A/N~ Since I am not only a writer but also a cosplayer, this idea has been running through my head for awhile. My cousin and I are planning on cosplaying Iceland(myself) and Norway(herself). We both hate Mr. Puffin because of his pedophilic behavior and his weirdness and we enjoy blaming Denmark for the whole situation.


All credit (except for our creativity) to Himaruya

It was early morning in the Nordic household and Norway and Denmark both sat on the kitchen table eating their regular fish and egg dishes.

Iceland had finally locked Mr. Puffin in a crate in his closet after the puffin's most recent pleas of them becoming a couple before coming downstairs to bug his father.

"Father, I want that puffin gone." Iceland said, glaring at his father.

"I bought you him as a pet, don't you love him?" Denmark answered, grinning at his adopted son.

"I hate him! He can talk and wants me to marry him or something! I swear he's planning my death, too. Please, just kill him? I know you still have that axe somewhere." Iceland asked, already knowing Denmark had the axe with him.

"He's been with you since you were a kid... I remember when I bought you it."

"I wanted a puppy, Father."

"Yes, but Mr. Puffin had an attachment to you. All the dogs ran away as soon as we entered the place."

"A cat would've been a better choice, they didn't ran away. This puffin's a sadist!"

"How would you know?"

Iceland, as a last resort, pulled off his jacket and shirt to reveal the peck and claw marks he had received restraining the bird or protecting himself from the various sexual assaults the bird had attempted.

"Well, seeing how I'm all degraded and stuff, I think I know."

"He was such a nice bird though." Norway spoke for the first time, looking over at Iceland.

"Yeah, until its voice changed. Father, just take the damn axe to its head!"

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Denmark asked, sighing as he stood up.

"Well, seeing how much I've already asked, yes, I do." Iceland replied, still worried about if Denmark would actually follow through on the request.

"Were is it?" Denmark walked over to the staircase, holding his axe in his right hand.

"In my closet in the box." Iceland answered, sitting in his father's empty seat.

Denmark finished going up the stairs, shutting Iceland's door behind him.

"You know, Iceland. I wasn't there when you and Denmark went to the barn." Norway said and took a sip of his drink as Iceland pulled his shirt back on.

Iceland sat back and paused, closing his eyes, and thought back to that day...


"Father, I want a pet." Iceland asked, barely aged enough to not wear dresses.

"What would you like?" Denmark smirked, his movements making funny noises due to his armor.

"I want a dog."

"Let us see what we can find." Even though there weren't pet stores back in this time, there were still livery barns that would sometimes have animals living in the barns other than horses.

Surprisingly, Iceland let Denmark hold his hand as they went out into town. The young boy and his arrogant father walked slowly and Denmark had a large smile. He barely ever time with his son and usually what time they had was forced.

When they finally got to the large barn, Denmark's hopes fell that they would find a dog for Iceland. Workers were cleaning out the horses' stalls and, though Iceland didn't notice, all of the dogs that had been inside the barn had ran away.

Cats up in the hay lofts stared down at the father and son, confused as to why they invaded their home.

Iceland let go of Denmark's hand and began to walk around. As Iceland began to climb the ladder up into the loft a strange bird flew in, pooped on Denmark's head, and landed on Iceland's shoulder.

Surprised at his father's cursing and a bird randomly perched on his shoulder, Iceland paused and looked down.

"What is this, Father" Iceland asked and tried to push the bird off of him.

"I think that's a puffin." Denmark said, disgust, and slight amusement, clear in his voice. "He seems to like you."

"I want a dog."

"Well... Let's just take the bird, Iceland." Denmark answered, sighing as he wiped the bird poop off his head with his hankerchief.

"I don't want this thing."

Denmark picked Iceland up and carried him outside, the bird clinging tightly to Iceland's shoulder.

"It can be like a dog though. Maybe you could teach it to bark?"

"Father. I want a dog."

"Well, oh well. You can show it to Sweden when we get home."

As they walked, the bird began to whistle and when they got back to the house it asked, "Well? What's my name?"

Denmark stopped and looked at Iceland, a confused look on his face. "Was that you?"

"No, it was me, idiot!" The bird answered, moving to stand on Denmark's head. Iceland's face paled as he took in the site.

"You should have let me get a dog, Father."

Hearing the noise, seeing how his bedroom is right above the front door, Sweden walked down the stairs to see what was happening.

"Hey, no pets in the house, Iceland." He said with his usual serious demeanor.

"I wanted a dog." Iceland hissed and picked up the bird, throwing it at Sweden.

It hit Sweden in the face and white bird poop dripped down his nose. Iceland smiled slightly as Sweden got angry. Just as Sweden was about to throw the bird back at him, Denmark stood in between the two Nordics and took the bird from Sweden.

"This is my son's bird, Mr. Puffins. I'm the man of this house and I say he can keep it."

End of Flashback~~~

Iceland opened his eyes and looked at Norway.

"You going to miss him?" Norway asked, clearing the breakfast table.

Iceland blinked before answering, "No. Well, I'll miss throwing it at Sweden and Russia."

Shrieking noises came from upstairs following by loud bangs and the sound of cracking wood. Iceland and Norway ran upstairs and opened the door to see Denmark breathing heavily and feathers and blood everywhere.

Denmark's shirt was torn and he was bleeding from multiple scratches and poop dripped down his face. Iceland's room was in disarray. His bed, dresser, and other furniture were in pieces and I huge crack pierced his TV.

Mr. Puffin lay dying in a pile of his feathers and blood. He was barely able to cough, "I bet you love Cuba, bastard," before his eyes closed.

Norway ran over to Denmark and unbuttoned his shirt to inspect his wounds. Iceland looked over his room in disbelief and angst at the destruction before walking over to the bird.

"I hated you. I've always hated you. But no, it wasn't Cuba. Yeah, I love my family. But definitely not Cuba." Putting a sheet over the bird's body, Iceland began to step hard on it's head, blood seeping through the cloth.

He wanted to make sure the creepy, pedophilic, thing was dead.

A/N~ Not as good as I had hoped... Sorry guys. I want to put up more Hetalia oneshots~ Please review!