TV Characters We Hated At First, But Ultimately Won Us Over

Some of the best characters start off unbearable. They’re smug, selfish, maybe even violent. But if the writing’s good—and the acting’s better—something shifts. Slowly, the mask drops. They become complicated and vulnerable. Before you know it, you’re rooting for the same person you once wanted written off. Here’s how they pulled it off.

Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 1997)

He strolled in with bleach-blond menace, cracking necks and taunting heroes. Early Spike wasn’t charming—he was chaos in a leather coat. But the soul arc changed everything. Watching him wrestle with shame, desire, and self-hatred turned him into one of Buffy’s most complex characters. Evil never looked so emotionally nuanced.

Jaime Lannister (Game of Thrones, 2011)

Pushing a child out a window in the first episode doesn’t exactly scream “fan favorite.” Jaime had everything working against him until the layers unraveled. Underneath the arrogance was a man suffocating under legacy and guilt. His bond with Brienne wasn’t just redemptive; it showed how fragile ego can slowly give way to grace.

Regina Mills (Once Upon a Time, 2011)

Initially, she was every fairytale’s worst nightmare. But then came the subtle shifts. Her maternal instinct for Henry chipped away at the callous exterior. By season three, she wasn’t just redeemable—she was riveting. Her struggle to rewrite her story felt more honest than most of the heroes around her.

Niklaus Mikaelson (The Originals, 2013)

Klaus was a walking contradiction: savage one moment, soulful the next. He could rip out a heart and recite poetry in the same breath. What hooked fans wasn’t just his charisma—it was his desperation to protect a family he kept wounding. His vulnerability, buried beneath centuries of trauma, made his rage feel tragically earned.

Loki (Thor, 2011)

This wasn’t just a smirking trickster with daddy issues, though that was a solid starting point. Loki’s evolution across the Marvel universe is a masterclass in long-game character work. His sly humor and ego masked a desperate need for identity. That slow, painful self-awareness turned him into one of Marvel’s most beloved antiheroes.

Michael (The Good Place, 2016)

Michael began as a smug architect with a bowtie and a sinister twist: heaven was a lie. But when his plan unraveled, something delightful happened—he grew curious, then empathetic. Watching a literal demon grapple with moral philosophy made him one of TV’s most unexpectedly endearing characters. Bonus: his comic timing never missed.

Ben Linus (Lost, 2006)

There’s cold, and then there’s Ben. Manipulative and unreadable, he was less a villain and more a chessboard. But behind that glassy stare was a man clawing for relevance and control. Michael Emerson’s performance lets you glimpse the rot and the regret, often in the same twitch of an eye.

Damon Salvatore (The Vampire Diaries, 2009)

He walked into Mystic Falls like trouble in tight jeans. Damon was all smirk and fangs until Elena cracked something in him. His evolution wasn’t linear—he backslid, sabotaged, and still made your heart break. His most compelling moments weren’t the declarations of love. They were the silent, self-loathing ones he tried to hide.

Elijah Mikaelson (The Vampire Diaries, 2010)

Where Klaus burned hot, Elijah simmered. Buttoned-up, soft-spoken, terrifying. He wasn’t likable, just watchable—until you saw what he sacrificed for his siblings. He was always cleaning up Klaus’s messes, burying his needs under centuries of control. His heartbreak was quieter than his brother’s, but no less brutal.

Faith Lehane (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 1999)

Faith wasn’t just Buffy’s edgy counterpart; she was a girl completely unmoored. Seduced by power and then abandoned by everyone she trusted, she spiraled fast. But her redemption arc, from jail to hard-won forgiveness, never asked you to excuse her. It just dared you to understand her.

Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender, 2005)

Banished, scarred, seething—Zuko’s mission to capture Aang was textbook villain stuff. But his moral crisis unfolded like a slow, gorgeous burn. Every choice felt like a battle between duty and conscience. His eventual pivot toward redemption wasn’t sudden—it was earned, step by grueling step. His road to honor remains unmatched.

Merle Dixon (The Walking Dead, 2010)

Merle was designed to be hated. He was bigoted, volatile, and dangerous. But something changed in the quiet beats between the shouting. His bond with Daryl peeled back the layers, revealing someone desperate to matter. His final act wasn’t clean or redemptive, but it was human.

Angel (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 1997)

A vampire with a soul sounds like a gimmick until you see the toll it takes. Angel wasn’t brooding for aesthetics—he was drowning in guilt. His inner conflict made his heroism feel hard-won, not gifted. And when he lost his soul, it was terrifying. No character embodied duality quite like him.

Negan Smith (The Walking Dead, 2016)

No one expected the bat-wielding sadist to become complicated, but Negan’s role twisted unexpectedly. Stripped of his power, he revealed slivers of regret and moments of connection, especially with Judith and Carl. His shift didn’t absolve his offenses, but it made them weightier. That’s a villain with dimension.

Chuck Bass (Gossip Girl, 2007)

In season one, Chuck was irredeemable. He was predatory and dripping in entitlement. But then cracks appeared. His love for Blair wasn’t just obsessive, it was revealing. Therapy, vulnerability, and a slow crawl toward maturity turned him into one of the show’s most layered and divisive characters. Messy? Always. Boring? Never.

Logan Echolls (Veronica Mars, 2004)

Logan’s swagger masked something darker, more akin to neglect and grief. He wasn’t misunderstood—he was damaged. But his evolution, especially in his relationship with Veronica, showed depth most teen dramas never reach. He didn’t just soften; he smartened up and learned how to love without breaking things.

Sylar (Heroes, 2006)

He wasn’t just the scariest part of Heroes—he was the show for a while. Sylar’s ability to steal powers made him monstrous, but his origin story added real sorrow. Gabriel Gray was a lonely watchmaker aching to matter. That ache curdled into obsession, then guilt. His shifts were messy, and that’s what made them fascinating.

Cersei Lannister (Game of Thrones, 2011)

Cunning and manipulative, Cersei was easy to despise. But Lena Headey laced every smirk with grief and calculation. Her love for her children humanized her, even as her lust for power corrupted her. She didn’t get a soft redemption. She got tragedy and maybe the best death-stare in TV history.

T-Bag (Prison Break, 2005)

Everything about him screamed irredeemable. And yet, Robert Knepper found slivers of tragedy in T-Bag’s broken psyche. His desperate need for belonging, even if it came in twisted forms, added layers to his savagery. His character didn’t seek forgiveness; it clawed at it. And somehow, we watched.