Hello! Can you do a Hetalia Axis and Allies reaction to someone who doesn’t believe the fem! reader actually has a food allergy and believes she is just ‘being picky’ and makes her eat that food that she is allergic to without her noticing.
~Axis and Allies accidentally poisoning reader~
A/N: I love this request. Anyways, my fbi agent thinks I’m a freak for the stuff I had to research enjoy! (Try to)
Warnings: Allergy attacks, and nasty ahh bodily fluids 😭
-When he finds out you’re allergic to pasta, he actually cries.
-Well, not the actual dish. Just the tomato sauce and its ingredients.
“Bella, no! How can you enjoy pasta without tomato sauce?! It’s a staple!” He sobs into your tummy as you awkwardly pat his head.
“Uhh, Feli.” You giggle, awkwardly. “I can have pasta- but with different sauce.”
-At that, he stops sobbing. And he sits up with a sly grin.
“Oh, you’re right! I’ll be back!”
-He was gone faster than the speed of light, and was back before you could blink.
“Here! Its pasta- but I replaced the tomato sauce with Alfredo sauce! Enjoy!”
-You coo, and thank him. Not noticing the strange pink tint of the supposed Alfredo sauce.
-After a few bites, you feel your skin begin to get unusually itchy.
-You look down, and there’s a rash.
“Feli, what did you?-“ You begin to scratch your arms, but you don’t panic. Instead, you walk off to your room, finding your EpiPen and using it.
-Meanwhile, Feliciano is on the couch about to cry.
-He didn’t mean to poison you! Honest!
“Bella! Please, forgive me! I would never hurt you intentionally. I thought you were playing cruel prank!” He whines in his little accent.
“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“No, bella please!” He whines as you make him grab his pillow and move to the couch.
-Actually begins to tweak out when you say you can’t have pork.
-How will you have bratwurst? He loved to cook that for dinner!
“What.. What do you mean you can’t have pork?”
-Basically, he becomes the ‘tf you mean nuh uh?’ Audio.
“Ludwig, it means I’m aller-“ You try to explain, becoming the walking ‘’ face. But he doesn’t listen.
-He walks off before you can finish, mumbling to himself in incoherent words.
-You laugh at his little tantrum.
-That is, until he comes back with a salad.
“Here, potato salad.” He shoves it over to you without another word.
-In reality, he had cut up tiny pieces of bratwurst
“Uh, ok?” You accept it, and the moment you take a bite your throat swells up.
-You lean over, clenching your throat as you gasp for air.
-Ludwig panics, feeling like a idiot for sneaking the bratwurst into your salad.
“Scheiße! Uh- I will call a ambulance-“
-Once you’re in the hospital, he feels guilt as he sees you resting on it with a sore throat.
“You know, I’m never letting you give me food again.
“Ja, I’m.. a nincompoop.”
-When you tell him you cannot have anything with fish, he doesn’t have a clear reaction.
-He actually just stands there like 🧍🏻
“As I was saying, I’m allergic. You know, like, if I have fish I can actually die?”
“No. You are not allergic. Just picky. I will introduce you to the world of sushi.”
-Despite your genuine complaints, he walks off. Somehow, barely a few minutes after, he comes back with a pack of sushi.
“Here.” He sets the tray down in front of you, despite you pushing it away.
-Just the scent had your eyes go blurry.
“Kiku, I really can’t have sushi. I appreciate it, but-“ He took advantage and shoved a piece into your mouth as you spoke.
-Instantly, you begin to feel nauseous.
“Pills.. side table. Get them-“ You lay on the couch, feeling your vision go blurry.
-He, in panic mode, gets your pills. And it takes a few hours before you’re fully functioning again.
“If you ever-“ You cough. “Do that again, I’m filing a restraining order.”
“I am.. so sorry. It will never happen again.”
-Oh, you’re lactose intolerant?
-To him, it doesn’t exist. So, he doesn’t believe you.
“Uh.. just tolerate it, I guess?” He rubs the back of his neck as he laughs.
-You would normally laugh, but you were a bit pissed considering he wasn’t taking you seriously.
“Alfred. I cannot. Have. Dairy. The bathroom will become a radiation infested war zone.”
-Doesn’t listen. In fact, he forgets about it until you just so happen to mention it at a restaurant a few days after.
-In which, a evil idea occurs.
“Hey, babe!” He slides into your bedroom, handing you a burger. “I got you a burger with no dairy! Y’know, since you can’t tolerate it, or something?”
“Oh- that’s sweet! Thanks.” You take the burger, and on the first bite, you taste the cheese. Cheese which he had cut into tiny pieces.
-A loud groan emits from your stomach when you digest it.
-You were then in the bathroom for two hours, and the noises Alfred heard were.. traumatizing.
-After that whole thing happens, you make him clean the bathroom as punishment.
“Ugh, IT’S BEEN A DAY WHY IS IT STILL SMELLY-“I told you.” You snicker as you recline on the couch.
