Author's Note: Somebody needs to stop me from making these man, I swear.
Anyways. A Self-Insert where a character is put into a teenage Bowser body and ends up in the My Hero Academia universe, with no information beyond the first season of the anime to keep things interesting.
Starts 2 months before the events of the Anime proper, namely the Sludge Villain Attack. MC is equivalent to a Teenage Bowser, but has no training. So more power than Baby Bowser, but doesn’t have as much control, and has yet to learn how to use some of the crazier Bowser abilities. Basic strength, durability, fire breath.
Hope you all enjoy.
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I woke up when I slammed face-first into the concrete.
I do not recommend it.
The sound of cracking stone filled the air, dust rising up around me.
“Gah!” I shouted in pain, bouncing up, then landing face-first again. I groaned into the concrete, moaning at the agony all across the front of my body. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
“O-Owww.”
I didn’t move, my head feeling fuzzy. It was more than just the pain. My whole body felt… weird. Uncomfortable. I had this weight on my back. It was light, like a pillow resting on me, but it didn’t go away no matter how I shifted my shoulders. Combined with that, my skin felt so strange.
I finally just lay there, trying to breath. Someone shouted in the background. I heard footsteps approaching and someone speaking at a frantic pace. It sounded like… Japanese? I didn’t speak the language beyond some simple terms, but I could recognize it.
I peeked one eye open. I was in the middle of an empty courtyard, surrounded by apartment buildings. I was lying in a crater. God. I cratered the ground when I landed? No wonder I was so hurt.
An Asian woman was staring at me, jabbering into a phone. I couldn’t understand her beyond some basic Japanese words.
“モンスターのいくつかの種類は、彼が空から落ちた、私は彼が救急車が必要だと思います！ 大きなもの !”
I slowly closed my eyes, the feeling of my bones and muscles bruising filling me for a moment longer. Then I passed out from the agony.
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March
I woke up slowly, blinking my eyes. They felt so heavy. I stared upwards. The ceiling was made of some sort of ceramic tiles, separated by metal sections into neat squares. The air smelled like disinfectant and… I don’t know. Blood? And vomit. The smell was so strong I could barely stand it.
I took another breath, trying to rise up. That was harder than I thought. It felt like there was some sort of, I don’t know, a brace around my chest and back? For a horrific moment, I thought I was paralysed, but I managed to get myself up by moving at the waist. As I sat up, the TV across from me drew my attention when the sound of laughter came from it. I glanced at it, then did a double-take.
A massive man was sitting across from a brown haired reporter, laughing boisterously. Dude must have been 7 feet and built like… well, the man’s muscles had their own muscles. He was HUGE. His hair was a bright blonde, with two sections rising up like horns. He wore a red and blue outfit with a white ‘v’ of sorts across his chest. His eyes were oddly dark in color, but his smile… That tipped me off more than anything.
Even though I couldn’t read the Japanese being written on the screen, I recognized him.
“All Might?” I wondered to myself. I’d only watched Season 1 of My Hero Academia, but that was more than enough for me to recognize him on sight. Or at least, the actor playing him.
I’d heard they were making a live action play of the show. Made sense they would want to interview one of the actors for it. He looked REALLY good though. Like, the best fucking cosplay I’d ever seen. They must have grabbed the biggest Japanese bodybuilder in the world for it. And his hair looked so real, not gelled up at all.
I reached out with one hand towards one of the railings of my hospital bed. Then I stared at it as it entered my vision.
Yellow-orange scales… short claws on a four-fingered hand.
I stared at that hand. I slowly forced myself to close my fingers. The claws tightened, then slowly shut under my control. Now that I wasn’t in as much pain, I could feel my body a bit more. I crossed my eyes. A large muzzle was jutting out from my face. I licked my teeth, feeling my teeth. They were all fangs. Panic began to fill me.
I couldn’t really look down at my stomach and chest with the muzzle blocking me, but when I brought my hands to it, I felt a hard shell wrapping around me. I reached back and felt the other side. A big giant shell. Fuck me! Did I get turned into a ninja turtle!?
