Why I Love Morally Grey Characters Who Choose Right
Some of the most unforgettable characters in fiction are not shining heroes or irredeemable villains, but the ones who live in the uncomfortable space between. The morally grey character who stumbles, compromises, and flirts with darkness before finally choosing to do the right thing often leaves the deepest mark on readers. These characters resonate because their failures feel human and their redemptive moments feel earned.
In today’s blog, Ginger looks at why readers never seem to tire of watching flawed characters rise to the occasion when it matters most, and why authors return to this arc again and again as a powerful storytelling tool. Using familiar examples, he explores how to build genuine moral ambiguity, ground questionable choices in understandable motivations, and craft redemptive decisions that feel costly, intentional, and true to the character. By examining what these moments reveal about choice, consequence, and growth, it becomes clear why morally grey characters connect so deeply with readers and why they deserve a place in your own stories.
I’ve written before about bad guys you love to hate, and how satisfying a really villainous character can be to read and write about. This week, I wanted to focus on another type of character not too far removed from that: The morally grey character who ends up making the right decision in the end.
You know the kind of character I’m talking about. Han Solo, in the original Star Wars, turning around to help Luke blow up the Death Star rather than save his own hide by repaying Jabba the Hutt. Or Indiana Jones in The Temple of Doom, abandoning “fortune and glory” to restore life and abundance to a starving Indian village.
Presumably there are other examples not played by Harrison Ford.
Regardless, there’s a particular moment in storytelling that never fails to move me. I love to read about characters teetering on the edge between darkness and light and finally choosing the path of redemption, often being instrumental to the triumph of good over evil.
These types of characters are so much more compelling than a hero who’s always good, or a villain who always remains irredeemable. Morally grey characters are beautifully flawed souls caught between the spectrum of light and darkness. They’re often achingly relatable and when (at the crucial moment) they make the choice that’s right instead of easy, it can be incredibly satisfying and validating.
That’s why I’d like to explore how to create memorable, emotionally resonant characters like this, because mastering this sort of redemptive arc can be one of the most powerful tools in fiction.
The Archetype in Action
Boromir from The Lord of the Rings stands as perhaps the quintessential example of this trope.
Right from his introduction, Tolkien establishes him as fundamentally good—a valiant warrior defending his people—yet deeply flawed. His desire to use the One True Ring to save Gondor leads him to attempt taking it from Frodo, by force!
This moment is shocking precisely because we know how noble Boromir is, yet we also understand his desperation, his love for his homeland, and how the Ring exploits and perverts these noble impulses.
But Boromir’s story doesn’t end with his corruption. Instead, he dies defending Merry and Pippin from Uruk-hai, finally free from the Ring’s influence and his honor restored through self-sacrifice.
Severus Snape from the Harry Potter series offers another masterclass in moral ambiguity resolved through ultimate sacrifice. For six books, we questioned his loyalties, witnessing his acts of cruelty against Harry juxtaposed by the things he did to protect The Boy Who Lived.
His final revelation and his moment of redemption—during which we learn that everything Snape did stemmed from his love of Harry’s mother and a secret commitment to Dumbledore’s cause—recontextualizes Snape’s entire arc and makes us reexamine everything we thought we knew about him.
J.K. Rowling makes us work to understand Snape, never excusing his treatment of students, yet ultimately showing us a man willing to make the hardest choice knowing he’d receive no recognition for it.
Another favorite of mine is Jaime Lannister from George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire. He begins as an apparent villain, a man willing to push a child from a window, and who killed the king he was sworn to protect.
Yet Martin gradually reveals the layers: Jaime killed the Mad King to save King’s Landing from wildfire, an act of heroism that earned him only scorn. His journey toward honor, particularly his relationship with Brienne of Tarth, showed a man struggling to become better than his reputation, wanting to live up to ideals he once cynically dismissed.
It’s one of the reasons many of us were outraged by the final season of the television show, which was forced to make up its own ending because Martin hadn’t finished the final book yet. The way they handled the character of Jaime totally reversed the redemptive arc his literary incarnation had been through.
Establishing the Grey: Building Moral Ambiguity
The foundation of a morally grey character’s arc lies in establishing genuine moral complexity right from the start.
This isn’t about making your character do arbitrary bad things or adding “flaws” superficially. The greyness must emerge from authentic conflicts within the character’s values, circumstances, or psychology—such as Jaime Lannister’s conflict between the oath he’d taken to serve his king, and the actions he needed to undertake to protect his sister, his family, and ultimately the people of King’s Landing. .
Ground their questionable actions in understandable motivations. In Lord of the Rings, Boromir’s temptation springs from legitimate desperation to save his people. When readers understand why a character makes morally questionable choices—even if they don’t agree with them—the character becomes human rather than simply villainous. Give your character reasons that make sense from their perspective, shaped by their history, culture, trauma, or immediate circumstances.