-When you tell him you’re allergic to beans, he laughs at you.
-Like, right in your face.
“Allergic to beans? You’re quite hilarious! That’s preposterous.” He wipes the tears away from the corners of his eyes.
“Speak English, and I’m not joking.” You deadpan.
-His mood changes in the blink of an eye.
“THIS IS THE QUEEN’S ENGLISH…” He storms off, muttering curses.
-You two don’t talk for a couple hours, until he comes towards your spot in the meeting room.
“Hello, love!” He dawns a suspicious smile. “As an apology for earlier, I’ve made you a sandwich. Enjoy!” He slides it right in front of you.
“Uh, right. Thanks?” You hesitate, before taking a bite.
“There’s.. there’s beans in this.” You begin to hyperventilate, Arthur almost instantly panicking as the other nations watch his ‘murder attempt’
-He rushes you out the room, and finds a EpiPen.
“Christ, I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t know you were actually-“
“You know if you do that again, I’ll die on PURPOSE just to haunt you.”
-Like England, he also laughs in your face.
-But it’s a mocking laugh- like what you said was so funny.
“Allergic to wheat? That is the funniest thing I have ever heard!” He waves you off as you silently fume with a smile.
“Not.. not a joke, Francis. I actually get the worst rashes ever. Wanna see?”
-He pats your head, making you tweak.
“Right, right! And I have one on my ass-“
“FRANCIS I’M BEING SO FOR REAL.”
-He, like America, ends up forgetting this fact- and decides to secretly feed you a ‘gluten free’ bread. (He printed a gluten free label and slapped it on the bag.)
“Enjoy! I made you Pain Perdu (French Toast).” He hands it to you as he begins to eat his own.
“Its.. gluten free, right?”
-You smile, and begin to eat.
-Until you end up running to the bathroom- throwing your guts up.
“Oh- what is the matter? Are you actually allergic to bread?” He holds your hair as he gives a worried look. He hadn’t meant for this!
“You- You did this on PURPOSE?”
-You punched him hard in the gut, making him feel a FRACTION of what you felt.
“Oui… that doesn’t hurt-“ He says as he falls to the floor in tears.
-He genuinely thinks you’re playing when you tell him you ‘can’t tolerate potatoes’
“That’s.. that’s so random. Potatoes?” He asks, staring at you as if you just gave him the juiciest gossip.
-You nod, a bit embarrassed.
“I know, it’s stupid. I don’t know why-“
“Da, I see.” He hums, looking off into space as he comes up with any idea to make you TOLERATE potatoes.
-They’re a staple in Russian dishes.
-So, as he’s cooking one day, he decides to test you. So he makes Zharkoye- a stew with potato. And one you’ve never had.
“Here you go, моя любовь (my love), it’s hot!” He smiles with his eyes shut as he watches you eat.
“Hm, this tastes good, Ivan! What’s in this?”
-He smiles almost insidiously, listing the ingredients.
“Oh, yes. Meat, vegetables, potatoes.”
-You just stare at him like 😀- and the affects are immediate.
-You feel a HUGE headache kick in.
-Ivan watches as you, slowly walk over to the couch, and fall on it with a loud groan. Instantly, he regrets his little ‘test.’ So you weren’t lying, after all.
“My sun, are you-“ You interrupt him. “You better take care of this.” You hiss.
-He does, giving you pills and rubbing your head which is on his lap as he apologizes in his own weird way.
“Honestly, it was just a little test! If I knew you were telling the truth, I would have just made you borscht-“
“Borscht has potatoes, Ivan. Are you trying to kill me?”
“No-“ He flinches when you poke him in the side. “It was supposed to be funny joke!” He whines like a defeated child.
“You are NOT allergic to Sesame oil! Its impossible!” He yells as he grips onto your shoulders.
-Yes, you had a sesame oil allergy. Among others.
“Yao, can’t you just make something without sesame oil? Like tea?”
“No! Sesame oil is important in my cooking! I can’t just.. not use it?” He groans, marching towards the kitchen.
-You sigh, slouching over on your table as you mutter.
-He was cooking Chinese food, particularly Dumpings.
-And when they were done, he called you into the kitchen.
“Try it!” He puts a piece of the chicken in your mouth before he finishes speaking. “Cooked with sesame oil, because I doubt you’re really allergic-“
-You then throw the food out into a trash can as you gag.
“IT’S NOT GROSS, RIGHT?!” He cries.
“I’m ALLERGIC to SESAME OIL.” You cry out as you feel your throat swell and become itchy.
-He panics, finding a nearby EpiPen in the drawer as he injects you with it.
-Once you’re feeling a bit better, you scold the CRAP out of him.
“Next time I tell you I’m allergic- listen! I could have died!” You clench your fists as he just sits on the couch with his head bowed.
“And I’m stealing your panda for the week.”
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