I grabbed the blankets wrapped around my legs and tossed them off, then gaped at my feet. They were big and round, like tree trunks. I wiggled my toes. My clawed toes.
In the back of my mind, I wondered about my bed. It seemed gigantic. I stared down at it. Yeah, it was huge. When I twisted around, which was an adventure with the fucking shell, I saw that it seemed to be made of some kind of special gel. There were holes in the gelatin material that were fading away. I poked at it, and found my claw entering the material. When I pulled it out, it began to quickly reform. There was a logo on the side of the bed. Detnerat™.
Someone came into the room. I looked up. A nurse stared at me. She was tall, thin, and Japanese. Her ears were also shaped like tiny rockets. As in, literal fucking rockets made of metal. We stared at each other, me at her weird as fuck ears. Then she yelped, spinning on her heel and rushing out the door.
“Sensei! Sensei, 彼は目を覚ましている!”
As she shouted, rushing through the halls, I thought about her ears. Then I looked up at the TV.
All Might grinned at me.
I didn’t talk, just staring at the screen. I think I went into shock, because I didn’t register anyone coming in to talk to me. I just sat like that as the news faded to the next images, ignoring the doctor asking me questions in Japanese.
My Hero Academia. Goddamn it. I should have watched more of the show.
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April
Fantasy and reality. The difference between them. It was something I thought about often over the next three weeks.
It’s well known in my own world that I was a fan of writing fanfics, no pun intended. Self-Inserts as well. I like them, as they’re fun to write. It’s fun to imagine yourself fighting alongside your heroes, going through trials and tribulations and such.
That’s the point though. It’s fun to imagine that sort of thing.
Going through it is very different.
Once I came out of shock, I tried talking to the doctor taking care of me. He asked me some questions, and I explained in my broken as fuck Japanese that I was American, and spoke English. So he brought in a translator. And that guy barely understood what I was trying to convey.
I explained that I wasn’t from around here. They tried looking me up, as a guy with my appearance would be easy to find, but no luck.
Ah. My appearance. Turns out, I wasn’t a ninja turtle. I was a dragon turtle. As in, I looked like Bowser. BOWSER. From Mario. The OG Video Game BOSS. Well, sort of like him. In truth, I looked more like the younger version of that. I looked softer in the face than Bowser did, but my fangs, size, and horns were a lot bigger than Baby Bowsers. My hair was a thick red, but it was not as much of a mane as the big guy had.
No word on if I had any magical powers though. I remembered hearing once that Bowser was a ‘star child’ or something, and it was one of the reasons for the sheer amount of power he had sometimes, but that didn’t seem to be a thing.
But I doubted I was as powerful as he was. Not yet at least.
I was also smaller.
Still a fucking big dude though. My full height was 7 and a half feet, 228 centimeters according to the rest of the world, and I was thick around with muscle layered in fat and scales. It was hard to get used to. I had always been a big dude, but this was ridiculous!
That was part of the problem. First, I didn’t speak the language well, and that made it hard to get anything out of me. Second, I looked like a teenage monster. Third, no one could find out anything about me. No background, no id. The American embassy refused to have anything to do with me. The Japanese government wanted to ignore me.
It took three weeks before they finally decided to just put me somewhere I wouldn’t be likely to cause trouble.
So I got put into the child services system. I allowed it. Because once I figured shit out, well. I lied about my age. I told everyone I was 14 years old. What with the prevalence of quirks, no one doubted it, especially when I sounded so dumb.
People always see those who don’t speak the language as dumber than them.
I… had a lot to get used to. A new body, a new world, and a new culture. Some people get culture shock. This was next level.
Breathing fire, for example. God. Being strong enough to crush boulders, tough enough to withstand insane damage. It was cool, but it was also a huge shock to my brain. I woke up every morning, looked in the mirror, and didn’t recognize myself.
It was enough to drive me to distraction.
I had one point I could focus on in this world. UA. Izuku Midoriya, and All Might.
