck.

You were in a field not so far away from the prison that Glenn and Rick had spotted a few days back. The area wasn’t a plantation, but just a dumpster people used throw in rotten vegetables.

“C’mon,” Daryl gestured you to start the show. His features lacked any hint of excitement.

You cut a little piece of branch from the pumpkin plant and showed Daryl the inside of the branch. “See, the inside is hollow,” you did all this so dramatically like it was a cheap workshop that a little faint smile appeared on the archer’s lips.

You cut a semicircle whole at the end of the piece. You looked around the field to see if there was any walkers- there was one fairly far away from you. Then you blew air into the little hallow piece of branch. A very annoying, not too loud, borazon like sound came out.

“Huh? It’s a whistle,” you concluded, very proud of yourself.

He scoffed; “S’ impressive.”

“I know,” you said, lifting one brow at him, playfully. “Matt used to do that when we were kids.”

He looked at you confused. You realized you’d never told him his name, “my brother,” you explained.

“It’s practical,” he nodded, “all my brother had taught me was how ta drink and pick locks,” he said.

All the time you’d spend with Daryl, he’d never mentioned he had a brother. Had. You wondered what more there was to discover about this extraordinary man.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

“S’ alright, he was an asshole,” he said, bending down to pick up another pumpkin. He turned body away from you. He was uncomfortable.

“Daryl,” you called him. He didn’t look at you. You wanted to tell him that it’s okay to open up, that it’s alright if he’s hurt or anything.

But you didn’t. he would talk to you when he wanted to talk to you. You decided on not pushing on it.

“Here, take this,” you said, instead, and offered him the handmade whistle, “in case you need me to save you. Just blow it,” you finished, giving him a smirk.

He scoffed at your sudden playfulness but took the whistle anyway and placed it in the pocket of his vest.

“I’ll keep it,” he muttered before he bent down to grab the large pumpkin.

Okumaya devam et

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seizethesam · 4 years ago

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Hey!! I wasn't able to post the next chapter of Ode to an Angel for a while because I didn't have access to my computer. Good News!! Tomorrow I will take back my computer from my old house! I hope to post chapter 8 as soon as possible! Take care!!

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seizethesam · 4 years ago

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Reblog if you are a fanfiction author and would like your readers to put one of your fic titles in your ask + questions about it

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seizethesam · 4 years ago

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So helpful, so stimulating! Great job! 🌿

how to keep people in character: a guide

I have gotten some requests for advice on how to write specific characters, but the underlying principles to keeping characterizations canon-compliant can apply to writing anyone in any series. Better yet, this advice may help you come up with character interpretations that feel both canonical yet original (and distinct from mine!).

You can reduce characterization to three basic principles:

1) Habits and speech patterns

Habits and speech patterns serve as “shortcuts” that immediately connect the character to the canon. The audience recognizes these cues and will associate them to the actual character.

Speech patterns are particularly important to keeping a character recognizable. As soon as the speech pattern of a person deviates from canon with no explanation, the suspension of disbelief will break for an audience. A common issue I see in shipping fics is that people will make a character give the love interest a pet name that just would never leave their mouth in canon-compliant situations.

Habits can be verbal tics (e.g. they say “babe” a lot), bodily motions (e.g. touching their hair or pushing up their glasses), behavioural trends (e.g. eating a lot), or even phrases that come up often. The latter I find is underused but very effective. Here’s the thing about people in real life: they will repeat phrases and stories, sometimes even verbatim, to different people! If you lift a line out of the show or book and re-contextualize it, it’ll immediately feel like the canon.

Habits come with two caveats:

Do not overuse the tics. It can be annoying and intrusive, especially when used more frequently than in canon!

Do not rely too much on these habits for characterization. Your character may come off as a shallow imitation of canon without “substance” if so.

The next two tips will help give your characterization substance and originality.

2) Drivers in decision-making and thought patterns

People in real life often have patterns in the decisions they make or the thoughts they have because of some kind of underlying motivation, whether or not they are cognizant of it. The same will apply to well-written characters in fiction. Try to think about any significant decisions the character makes in canon and why they might exist. (Hot tip: If these motivations are not explicitly stated in the canon material, this is where you can come up with some extremely juicy headcanons!)

Understanding the fundamental drivers behind the character’s actions will allow you to extrapolate and write what they’d do in the situations in your fanfic. These non-canon situations can include relationships! It’s a common issue for romantic relationships in fanfic to feel OOC because the characters act inconsistently with their canon decision-making and thought patterns solely for their love interest.

Examples of common drivers in fiction:

Abstract values such as freedom, revenge, survival, self-preservation. (If you’re writing anything political, try to figure out how they value conservatism vs liberalism, anarchy vs authoritarianism, etc).

Baggage and trauma relating to familial issues or past relationships, which can often result in maladaptive trends in behaviour or hard-lined moral codes and ideals.

Significant relationships that affect their needs, goals, etc. Pay attention to platonic, familial, or romantic bonds that are strongly featured in the canon.

All these examples are interrelated. Often our abstract values will arise from baggage, which then influence relationships, which in turn influence our values. Try to think about how each of these types of drivers may relate to one another for your characters.

Stories tend to have the most layered characterizations when the author has identified two drivers that are in conflict with one another, or one that leads to opposing behaviours. This can also be the starting point for character growth, whether it’s a hero’s journey or descent into a villain role.

3) Cultural context

Cultural context is a subcategory of drivers that I often find is overlooked.

The culture in which someone was raised will often influence their decision-making habits, whether they conform to it or outright reject it. Recognizing the cultural context for a character can be very useful for figuring out cool little headcanons or extrapolating behaviour/opinions in the absence of canon material.

Some examples of how culture contributes to behaviour:

The kind of art and hobbies they enjoy, or at least are on their radar.

Knowledge they would have about certain topics—even mundane things like musical instruments, certain skill sets, etc.

Their judgments on themselves and other characters, as well as the values they’d project onto their relationships.

The actions they would take when trying to conform to social norms of the time period—or even the set of actions that might occur to them!

It’s a pet peeve of mine when characters behave in a way that ignores their cultural context, simply because it won’t feel realistic! Since I’ve been relating this to shipping, I will make this point: what time period and country (or coded culture) is this character in? What are courtship norms like? And, if we’re going to go the nsfw route, what “interests” (haha) would exist?

Here are some quick examples of this analysis applied to two different characters: Hakuryuu Ren (Magi), Daryl Dixon (TWD). These are characters I’ve gotten requests for—let me know if anyone is interested in others!

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