#guest posts

When I first started writing fanfiction, I stuck to a pretty standard three act structure. The characters meet, they form a relationship, and then together they confront and defeat a Big Bad.

Over time, the Big Bad got more perfunctory and started to feel almost tacked-on, and then I realized that ultimately a lot of times I wasn’t interested in including one at all. But what, then, creates a satisfying story and conclusion?

For me, I realized that the key to the story I wanted to write was character development, and the “Big Bad” is something within the character that they need to either come to terms with or overcome.

This is not to say that you can’t write a good fic with an external obstacle (pandemic keeps them apart, they have a mystery to solve, they don’t know they are soulmates, they are from rival crime families, a misunderstanding makes one of them think the other is in a relationship already, etc.), but most of the time, in my recent fics at least, it is something within the character that is preventing the relationship from progressing. Until the character overcomes that obstacle within themselves, the relationship cannot progress.

So, when you’re developing your characters, what can this be? Pretty much anything that prevents people from moving forward successfully in a relationship. Some examples might be:

Depression

Fear of intimacy

Trauma

Insecurity

Self-sabotaging behaviors

Negative patterns learned in childhood

The character can overcome their obstacle individually, or with the help of the other character, or they could each be overcoming their own issues in a parallel way.

Another thing I’ve found to be helpful is to think about how your character’s greatest strength is also their greatest weakness. Do you love a character because of their loyalty? Maybe they give their loyalty to the wrong person, or are blind to someone else’s faults. Maybe they are so loyal that they become downright uncomfortably ruthless when their “person” is threatened. Do you love a character because of their strength? Maybe in order to be strong they have repressed parts of themselves. Maybe their definition of strength means not relying on other people or even trusting other people. Marvel actually does a pretty good job of this in canon — Steve Rogers’ stubbornness is his defining trait, for better or worse. Tony’s futurism saved his life but he doesn’t know when to put on the brakes. Thinking about what appeals to you about the character, but then how the extreme of that trait may play out negatively in the character’s environment or close relationships, can be a good start.

For recent fics, I’ve found it helpful to put the character arc right at the top, as a kind of “touchstone” for where I want the story to go.

For example, this was at the top of Freedom’s Reach:

Clint’s character arc — he learns to ask for what he wants not just what he thinks he can get, knows his worth

Bucky’s character arc — he opens himself up to someone, lets himself need someone, realizes he has a lot to offer

E.g.: Bucky: “People have intrinsic value!”

Clint: “Sounds fake but okay.”

Clint: “I would choose you even if I had infinite choices!”

Bucky: “Sounds fake but okay.”

If you have this character arc in mind you have already “built in” an emotionally satisfying ending! All you have to do is have the characters start in one place, defined by the obstacle, and end in a completely different place (hopefully together), defined by the success of overcoming the obstacle.

Freedom’s Reach starts with Clint desperate and alone — betrayed by his brother and the circus folk. It ends with Clint feeling secure and happy, confident in Bucky’s love. Similarly, the fic starts with Bucky alone in his empty house, isolated from his friends and leading a joyless existence. It ends with him happy and affectionate, socializing not just with Clint but with the wider world.

So, now you have your point A and your point Z, but what about all the points in between? First, ask yourself this question:

Maybe time alone is all the characters need to decide to be together now, but in a story like I’m describing usually there’s something else — they have to make their way further along the path of character progression to be at a point where they can have a successful relationship.

To be fanciful, I think of the path from A to Z as being paved with brick and mortar. First, let’s talk about the bricks.

Once you have the character arc, you have to translate it into actual events. You can’t just say in narration, “Clint used to be insecure, but now he realizes his worth — hooray!” To use the old cliche of “show, don’t tell” — you have to demonstrate through events what overcoming the obstacle will actually look like. Here are my character arcs again, this time with specific events I brainstormed that would represent points along the journey:

Clint’s character arc — he learns to ask for what he wants not just what he thinks he can get, knows his worth

forming friendships (Widow, etc.)

realizing he has value beyond his usefulness to others

standing up to Barney

culminating in asking Bucky to keep him

Bucky’s character arc — he opens himself up to someone, lets himself need someone, realizes he has a lot to offer

lets Clint see him in a vulnerable state (in pain after nightmare)

pushes himself out of his comfort zone in order to make Clint happy (using his words, going to the dance)

talks about Andersonville, which early in the fic it is made clear he never does

culminating in asking Clint to stay and saying he’ll follow him if he doesn’t

Next, to construct your Character Arc Pathway, you need to set these bricks in place with the “mortar,” which is the character’s state of mind. You first have to establish their beginning state of mind to make it clear what their obstacle is, and then over time you need to show that their state of mind is changing.

Let’s use some examples in Freedom’s Reach. First, there are Clint’s thoughts that show how desperate and alone he is:

He lies down on the rickety cot, suddenly exhausted. He’s used to scraping by, but it’s always been him and Barney, scraping by together. Even before the circus, when they were kids catching and eating rats to fill their bellies, they were in it together. Clint squeezes his eyes shut but the tears are already welling up.

He’s been trying not to think about it, trying to focus on just surviving, but at times like this, when he’s too tired to keep the thoughts at bay, they overwhelm him.

Bucky starts out as a less reliable narrator. He’s in a “I’m fine, everything’s fine, I am happy here behind the walls I’ve constructed from my own trauma” state of mind. For him, it requires an outside character to point out that his life is not as peachy as he is trying to pretend it is:

“It shouldn’t have happened this way,” Steve agrees. “But Bucky, I just wanted to show you that there’s more out there than you’re considering. I don’t like to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

Steve sighs. “Bitter. Withdrawn. Like you’ve given up on anything good ever happening to you.”