In a place where I knew nothing, I had season 1 of the show. I grasped onto that as my future plan. When I got shoved into the child services system of this future Japan, while nervous social workers tried to avoid dealing with me, I had that goal. Get to UA high school.
I’d been told before that in a survival situation, you want to get to somewhere familiar. Well, America wasn’t the same as the one in my world. I’d looked up a few things since getting here, using the internet. My family didn’t exist of course. This world was a couple centuries after my own universe after all. Funny enough, neither did the Mario series. People did mention Gamera around me a couple times though.
The point was, I had only one thing that I knew for certain. Izuku Midoriya was going to meet All Might one day, and the events of the show would happen. It was familiar ground.
So, once I got over my shock, I made that my plan. Get to UA, and work there, building on my knowledge to make a foothold.
Besides, I preferred it to becoming a normal guy again. Because once I got over everything I realized something.
I had FUCKING SUPERPOWERS.
And the only way I’d be allowed to use them was with a hero license.
So, I got dropped off in front of an apartment in Musutafu, Japan… Man, Horikoshi really did like Star Wars. Man after my own heart. I looked up at the place. It was kind of beat up, but otherwise fine. The sort of place I’d seen in plenty of anime, a three floor apartment with blue railings and a red rooftop. I could imagine a slice-of-life anime taking place there.
“Bowsa-san,” at the sound of the fake name I’d given Japan, I looked down at the thin man next to me. My social worker was a very normal looking guy by the name of Ranma Takahashi. He smiled up at me. “You, ready?” he said hesitantly.
“Yes, Ranma-san,” I said with a fanged smile, which he returned with a nod.
Ranma was cool. Of the revolving door of social workers I’d met, he was the only one that spoke English and actually wanted to help me in any meaningful way. His dad had named him after Ranma Saotome, super-martial artist and part time girl. We’d kinda bonded over that. What can I say, I respect a man who has love for classic anime, and Ranma knew damn well how badass his namesake was.
“Right this way, Bowsa-san,” he waved for me to follow. I hefted my backpack over my shoulder. It didn’t have much. Two changes of clothes, a notebook, and some money I’d been saving. I followed the thin Japanese man slowly. He hummed to himself as he walked. A woman came out of her room as we walked past. She glanced at Ranma. Then at me. She did a double-take, then slipped back into her room with a panicked expression.
Ranma froze when he saw that. Then he sighed sadly. “Bowsa-san, I-”
“Don’t worry about it,” I sighed. “Let’s move on.”
He winced, probably thinking I was being brave or something. In truth, I didn’t mind much. It wasn’t like she’d thrown tomatoes at me or something. People are going to be scared of what they don’t understand. All you can do is your best to prove them wrong.
I’d been 28 in my world. I was also an Arabian Muslim living in America. I’d learned to deal with people hating on me. At least in this world, it was because I looked scary on my own, instead of getting blamed for things I condemned.
Ranma didn’t have that perspective though, so he was still down as we got to the small elevator built into the side of the building. He tapped on the button, waiting for a bit as I stood next to him.
“...Bowsa-san. If anyone, give you trouble? For how you look?” he spoke slowly, hesitantly. His English wasn’t perfect, so I could tell he was working hard to convey what he was saying clearly. “Tell me. I take care of it, okay?”
I looked down at him. He glanced up at me, eyes narrowed. “Okay? You my… my resp-responsi-” he grumbled, struggling with the final word.
“Responsibility,” I said softly. Goddamn it. I was touched. I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. Ranma-san.”
He chuckled. The elevator doors opened, and he walked into the elevator. I stared at it nervously. Me and elevators had an interesting relationship these days. The first time I’d stepped into an elevator with a group, the damn thing refused to move. I weighed two tons or so now after all.
Ranma knew my worries though, and he waved for me to enter. “No, no, this one strong! Don’t worry!”
I still felt hesitant, but I slowly walked in, feeling the thing shake under my giant boots. The doors closed behind me. The elevator shook. I winced, and Ranma smiled reassuringly. When the elevator began to rise, I let out a sigh of relief. We went up two floors, then exited without any incident..
