A/N: Yeah, weird idea for a fanfic, I know. This is inspired by how Bowser tells a haiku toward the end of SMRPG. Also, what you see here is not at all how the publishing process goes, probably.
Oh, another note: I know it's canonical that Bowser Jr. is Bowser's only son, but I also like the idea of the Koopalings also being his kids, so you'll see that here.
The grandfather clock ticks in a steady rhythm in the background as Bowser shifts in his seat in front of his worn wooden desk, mumbling to himself as he reads off the synopsis he wrote. The sky is beginning to turn dark, and his eyelids are drooping, but he wants to finally finish his work tonight. He already received the okay from his editor, but Bowser is picky about giving his writing one last look-over.
Once the last word passes his lips, he allows himself a grin. It's perfect! He stands with a quiet, rumbling laugh as he straightens the papers against the desk and reaches for a yellow envelope. The papers go shff as they slide in, much more easily done than opening the metal bits and folding them against the flap. Grabbing a nearby pen, he flips over the envelope and writes down the publishing place's address. In the corner where one normally puts their own name, Bowser instead writes T. Oxen.
He stretches and lets out a yawn. Now to take the envelope to the Koopa Kingdom's post office before they close. He reaches for the envelope––
"Get over here!"
Maniacal laughter booms in the hallway outside of Bowser's room as two sets of footsteps rush past, one set light and the other heavy. Bowser groans, recognizing the voice as Roy and the laughter as Iggy. He stomps out of the room to see Kamek chasing after the two hooligans... or attempting to.
"Please... stop..." Kamek rasps out, placing his hands on his knees as he stops. "Oh, dear..."
Bowser huffs. "Kamek." The old wizard lifts his head up. "There's an envelope on my desk. You go and take that to the post office while I deal with this."
Kamek nods his head wearily as he rises. "Gladly."
Bowser wastes no time as he stamps down the hallway, his nostrils flared. "Roy! Iggy!"
His footsteps fade off as Kamek takes another moment to catch his breath before sliding into Bowser's room. Kamek hums as he approaches the desk. Normally, Bowser's desk is absolutely cluttered with miscellaneous papers, but at the moment there is just the single yellow envelope sitting atop the desk.
Kamek grabs it, giving it a cursory glance before he squints at its corner. "T. Oxen"? Kamek scoffs. Bowser should know by now that he is supposed to put his name there and not someone else's.
With a snap of Kamek's fingers, a nearby pen zips into his hand. He scratches out the name (whoever it belonged to) and writes "Lord Bowser" below it before taking his leave––and the pen.
The Koopa Troopa intern straightens her tie as she weaves through the crowd of workers, taking care not to walk under any teetering piles of papers. She eventually makes it to her boss' office, whose door creaks as the intern walks in.
Her boss' eyes light up upon seeing her. "Hey, Koopaisley! My coffee?"
Koopaisley hands over the steaming mug, which the boss takes a drink from immediately. Koopaisley fiddles with her hands a moment before reaching behind her and grabbing a yellow envelope. "Uh, Koopeter, sir? This came in the mail this morning."
Koopeter sets down his mug and motions with his hand. "Let's see it." The envelope trades hands, and Koopeter squints at the writing. Koopeter eventually lowers it, an eyebrow quirked. "From Lord Bowser himself? I wasn't expecting any such thing..."
Koopeter disregards the metal fastening and instead hooks a finger underneath the flap, ripping the envelope open. He takes out a couple of the papers and pores over them, his eyes widening the further he reads on. He glances back at the envelope.
"Is something wrong, sir?" Koopaisley asks, feeling awkward just standing there.
Koopeter lets out some laughs, looking back up at her with a grin. "Oh, absolutely not!" He waves the papers about. "Do you know what these are?"
"No––"
"They're the T. Oxen poems I was expecting!"
She frowns. "But you said they came from Lord Bowser?" Her eyes suddenly broaden. "Wait, T. Oxen is Lord Bowser?!"
"Exactamundo!" Koopeter exclaims, raising his hands in the air as he spins in his office chair. "Oh, think of the hype this reveal will generate, and all the money it'll bring!"
Koopaisley hesitates, looking back down at the envelope. She can now easily see the "T. Oxen" scratched out above Lord Bowser's name. It seems deliberate, but...
"Do you think we should confirm, first?" Koopaisley says, looking back up. "Just to make sure it wasn't a mistake and he does want to be revealed?"
Koopeter stops spinning, setting his elbows down on his desk and clasping his hands together. "Koopaisley, you're my intern, right?"