“I like my life, Stevie,” Bucky says wearily. He’s said it hundreds of times, but Steve can’t seem to get it through his thick skull.

Steve pushes up on one elbow. “What you’re doing here — it isn’t living. It’s just waitin’ to die.”

As the fic plays out, you want to see the characters slowly adopting a new mindset, through both thoughts and actions.

Clint starts the fic basically not familiar with the concept of intrinsic worth. Because it’s what he’s experienced so far, he feels that people only want him around because of what he can provide to them, and that the moment he stops being useful he’ll be abandoned. So, how do you make that kind of mindset clear?

First, Clint’s train of thought — in every situation he immediately tries to think how he can make himself useful:

And Clint is young, and healthy. He’s a hard worker. It must be difficult, having only one arm. Maybe the man just wants someone to do for him, help out with simple things he can no longer do on his own.

He covers up his hearing loss because he perceives it as a weakness that will lead to rejection:

“Do you think I should mention my poor hearing?”

“Perhaps — perhaps that’s something you could save for when you meet in person. Just in case,” she finally decides.

“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Just in case it makes him not want you, is what she means, and she’s probably right.

He panics once he realizes that he does not have skills that are useful in the situation he ends up in:

This all seemed so possible when Miss Lewis was helping him, but now she is all the way in Philadelphia, and he is here, and James is — James is not at all what he expected. James is not even James, he’s Bucky. In Clint’s imagination James was homely and poor and kind and desperate for companionship, but Bucky is handsome and rich and brusque and he doesn’t want Clint at all.

When Bucky points out the Clint has low expectations, Clint doesn’t even seem to understand what the alternative is:

“How come you don’t think about what you actually want, just what you think you can get?”

Clint doesn’t understand. What point is there in thinking about things you want? Nobody gets what they want.

And ultimately, when pushed to the breaking point, he comes right out and expresses this philosophy:

Clint’s expression flattens, a muscle clenching in his jaw. He looks away, flushing, his hands balling into fists before he shoves them into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “What do you think anyone is, except for whatever use other people make of them?” he finally says, his voice sharp.

Even when Bucky flat-out tells Clint that his worth doesn’t depend on his usefulness, Clint can’t come to terms with it. He interprets it through the lens of his mindset, which is that he has to be even MORE useful.

You shouldn’t put your value in what other people want from you, Bucky had said. The words just don’t make any sense to Clint. What value does he have, if it’s not his skill with a bow, or his strong back, or his ability to bring someone pleasure in bed? It’s like Bucky is speaking a foreign language, setting some standard that Clint can’t even comprehend, let alone reach.

He clenches his jaw, firming his resolve. He’s got no one to rely on but himself anymore, and it means he’s just got to be better, is all. He knows for sure now that Bucky is attracted to him — no one can fake that. He just needs to find something to offer Bucky beyond his body, something that makes him worth having around long-term.

He just needs to be good enough to keep.

So how does Clint’s mindset change? First, he realizes he has more to offer people. He develops friendships outside of the relationship (e.g. with Natasha and Wyatt Wingfoot) that aren’t given in exchange for any skills or usefulness.

Next, he realizes that Bucky wants him around even when it is inconvenient. Even when he fails at household chores, or brings on the extra burden of Lucky, or Barney shows up to bring chaos, Bucky stands by Clint.

With a little bit of security at his back, Clint starts to realize that he is worth more than he’s been told. He has made true friends in the town, and he realizes that Barney is no good for him. Ultimately, despite misunderstandings, he asks for what he truly wants, and he gets it. He’s not with Bucky because he has no other options. He recognizes many other options he has, but he chooses to ask Bucky for his love, and receives it in return.

In the meantime, Bucky is progressing along his own path. When the fic starts he is disconnected from his friends, taking solace only in his work. He’s cut himself off from a lot of the little things that used to bring him joy. He has trouble expressing himself, and that slows things down considerably because he is not good about conveying how he feels. He tries to communicate with Clint through actions — accommodating his hearing loss, reading to him, buying him a bow. Clint reintroduces him to some of the things in life he didn’t realize he was missing, but for the romance to be satisfying they both have to convey that they are choosing the other person specifically, and not just out of convenience. So, Bucky finally finds his words and can tell Clint what he loves about him — a level of explicit explanation Clint, in his insecurity, requires. All the things he starts the fic saying are good enough to make him happy in his life — his house, his job — are things he’s willing to leave behind for Clint.

A final note about “satisfying” endings. It may be tempting to think that solving all a character’s problems results in a happy ending. Someone wins the lottery, and all their financial concerns disappear! They have a wedding and a baby and live happily ever after! There’s a few reasons that these endings are not really as satisfying as they may seem on the surface.

First, to be truly satisfying, an ending needs to be earned. You need to see how the character’s actions directly resolved the problem and led to their changed circumstance.

Second, endings are often most satisfying when they allow the characters to live on in your head in the way you got to know and love them. If you end a fic with everything completely different, it can also feel unsatisfying. You want to leave the characters at the next logical step, better than they were, but not completely changed or untethered from their prior circumstances.

Recommendations for fics with central themes of character development:

Clint Barton’s Super Secret Sniper’s Club by @captn-sara-holmes​

Like Real People Do by @kangofu-cb​

Starving for the Light by @thepartyresponsible​

Superior by @teeelsie-posts​

Choose Every Single Day by @noxnthea​

Symbiotic by @lissadiane​