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
He led me to a room at the end of the complex, taking out a key and opening the door. The really tall door. Actually, all the doors of this complex were pretty big, large enough for even my height. He led me inside.
I looked around a bit. There was a kitchen just inside the front entrance to my right, and a door leading to the bathroom on my left. Beyond that was a room to actually live in. It was mostly empty, with only a set of drawers, a table, mirror, and some chairs. I walked to the closet and opened it up to see a large gel futon resting inside.
“Bowsa-san,” I turned to look at Ranma. “This, your home now. I visit once every two weeks, okay? To make sure you okay.”
“Arigato, Ranma-san,” I bowed just a bit. He bowed back.
“Of course. There food in fridge. Enough for you!” he joked.
I could feel some heat in my cheeks. Turns out even a teen Bowser eats a LOT. Thank god Japan was pretty used to mutation quirks and the big eaters that had them.
“I must go,” he said sadly. “But here!”
He reached into his briefcase, and pulled out a laptop, to my surprise. He seemed amused by the look I gave him. “Old. But good.”
“Ranma-san, I can’t take that-”
“Bowsa,” the lack of an honorific surprised me. He frowned. “Omiyage, ah, gift. Is important. To show, friend. And you need for school,” he held out the laptop. “Take. Please.”
“...Arigato,” I took the laptop solemnly. He was right. It was old. But I couldn’t help my smile at the sight of it in my hands. Because he’d gotten one big enough for me. “Damn man. Arigato.”
“Ah. And no more cussing,” he said with a sigh. “It make you sound like Yankee.”
I flashed some fangs at that.
“Now. Rest. School tomorrow, okay?”
I nodded seriously. Yeah. School. After three weeks, I could get to work in earnest.
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When Ranma left, I opened up the laptop and went to one of those websites that teach you languages for free. Rosetta Stone, Duolingo, and Pimsleur weren’t around in this world, not anymore, but an equivalent existed. I moved to lesson five, and played it. A stoic man started speaking.
“Listen to this Japanese conversation. Then, repeat!”
I listened carefully as I placed my clothes away, glancing at the mirror. I was wearing a giant black shirt with blue fire running along the bottom, made to fit guys as massive as me, and a pair of jean shorts around my waist, a pair of boots on my feet. I stared at myself for a second.
God. I was having a lot of trouble getting used to myself. Body dysmorphic disorder. The sensation that my body was wrong. I kept getting shivers up my spine whenever I remembered I was no longer an average height dark skinned human, a sensation that something was insanely bad about this. I can’t explain what it felt like.
I pushed aside the thought. I pushed aside the question of why this had happened as well, what force in the universe had taken over my body.
I just got down to the floor, got myself in push-up position, and started working.
“Sumimasen,” the laptop said.
“Sumimasen,” I grunted.
“Ma.”
“Ma.”
“Sen.”
“Sen.” I mumbled, lowering myself up and down.
I had taken a look at the news. All Might was yet to become a teacher at UA. And the school year was just starting. It was tough to look up Deku, but Bakugo had made a rep for himself, enough that he had some fame in athletics in the school, and he wasn’t going to graduate for another year. Which meant I had a year. One year to get good grades, workout, get used to this damn truck of a body, and get into UA. I’d need to work twice as hard as anyone else. Better get into it.
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The next day, I woke up and got ready for school. Which was… an odd experience. I hadn’t been to school in nearly a decade, let alone mandatory school. Last time I had a class was college.
I drank four protein shakes for a light breakfast, shoved my laptop into my bag, and headed out in a school uniform sized for me, making sure to carry more protein powder for later.
I ran there, taking the route Ranma had given me, jogging as best as I could and ignoring the looks I got as I booked it to the school. I crossed over bridges, ran past a massive amount of buildings, went through an alleyway or two, had a small problem with my spikes snagging on a dumpster as I ran past, and took a stop to drink some water.
All part of my training regimen. I was about 2 miles away, so running to school would be a good way to develop my cardio. I’d probably end up hefty no matter what, considering how Bowser looked, but I could at least make sure I could last a while in a fight.
