The Villainess genre is autistic-coded, and it’s a good thing

Quite a few Villainess stories are about women who, despite being good people, are painted as terrible. This is the kind of experience autistic people face in the real world, and these stories provide an entertaining way of humanizing them by showing these women’s lived experience.

My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

I love Villainess stories.

If you have never heard of the term before, it describes a sub-genre of isekai, where someone from our world is transported or reincarnated in another world. In this case, in the shoes of the Villainess of a story they knew in their previous life, an in-universe fictional story that heavily borrows on tropes from shoujo manga and otome games: a sweet, fragile and feminine heroine who has a special power; a group of male love interests that the heroine is supposed to date; a Villainess which stands in the way of the heroine’s love, bullies her and usually dies at the end.

Incarnated into the Villainess, the protagonist is thus put on a scripted path that will lead her to her demise. To be publicly shamed, reviled and sentenced to death or exile. It’s an underdog narrative where the protagonist will have to use her wits and knowledge of the in-universe story to avoid a tragic fate.

In some cases she has one day to avoid her downfall, in others, years to prepare for it. The less time she has to avoid it, the more dramatic the story is, and conversely the more time she has the more space there is to explore how the protagonist differs from the in-universe Villainess character. While the first type makes for a very impactful and entertaining underdog narrative where we can root for a politically astute female protagonist, the second type is more relevant to my point.

The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen: From Villainess to Savior

What makes a Villainess?

The in-universe Villainess character is often an arrogant over-the-top cartoonish villain, designed to be instantly recognized, despised, and ultimately defeated with great satisfaction. The Villainess story protagonist, being a somewhat normal person from our world, can never fit this description. So why would they worry about being seen as a villain, when just being themselves means they would avoid their tragic fate?

Some Villainess stories present themselves as classical Greek tragedy where Fate cannot be changed [1], others have the protagonist assume they will be seen as a villain. The author can juxtapose it with concrete evidence of the contrary for comedic effect; the protagonist’s cluelessness making her both entertaining and endearing. Or they can play it straight for drama, her words and actions unintentionally but understandably drawing antagonistic feelings from the other characters.

But, why would anyone genuinely assume they’re going to be perceived as a bad person?

Do you know what it’s like to grow up autistic in a neurotypical world?

There is a fundamental disconnect between how an autistic person thinks and how neurotypical people think. This creates communication issues, issues that can be resolved provided that both parties have the maturity to control their emotional reactions and assume good faith. This isn’t something children are good at.

To grow up autistic in a neurotypical world is to be regularly confronted with doing something that others see as wrong, not understand why, and be blamed as if your actions were intentionally harmful. [2] It’s not hard to see a parallel with Villainess stories in which, through no fault of their own, a decent person is put in a situation that paints them as the literal villain of the story.

Showing someone's unjust alienation is emotionally very powerful. In Villainess stories, it creates empathy towards the protagonist while having the capacity to show both sides of an issue. Whether it’s done intentionally by the author or not, it’s the perfect space to explore real neurodiverse struggles from their point of view. [3]

And today, we are solely lacking this kind of narrative. Especially presented in an accessible way.

Footnotes

[1] Except at the end, because the isekai genre is mostly about escapism. Some Villainess stories explain this through game logic: the world the protagonist inhabits strictly follows the in-universe story. No matter what she does, it will be twisted to show her in a negative way to fit the original Villainess characterization. This reinforces the underdog narrative where she literally fights against the world, and can make her final victory all the more satisfying.

[2] From there you either develop the ability to mask your difference from others, internalizing that something is just wrong with you; or you don’t quite achieve it and are subjected to violence from children and adults alike. Our world is not a welcoming place for neurodiverse children, though it’s thankfully starting to change in more progressive spaces.

[3] Some stories do this quite well even if they don’t strictly follow the Villainess formula, like Villainess Level 99: I May Be the Hidden Boss but I'm Not the Demon Lord.