She shifts in place. "Yes?"
"And that means I teach you how the publishing biz works, right?"
"...Yes?"
He raises his index finger. "Well, you better write this down, because I'm about to drop some solid advice."
She reaches behind her and pulls out a notebook and pen, looking to him with curious eyes.
He rises from his seat, sliding the papers back into the envelope as he walks to his door. "You care first and foremost about that sweet, sweet moolah. Now, c'mon, we got some books to print."
She follows him out the door as she scratches down his words.
Bowser downs his plate of breakfast and sets the platter down, letting out a content sigh. Roy is still giving Iggy the stink eye across the dining table, but at the very least no one is trying to hurt each other. All in all, it is a very peaceful morning.
Kamek finally shows up, Bowser Jr. dragging his feet behind him. They take their seats on each side of Bowser. Some Shy Guys quickly set plates of food in front of them before taking their leave. "Apologies for the tardiness," Kamek says, picking up his fork. "Lord Junior didn't feel like getting up."
"You stayed up too late, didn't you?" Bowser asks, looking to his left where Junior sat.
"Maybe," Junior answers, prodding at his scrambled eggs.
Bowser humphs, grabbing his "World's Greatest Dad" coffee mug. "You keep that up and you'll be too tired for the tennis match on Friday."
"Who all is attending that, anyway?" Kamek asks, cutting a piece from a fried egg.
"Same ol', same ol'." Bowser takes a sip of his coffee before sighing. "Which means Rosalina as well, since I guess she's part of the frie––the group now."
"Hasn't she for a while?"
"I mean, yeah, but I was hoping she'd eventually stop coming. She's made it clear she hates my guts because she ignores me the whole time. Hard to play any sport with that." Bowser grumbles. "Whatever. So there were no troubles taking that envelope to the post office last night?" Bowser asks Kamek before taking a drink.
"None whatsoever." Kamek scoffs. "Although I did have to write your own name on it."
Bowser suddenly inhales, sending coffee down the wrong pipe. He coughs and splutters, hitting his chest a couple times before snapping his attention to Kamek. "W-What?"
Kamek looks at him, and although he is wearing glasses, Bowser knows from experience he is rolling his eyes at him. "I know you millenials haven't written a proper letter before, what with your fax machines and emails––"
Bowser grabs Kamek by the shoulder and drags him closer, staring him straight in the eyes. "You put my name on that envelope."
Kamek frowns. "Yes, I did. That's how you write a letter!"
Bowser lets Kamek go, processing the information. His real name is attached to his work––his poetry, his mushy, gushy poetry that many-a critic and fan attributed to a sensitive soul, much to Bowser's annoyance and now his growing horror.
Once word gets out that he is T. Oxen the famous poet, his reputation as a bad guy is done for. He would be the laughing stock of his own kingdom. And Peach would never possibly think of him as a cool guy––
"Lord Bowser? Son?" Kamek speaks up, worry in his voice. It breaks Bowser from his train of thought.
Bowser slams his hands on the table, causing the plates, cups and utensils to jump into the air for a moment before clattering back down into place. "E-Emergency mission! Everyone to their clown cars!"
Everybody gives confused glances to each other. Lemmy raises his hand. "Uh, my clown car is still in the shop."
Bowser shoves away from the table and gets up, leaving his chair to fall onto the ground. "Ride with one of the others," he says before he zooms to the garage.
The Koopalings share shrugs before getting up and following their dad. Junior's eyes light up as he slips off his chair, about to come along as well. "Not you, you have school!" Bowser yells from the distance. Excitement slips into annoyance as Junior lets out a groan, turning the other way to go get his backpack.
Kamek just stares at the suddenly empty chairs. "What did I do?" he says to himself.
Bowser's clown car shoots through the air, with the Koopalings lagging behind. Eventually, Bowser nearly crash lands in front of a brick building, with the letters "Koopublishing" fastened to its front. "Come on!" Bowser shouts as the Koopalings touch down. Bowser hops down from his clown car and bustles inside, leaving the Koopalings even more confused than before.
"Do you have any idea what his problem is?" Wendy asks Ludwig as they all rush inside, her high heels clacking against the hard flooring.
"I honestly have no clue. It must be drastic, however, with the way he's acting," Ludwig says.
"Something drastic in a publishing place?" Larry points out.
Ludwig narrows his eyes. "Hmm... it is peculiar, isn't it?"
Koopa Troopas and Lakitus dive out of Bowser's way as he barrels down the hallways, scanning the doors until he sees the writing on the last one: "Koopeter - Head of Publishing."