Show both light and shadow consistently. A truly grey character demonstrates both admirable qualities and significant flaws throughout their arc, not just at convenient plot moments. They might be fiercely loyal to their family while callous to outsiders, brave in battle but cowardly in emotional vulnerability, or genuinely kind yet capable of terrible acts when threatened. This consistency prevents the character from feeling like they’re simply whatever the plot requires.
Create genuine internal conflict. The most compelling grey characters struggle with their own choices. They experience doubt, rationalization, guilt, or defensive justification. They might recognize their flaws but feel powerless to change, or they might be genuinely uncertain about what constitutes the right choice in their situation. This internal landscape makes their eventual redemptive choice feel earned rather than arbitrary.
Let consequences accumulate. Similarly, morally grey characters should face realistic consequences for their questionable actions. Other characters might distrust them, they might carry guilt or trauma, or their past choices might create obstacles later. When Boromir attempts to take the Ring, the Fellowship fractures. These consequences raise the stakes for their eventual redemptive act. I wrote an article exploring these themes called “Should Your Redeemed Villain Live or Die?”
Crafting the Redemptive Choice
The climax of these characters’ arcs should be the moment of redemption, something that requires careful handling to feel satisfying rather than manipulative or unearned. Several elements typically contribute to a successful redemptive arc.
Make the right choice costly. Redemption that comes easily reads as cheap. Boromir doesn’t just apologize; he dies defending the hobbits. Snape doesn’t just help Harry; he endures years of hatred and suspicion, dying without recognition. The character must sacrifice something meaningful, such as their life, their reputation, their safety, or their deepest desires. The cost demonstrates the sincerity of their choice and their willingness to pay the price required.
Ensure the choice aligns with their established character. The redemptive act should feel like something this specific character would do, even if it’s something they previously couldn’t or wouldn’t do. It should connect to their core values or relationships, showing growth rather than replacement of their personality. Boromir dies as a warrior protecting the vulnerable, his redemption manifests through his established identity as a soldier of Gondor, now serving the true cause rather than his corrupted vision of it.
Don’t erase what came before. Effective redemption arcs acknowledge rather than excuse past wrongs. Snape’s love for Lily doesn’t excuse his cruelty to students. Jaime’s journey toward honor doesn’t undo pushing Bran from the tower. The character can change their trajectory without the story pretending their questionable actions didn’t matter or weren’t really that bad.
Give them agency in the choice. The character must actively choose redemption rather than stumbling into it accidentally or being forced by circumstances beyond their control. Even when external pressure exists, the internal decision to do the right thing must be deliberate and clear. This is the most important part of this arc!
Why This Trope Resonates So Deeply
The power of this redemptive character arc lies in what it suggests about human nature. Unlike purely heroic characters who never seriously falter, or villains who remain irredeemable, the morally grey character chooses to do what’s right and accepts the consequences. This is the kind of heroism that resonates with readers on a profound level.
These characters reflect our own moral complexity. Most readers have experienced the real-world tension between our competing values and felt the temptation to rationalize our questionable choices.
We recognize ourselves in characters who aren’t purely good or evil, but somewhere in between—struggling.
When characters like these make the right choice despite their flaws and temptations, it validates the possibility that we, too, can choose better, and that our past failures don’t determine our future actions.
The redemptive choice also affirms that what our characters do in the moment matters more than their reputation or past actions. In a world that often judges people by their worst moments or most visible failures, fiction offers a space in which growth, sacrifice, and choice can redefine who someone is. A morally grey character’s redemption suggests that people deserve to be judged by their choices in crucial moments, not just what they’ve done before.
There’s also something uniquely cathartic about witnessing a character overcome their own nature or circumstances to do what’s right. The purely heroic character doing good is expected. The grey character choosing good despite everything pulling them otherwise creates genuine surprise and emotional impact.
We mourn Boromir more deeply because of his earlier failure. We appreciate Snape’s sacrifice more because we witnessed his bitterness and cruelty. Seeing characters become better gives us hope that we can become better.
Finally, this arc engages readers in a more complex emotional and moral exercise than simpler character types allow. To appreciate their story, we have to hold multiple truths simultaneously.
This character did wrong. They did right. They were corrupted, and then they were redeemed. They failed, but they succeeded when it mattered most. This complexity makes for rich, memorable fiction that stays with readers long after they finish the story.
For self-published authors, the morally grey character who makes the right choice in the end offers a powerful tool for creating memorable, emotionally resonant stories.
By establishing genuine moral complexity, crafting meaningful redemptive choices, and trusting readers to embrace nuance, you create characters who reflect the beautiful, messy reality of the human moral struggle, and reiterate the hope that, when the moment comes, we all might choose the harder right over the easier wrong.