I got to the school in question after 30 minutes of running, panting as I approached. There, I could see the students.
They were… so tiny. I mean, sometimes it’s easy to forget how tiny kids are. These thirteen year olds were so baby faced. I slowed down as I approached my destination, looking them over.
It was interesting. The kids were a lot more colorful than in my world, for one thing. A few of them had mutation quirks after all, but a few also had hair of varying colors, from natural blonde to a bright magenta. One kid had a face like an insect, with mandibles. Another had wings poking out of his back.
But none were as big as me. I ended up creating a wide berth as I roamed through the crowd of kids. I was kind of amused at the sight of the youngin’s separating for me.
Part of that might have been being the new ‘kid’ in town. The students were gathered in little groups, talking about the summer and bemoaning being in school again. Just wait until they had to pay rent and get crappy jobs. They’d miss this later.
I headed in through the doors, squeezing in and rushing to the office, where a beleaguered lady already dealing with a bunch of bullshit walked me through the motions as I tried my best to catch up using my broken Japanese. I replaced my giant boots with my indoor shoes and headed to class. Soon enough, I was standing in a class in front of a bunch of gawking pre-teens, a teacher asking me to introduce myself. I looked them over as the teacher, a guy with purple skin and hands with thumbs ending in spatulas, waved for me to speak.
God, this was going to make me sound stupid. I started speaking. “Kon'nichiwa,” for some reason, the kids laughed at that. I continued anyways by pointing at my chest. “Bowser Koopa. Aete ure… uh…” I blanked on the last part. I frowned. “Ure…”
“Ureshīdesu!” the teacher said helpfully. The kids, on the other hand, started giggling. Predictable.
“Arigato, sensei,” I said, holding back my annoyance at the brats currently giggling at me.
He nodded, but the damage was done. The Gaijin kid was now official. Should be fun.
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Class was interesting. I didn’t catch most of it, but thankfully there were page numbers and such to help me out. I wrote down what I could in my shaky looking Kanji, writing it down in English as well. The kids were oddly disciplined, but that might have been the culture difference. And the teachers aim with chalk.
Which led to something odd that happened. While I was writing something down, the sound of a loud obnoxious roar came from me. And yet, I didn’t make a sound.
“Koopa-san!” the teacher looked at me, shocked.
“Uh…” I cocked my head to the side, confused. “I didn’t-”
One of the kids behind me started giggling. I looked over at him. He was a weedy little thing, about 5 foot nothing, but his throat looked like someone had installed a voice box in the front of it. The teacher glared at him.
“Keita-san…” he said. Then a piece of chalk was launched like it had been shot out of a gun, bouncing off the kids forehead.
“Gah!” he gasped, rubbing at his head. The teacher scolded him in Japanese while I blinked. Interesting quirk.
Oh, and I was getting hazed. More annoying than interesting, but whatever.
Soon enough though, lunch was on. I went out to the soccer field, crossing it to get to a nice tree I’d seen, mixed a protein shake, scarfed down some bread, and relaxed under the tree. I’d take my lunches to fuel up for now, but tomorrow I’d use the time to workout and study. For now, I was just happy to relax. I couldn’t lean back against the tree, since my spikes would tear it apart, but I was still able to relax.
Up until a small rock hit me in the cheek.
It bounced off, landing on the ground between my legs. I blinked, surprised, then looked down at the rock. It hadn’t hurt, but still.
I looked around curiously. That’s when I saw two kids giggling a couple feet from me. One was the voicebox kid. Keita, I guess. The other was a fat kid with hair made of… dirt. Huh. He held up a hand, giggling along with his friend, and a portion of his hair fell off to float just above his palm, hardening into a stone about the size of a large fist. The rock went flying towards me.
Yeah, no.
I raised my hand and snapped my fist outward, grabbing the rock just in front of my face. With a little growl, I slowly lowered my fist. The fat kid scowled, and waved his hand. The rock shook in my fist.