Said writing scatters into shards as he slams open the door, breaking the glass of the door's window upon impact with the wall. The Koopa that was sitting nonchalantly in his seat sits up with bugged out eyes.
"Woah, now!" Koopeter yells out, and then Bowser comes up to his desk. Koopeter sinks into his shell slightly. "I-I mean, what brings you here, T. Ox––uh, Lord Bowser?"
Bowser holds in the shiver of horror at hearing the slip-up, and instead sets his hands on the desk and leans in close enough to hear Koopeter gulp. "Where's that envelope?" he growls out.
"I-I don't got it on me," Koopeter stutters out, rolling back a bit in his chair. "I already gave it to the printing peeps––"
Bowser grabs Koopeter by the front of his shirt, dragging him over his desk. "With my actual name?"
Koopeter nervously chuckles. "...Maybe?"
Smoke starts to rise from Bowser's nostrils as he snarls, narrowing his eyes.
"H-Hey, listen," Koopeter says, waving his hands, "it was an honest mistake, I swear! It had your name so I just assumed that was giving us the A-OK! B-Besides, we haven't printed much yet anyways, just enough to give some to the nearest bookstore! I don't think they've opened yet; you can still catch them!"
Bowser's eyes bulge out as he pushes Koopeter away, making him fall back into his office chair. They've already sent some to a store?! Bowser turns to leave, but then hesitates for a moment before pointing at Koopeter. "You tell them to stop printing anything in my name, and never tell a soul who T. Oxen actually is, or else I'll have your shell, got it?!"
Koopeter eagerly nods as Bowser runs off, leaving Koopaisley standing shocked by the remnants of the door with a mug of coffee in her hands. She peers in the room. "Sir?" she says.
Koopeter just slumps in his chair, limp as a noodle as he slips off and onto the floor.
Bowser catches the Koopalings in the hallway. "Change of plans, we're going to the bookstore!" he commands as he bolts past them, leaving them turning heads.
Roy growls as the group turns around, following Bowser. "What is even going on?" Roy gruffs.
"Maybe he's finally lost it, haha!" Iggy cackles.
Morton hums to himself for a moment. "Maybe they printed something he doesn't want them to print?" he says.
"You might be onto something there, brother," Ludwig says as they continue on.
They all eventually make it back to their clown cars, although of course Bowser has a considerable head start. Bowser thanks the stars above that he knows where the nearest bookstore is because of past trips to get novels for Ludwig, graphic novels for Junior and manga for Iggy.
Bowser has a similarly hasty landing in front of the bookstore, only for his jaw to drop. There is a considerable line in front of the doors, waiting for the store to open––which is apparently right now, as some unenthused-looking employee opens the doors.
Bowser vaults over the side of his clown car, feet pounding against the asphalt as he books it. "Outta the way!" he shouts, giving people enough time to yelp and leap to the side as he rams through with little regard for the queue rope. The doors give a pleasant chime as he busts through, looking to and fro as the queue rope and its holders fall to his feet.
Finally, he spots it: an arrangement of books with a hanging sign above in big letters stating "T. Oxen's Latest" with some bored Toad employee next to it. As he nears it, he can see his actual name on the spine.
Bowser inwardly panics. People are filing into here––he needs to destroy the evidence now.
His nostrils flare and let out tendrils of smoke as he inhales. A spark then ignites in his mouth and he lets out a roar of red-hot fire. By the time the fire alarm rings out and the sprinklers above the display spring into action, the books are a sooty mess––along with the now wide-eyed Toad employee, who coughs out a puff of smoke.
Bowser walks up to her, making those wide eyes even larger. "B-Bowser?!" she exclaims as the sprinklers turn off. She sneaks a peek at the remains of the arrangement beside her. "L-Listen, I didn't know you had beef against, uh, who ever wrote those books I just unboxed!"
He moves his sopping wet hair out of his eyes before leaning down, making her freeze up. "Did anybody get one of these books before I got here?"
"J-Just one," she says, backing up. "Some tall lady, I d-don't know who she is, just that she's a regular."
Bowser stands back up, disbelief in his eyes. The Toad employee takes the opportunity to run away, barely managing not to slip on the puddles of water underneath her as she skedaddles.
Some tall lady? That could be anyone to a Toad, even puny Mario! (Well, excluding the lady requirement.) What if that Toad lives under a rock and doesn't know who Peach is? If Peach got her hands on his poetry, unmistakably listed under his name, he would never be able to recover his image. Even Mario would be laughing at him––
"Bowser?"
