I DON"T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ASSASSINS SOOOO SORRY?

Also, Since I'm busy with other things. Does anyone want to help write reactions or secrets? I'm doing the Mature America, Princess America Reaction, God America Reaction, Fathers of America Reaction, Shy America Reaction, and Old America Reaction. In that Order.

I DO NOT OWN HETALIA

If you want me the make this secret a story tell me!

This is on ao3!

This will be a little dark…

ALSO I MIGHT ACTUALLY DO A REACTION!

ALSO I WILL BE VERY BUSY DURING AUGUST SO THERE MIGHT BE NO UPDATES SOMETIMES SORRY!

Also, What about Lance McClain Oneshots? Vote At the Poll Or Say At the Reviews

Also, I have a YouTube Account! It has nothing to do with Fanfiction but there is Harry Potter and, Drawings, but subscribe to me at channel/UCNatTL7Oo-zFWzabUUA9RFw

I Decided To Do Reaction Oneshots and one of the secrets when I get 250 subscribers on YouTube or 300 Reviews on this fic!

So Subscribe and or review!

SOOOO

Assassin America

Despite the multiple assassin games and movies, the other nations still haven't realized that America himself was an assassin. His assassin outfit was hidden due to his enemies, and no one really asked about his hobbies. But to be fair, America probably wouldn't want to endanger anybody. If any of his enemies found out about the rest of his family, then they'd got after them. They couldn't die, but it would hurt… a lot.

America didn't do it for the money. He did it because of the civil war. Instead of splitting in half, America's personality shifted. He had a more violent and prejudice side. It just felt like a mess. Half the time he was locked in his own room and he never went out, otherwise he'd might hurt others. After the whole war, for some reason that side still stayed. It had dimmed, but it was still there.

There was just this itch that would not go away! He wanted to punch something. This was especially true after all the nations started insulting him and called him a bratty child. It didn't really know him, but after England's tired and annoying moaning about him, all of them assumed that he was just an immature kid. It completely ruined his image and it would never stop. Some of the other nations didn't listen to England, but most of them did.

He'd heard of assassins before, but there weren't in America. During a World Conference, he accidentally met one. The assassin was on the roof of their building, holding a small sleek gun. It looked strange. For some reason the hooded person kept looking through a circular object. Suddenly, they flicked the trigger and a bullet shot out, soaring through the skies. America could faintly hear the glass cracking and the horrified shrieks. He couldn't stop the insane smile pushing up his grin.

"Done,"

America's eyes flickered towards the person, would held a phone against their ear. The assassin looked back, immediately finding him.

Their gun pointed towards him, "Who are you?"

"Just an average human being," America gestured at the gun, "Who are you?"

The person only glanced growled and jumped off the edge of the building. America rushed towards the edge and looked at the hooden person running away. That seemed cool, almost like a superhero… except for the killing part.

After the world conference, America returned to his nation, ready to introduce assassins. He was in a bar, drinking with a couple of buddies. Even if he wasn't allowed to be in the bar, it never stopped him. There were groans from drink people and dull music. The T.V. kept blaring, talking about politicians and successful businessmen.

"I hic, hate that guy…" One of his buddies moaned, half heartedly pointing towards the screen.

America leaned forward as he began to smack talk the guy on T.V. After a while of the drunken talking, he only got more interested.

"That guy shouldn't even, hic, exist,"

"Do you want me to kill him?"

"What?"

"Do you want me to kill him?"

The guy laughed and waved him off, "Sure, kid,"

"So that's a yes?"

"Yeah," The guy mumbled, already occupied with his drink.

America grinned and walked out of the bar.

The next day, he returned to the bar and the guy from last night walked up to him.

"Did you kill him?"

America frowned, "Well, you asked me to,"

He laughed harshly, "He got what he deserved,"

They walked in the bar, his other drunk buddies congratulating him. America just grinned. Over a couple of years, more and more assassins arrived. Some were american, but others came more different nations. Then people started making games and movies and he got more jobs. He didn't care about the money, but all the sneaking around and the screams… His violent side just loved that and he didn't need to do it too much. Only once a month, he'd go out and find an assassin gig. Being too much of a 'hero' made him irritated and tired. Shoutting idiotic and annoying words only gave him an headache. Half the time he didn't remember what he'd say but everyone else didn't remember either. It always seemed to be about heroes, despite his job. Maybe he got it from England. Maybe all the moaning and complaining came from him.

He didn't get caught until several decades into the future. There wasn't a meeting, any plans or work to do and America thought it was the best day to do a gig. He was killing a diplomat in Germany. Apparently he was corrupt or whatever. The guy was too low for America to snipe, so he had to crawl through the vents… Kinda like Spiderman.

Germany's building was massive, with an intricate network of vents. He had to be quick and swift. America looked through each vent, but still couldn't find the diplomat. He had blonde hair, blue eyes and a tough, stocky figure. His voice had a thick accent and a strict posture.

America grinned, spotting a slick blonde hair. He looked to be in a meeting with two other people. America got his gun out, and slowly slid it in between the air vents. He flicked the safety off and kept his finger on the trigger. With one click, the bullet lodged itself into the diplomats skull and he collapsed.

"Germany! Germany!" A voice cried.

America couldn't put his finger on it, but it sounded familiar. Wait, Germany? America finally got a chance to look at his face, all the stress lines, slick hair and the fact that there was no blood alerted him. Did he just kill Germany!? America sighed. Well, great. Suddenly blade sliced the vent he was in and it came crashing onto the floor. He coughed harshly he crawled out of broken metal. Japan stood over him with a massive sword.

"AMERICA?"