“Oy, gaijin yankee-”
I squeezed down, crushing the rock in my fist, gravel falling down across my lap. The kid paled. His friend blinked.
I rose up to my feet. I think, until then, the kids hadn’t quite cottoned on to just how big I was. They sat in the back of the class, for one, so they hadn’t gotten a good look, and they’d approached while I was lazily relaxing in the grass. Not an intimidating image.
But then, I stood up. Towering over the pair of kids. They stared at me, horror in their eyes. I huffed. Fire left my lips, smoke curling up into the air.
“Gah!” the kid created a rock again from his hair, tossing it at me like a baseball. I didn’t catch this one.
I just let it bounce off my chest. Then I started walking towards them. He tossed another rock at me. I snapped my jaws around it, fire exploding outward with the crunching of stones, and roared.
“GRAAAAAGH!”
“走れ!” the fat kid screeched, the pair spinning around and booked it, screaming. I sighed, spitting out pieces of stone.
“Ah, kids. Adorable little brats, the lot of them.”
Probably not the last idiots I’d find myself interacting with, but the rest of my lunch was quiet at least.
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After school, I headed to my Japanese as a second language class. Hopefully, if I put enough work into it, I’d be able to get out of there before UA, but for now I’d need to put the work in. I slid open the door and blinked at the young girl I saw there.
She was cute. That was my first thought. About five feet if you ignored the tall horns poking out of her bright blonde hair. Her eyes were massive and blue, and she was clearly Caucasian rather than Japanese, though that might have been part of her mutation. Her feet were hooves. I felt jealous for a moment that she didn’t have to wear shoes like me, but I guess she had better control over her hooves than I did of my claws. I was still ripping the floor sometimes.
We stared at each other for a moment. I waved. “Kon'nichiwa.”
“Ah, oh, that is…. Good afternoon! Kon’nichiwas!” she said cheerily. In English. A very southern drawl kind of English, but English nonetheless.
“You speak English too?” then I thought about it. “Wait, that means ‘good afternoon’? I thought it was good morning.”
“Oh, no,” she shook her head, though she still looked cheery and happy. “It means good afternoon! Ohayōgozaimasu means good morning!”
“Ah, fuck me,” I grumbled.
She gasped. When I looked at her, her eyes were wide. “That’s a bad word!”
“...” I almost laughed.
Seriously? Who let this adorable My Little Pony character into a school? But she was serious. Eh, I was cool with it. Let the kid keep her innocence then.
“I’m sorry. I’m just having a lot of trouble with my Japanese,” I bowed. “Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” she said with a smile. “I reckon I’m having trouble too. But I’m so happy you’re here! It’ll be nice to have someone to learn with!”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I said with a smile right back. I walked over and held out a hand. “I’m Bowser, by the by.”
“I’m Pony!” she shook my hand. “Nice to meet you!”
Pony… really? Ah well. “Guess we’ll be classmates now,” I said, letting go of her hand to grab one of the plus-size chairs.
“Yes! Let’s work hard, okay!?” she said brightly.
I smirked a bit. “Yeah. Let’s kick some ass.”
“...You like bad words a lot.”
“It’s part of my charm, just like adorableness is yours.”
She blushed heavily. What a cute kid.
And that’s how I ended my first day of school. Meeting Pony Tsunotori. Not a bad way to end it.
Just the start of my journey to becoming Japan’s second most violent superhero.
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Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy, because this was FUN to write. I've been wanting to write this for a long ass time, so it feels good to finally get this story down at last.
Anyways, yeah. Bowser SI in the MHA universe. Oddly enough, I think this works. Bowser in the games is POWERFUL. Seriously, the only reason he doesn't kick mad amounts of ass is that Mario is lucky enough to be even more ridiculous. Bowser has lore folks. You'd be amazed by how detailed that lore is. It's dope af though.
Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! The next one is up on my Patreon and is available to my 5 dollar tier and up, so you can head there to read it if you like, while the third chapter will be up soon as well. In the meantime, let me know what you thought, and I hope you have a great day!