A somewhat high-pitched yelp escapes Bowser as he turns to the voice. Icy blue eyes look right at his, without Bowser having to peer down.
He frowns. "Rosalina?" Never before was she the first to approach him. "What––" he begins only to look down and see a book of poetry in her hands. He tenses up.
"Not much surprises me nowadays," she says. "But I was certainly surprised today."
"I––I––" Bowsers trips over his tongue before his mind catches up. He can't be showing any weaknesses! "I-It's slander! Lies and slander! I'd never write any such things!"
"It would technically be libel. And I also thought so as well, initially." Rosalina opens the book. Bowser fights the urge to gulp. "But as a long-time fan of T. Oxen, I scanned these poems and thought back to their previous works..."
"Which shouldn't matter because I'm not him!" Bowser interjects.
She flips through the pages, not missing a beat. "And how being a single parent to several children was a recurring subject, along with unrequited love, tense friendships..." She looks up, her stare cold. "And feelings of inferiority."
He bears his teeth, leaning into her face with a snarl. "What are you implying?!" he barks.
She hums. "First, that you are getting oddly defensive over someone you have already stated is not you." Bowser backs up, clenching his hands. "And second... that I misjudged you."
Bowser drops his hands. "Uh, what?"
She closes the book, her gaze softening. "Ever since our first... encounter, I thought you were nothing but a bumbling boorish brute, and I could not understand why my friends insisted so earnestly to invite you to our parties and sport competitions."
Bowser doesn't like where this is going. "But––But I am a bumbling boorish brute!"
"Now I understand a bit more," she continues on, completely ignoring Bowser's refutations. "It is so clear to me from your poems. You care so much for your family, friends and kingdom and want to prove to them you do so much that you are willing to conquer entire galaxies for them... and you want to prove that you do because you are scared of not being good enough for them."
Bowser splutters. That felt like a critical hit. Still, he tries, "You're pulling things out of thin air! A-And I'm not even the poet!"
Rosalina has the audacity to smirk at him. "I am not yet ready to forgive you for what you did to the Comet Observatory. But perhaps I am more willing to agree with Mario that there is good in you."
"But I'm the baddest of the bad––wait, Mario's been saying what behind my back?!"
"Goodbye, Bowser. Until Friday." She begins to float away.
Bowser spins around, reaching out. "Wait!"
Rosalina peers over her shoulder. "Do not worry. I will not tell others of your second persona. I understand how difficult it can be to come to terms with your feelings."
Bowser becomes slack-jawed as she then flys away. The door chimes again as an exasperated Ludwig opens the front door, making room for Rosalina to exit before entering himself. The rest of the Koopalings follow.
"You really should have specified which bookstore," Ludwig says, walking up to Bowser along with the rest. "We lost sight of you and had to look..." He trails off as he catches sight of the blackened remains of the display. He frowns as he looks to Bowser. "Did you burn those books?!"
"And more importantly, what did you bring us along for, anyway?" Wendy asks with crossed arms. Ludwig gives her the side-eye.
Bowser still stares at the front door, unmoving.
Larry shifts. "Uh... Dad?"
Bowser finally moves with a groan, rubbing his hands down his face. "Just... clean up that mess," he says, dragging his feet as he trudges past them.
"So you had us running about all over the kingdom just to be your janitors?" Roy grouches.
"It'll go by fast with you six," Bowser says before pausing, looking over the group. "Wait, where's Lemmy?"
The Koopalings look around themselves in similar confusion. Then, Morton gasps out. "Lemmy fell out!" Morton breaks down the front doors as he barrels through them in a panic, with Iggy and Larry trampling over the fallen doors as they follow in his wake. Wendy pinches the area in-between her eyes, slowly shaking her head.
"...I'll be waiting in my clown car," Bowser says, walking through the open entrance.
The remaining three turn to the roasted display. The once sturdy table gives a dismal creak as it gives in and falls to the ground in a puff of ash.
"Yeah, I'm not cleaning that," Wendy says before spinning around and exiting the store.
Before the other two can do anything, some Lakitu floats over with an aura just shrieking "the owner," arms crossed as their cloud glares at the two. "Alright, so which of you hooligans is gonna pay for this and other related damages?"
Roy and Ludwig share a glance.
"That––"
"Just bill King Koopa," Roy cuts off Ludwig.
"Gladly," the Lakitu huffs out, their cloud blowing a raspberry before they fly off.
Ludwig gives Roy an unamused look. Roy shrugs. "Hey, he broke it, so he bought it."
Ludwig sighs. "Let's just go and help the others find Lemmy."
Roy nods and turns to leave. Ludwig begins to follow, only for his eye to catch something on the floor: a charred book, although compared to the rest of the destroyed remnants, this one seems to have survived okay. Giving a cursory glance over his shoulder to see Roy not paying attention, Ludwig picks the book up. He squints. The title is hard to make out, but he can at least pick out "poetry".
"Huh." Ludwig slides the book underneath his arm and leaves.
The next few days are tense for Bowser. Rosalina has all the reason to blab on him and smear his image, and yet when the tennis match on Friday comes and goes, not once do people point and laugh at him. Mario and Luigi still give him some stupid smiles, Peach still (cutely) rolls her eyes at him and Daisy still eggs him on to have a match with her. The only one who acts differently is Rosalina, who, instead of coldly ignoring him the whole while, gives him at least one small smile. He's not sure which he prefers.
Despite the huge bump in the road experienced with Koopeter and Koopublishing, Bowser eventually gives them the okay to print and distribute his latest work––underneath his pseudonym, of course. It isn't like he needs the money (although he did get quite the hefty bill from that bookstore the day after), but...
Bowser lets out a breath, setting down his pen––well, a different one, because he can't find his old one, for some reason. Some drafts lie on his once again cluttered desk. Even after that horrendous experience, he is already back to writing poems of the same emotional caliber with the intention of eventually releasing it to the public.
He leans back in his chair, thinking about what Rosalina said. I understand how difficult it can be to come to terms with your feelings, and you are scared of not being good enough for them. Him? Scared? As if!
Yet... he can't help but recall back to when Junior was only recently delivered by stork to him and the Koopalings showed up with no one to go home to. He cared so much for them then as he does now, and he hopes they understand that... because sometimes––he'd admit to himself and only himself––he worries he isn't doing enough. A whole kingdom looks up to him, and he just wants to be the best for them all.
But he isn't scared. Not at all. He just perhaps likes it when a fan of his work expresses how they feel the same or understand him or that he is doing well.
With a shake of his head, he scootches back from his desk and rises, sliding the chair back in. It is nearly dinner time, and he intends to sit through a whole meal with his family.
As Bowser makes his way to the dining room, little does he know that his eldest is flipping through the pages of his latest work (although an earlier edition), reading aloud to his other siblings.
"Huh," Wendy says as Ludwig finishes another haiku, her arms crossed. "I guess Junior had to get his creativeness somewhere."
"Duh," Junior says. "Of course I got it from Papa; he's the best at everything he does!"
A spike of annoyance shoots through Wendy's face, although all she does is roll her eyes.
"The ones about family were reeeally sweet," Iggy cooes, patting his pet Chain Chomp he sits atop of. "Isn't that right, girl?"
Roy sniffles. "Yeah, they were..."
Larry turns to him, an eyebrow quirked. "Are you crying?"
"N-No! I don't cry!" Roy says, crossing his arms as he decidedly looks away.
"Morton liked the sad poems, too," said Koopa chimes in. "They were kinda comforting, actually."
"I liked the happy ones!" Lemmy laughs out, only stopping to wince and rub at the bandaid cross on his head. "Owie."
Ludwig shuts the book and brings his hands to his hips. "Good writing aside, we have to all agree to keep Father's secret to ourselves." He eyes the youngest. "That includes you, Junior."
Junior raises his hands up into the air, a frown on his face. "Why am I getting singled out?!"
Ludwig sighs. "You're right. Everyone here is terrible at keeping shut." He sets his serious gaze back upon the group at large. "But we need to make this promise. He obviously didn't want anyone to figure him out," he waves the book in the air, "and he didn't want us accidentally finding out."
"Oooh, are we doing a blood oath?" Iggy asks, sitting up.
Ludwig narrows his gaze at Iggy. "No."
Iggy shrugs. "Eh, I promise." He then lies down on the Chain Chomp, who barks twice in agreement.
The rest say their own agreement, leaving Ludwig to nod. "Good."
"It's time for dinner!" a distant yell from Kamek rings down the hallway.
With that, the Koopalings and Junior get up and exit Ludwig's bedroom where they had met up, leaving Ludwig by himself. With a content smile, he gives the book one final glance before going up to his bookshelf and sliding it in, right next to the other T. Oxen poetry collections he had gotten previously. He cannot help a chuckle at the coincidence before he leaves, shutting off the room's light.