#Assassin's Creed X Hitman crossover

[47-shades-of-hitman]

In Your Likeness | Chapter 6 - Bruised ego and painful memories

Agent 47 sat idly on a chair in Mr Howard’s office, facing Diana, who had taken place behind it per Howard’s earlier insistence. She had a pile of papers in front of her, her fingers steepled together under her chin, auburn hair tucked neatly into her trademark bun. The navy of her dress was nearly black in the dim light of the lamp standing a little away, which was emitting an odd, orange light.

“So, what have you learned so far? Any ideas on how you plan on bringing this mission to a successful end? Thoughts on your partner?”

He cleared his throat. “Miss (L/n) is… Kind. We’ve been training together for a few days now.”

“How does she fight? Capable enough?” Diana quizzed, jotting something down onto a file with a fountain pen the same shade as her nails.

“I believe so. It’s surprising how fast and agile she is.”

“Very good.” Diana gestured towards 47. “Elaborate, if you will.”

Agent 47 shifted in his seat.

“She’s cunning and quick and uses techniques I would never have thought of. Did you know that the best Assassins can perform something named a Leap of Faith? They throw themselves off somewhere high and then land safely in shrubbery or something soft, as if they’re diving. It’s fast and efficient – where I lack quick climbing skill, never really needing it, she can be on top of a large building in a matter of seconds and leap back off before I can even reach halfway up.”

“Higher grounds.” Diana commented. “Efficient in the art of scaling, then. Anything else?”

“Their wrist-blades. I believe she calls it a hidden blade. When she flicks her wrist, it expands and can easily stab someone a few inches deep. Convenient for quick attacks.”

Diana nodded, seemingly impressed by the findings. “That’s it?”

“No. She uses her enemies’ bodies to get herself where she needs to be, that way she can successfully throw people off, stagger and kill with just one move. It’s interesting to analyse.”

“Do you feel like you’re able to go on your first mission together, then? Did you read the files I handed you earlier?”

“I can do it on my own, too,” 47 said, “since the contract consists of just two targets.”

“Nothing of that, 47. This first mission is meant to see how you’re working together in the field. Should things not work out or get out of hand, the damage isn’t too severe and we know that we should find another way of solving Caelum. For now, this is what – and whom – you have to work with.”

 A little away, you sat in Miranda’s office, flicking through the documents regarding the mission at hand – Karl Wasserman and his new wife Georgina Johnson, owners of a high-end perfume line, found themselves in fraudulent affairs with an Egyptian whitewashing company and thus, a client wanted to see them out of business.

It wasn’t too bad, but to you it was quite new; The Brotherhood of Assassins never really worked with contracts requested by individuals – your mission laid with maintaining peace for the public and protecting it at all costs. A killer for hire was not something you saw yourself as.

“(Y/n), the Eldest requires your presence.” Miranda informed you, typing away at her computer. “He says to meet him in his office in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” you said, standing up and putting away the folder.

You set for the Eldest’s office and found yourself standing at the door, waiting for Mr Howard.

Hearing muffled voices, you recognized one to belong to 47 and the other to Diana. It was difficult to make out, but you caught a few lines nevertheless.

“…But coming back to the subject of agility. Scaling buildings and parkour, is it something you can see yourself doing?”

“I’m not too sure. Miss (L/n) seems eager to teach me, but our way has proven to be perfect for decades. Why change it now?”

“You need to know each other’s methods to prevent miscommunication and confusion.”

You raised an eyebrow, not too amused with hearing of his doubts, but then, you thought it wasn’t too great of a plan either. Sure, Agent 47 was a skilled killer, you had to give him that, and he hadn’t done anything unkind to you other than aiming a gun at you during your first meeting.

In the end, you were both lone wolves. What good would it do to actually go on missions together which didn’t directly affect Caelum, like the contract you had just studied? You’d only weigh each other down.

“This is a situation none of us had foreseen.” Diana said, “We just need to deal with it in this way now. It’s too dangerous to send you both in individually. You know Providence, but you don’t know the Templars. Miss (L/n) knows the Templars, but not Providence. Both of our institutions do not fully trust each other blindly, so we agreed upon sending both sides into the battlefield. Plus, this is too large to tackle on your own. We need an extra pair of eyes.”

“Couldn’t you have asked Lucas?” 47 quizzed.

“No,” Diana said, “We need him for other things in this project. And as I said, both compan—”

“Are you eavesdropping?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at a sudden, unknown voice behind you. Instincts kicking in, you moved within a second, slamming the stranger against the wall, hidden blade at their throat. It was a man in his early-to-mid fifties – wholly unfamiliar to you – with salt-and-pepper-coloured hair and stormy eyes.

“Who are you? You don’t work here.”

You angled your blade a little, allowing him to move his head a bit upwards, away from it.

“My name is Lucas Grey. I arrived here this morning. I’m part of operation Shalom.”

You huffed, releasing him immediately as you recognized the name, embarrassment creeping up your cheeks and neck. “Right... I ah… I apologise.”

“No harm done. You must be Miss (L/n), then.”

You nodded and crossed your arms, stepping away from him.

“They’re in there, in case you were wondering.”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.” Lucas stated.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Were you eavesdropping on them?”

“No.” you lied, “I was waiting for them to be done discussing whatever they’re talking about. Mr Howard told me to meet him here in a bit.”

As if on cue, the doors of the office swung open and revealed both Diana and 47.

“Ah, I see you met Mr Grey.” Diana said.

“Yeah.” you replied, mentally adding ‘and he met my blade’, feeling ashamed regarding your childish response to his sudden appearance, even though he had said that there was no harm done.

Mr Howard approached and gestured towards the room so that you would enter.

Your gaze briefly crossed 47’s and you gave him an awkward smile, passing him and sitting down in the chair where he had been sitting previously. It was still warm-

-Wait, why would you even notice that? You shifted a little.

Diana and Mr Howard exchanged some quick words.

Meanwhile, 47 and Lucas stood a little behind them, muttering amongst themselves, and then briefly looked at you. You threw one leg over the other to shield your discomfort while you wondered if they were talking about you. Activating your eagle eye to focus on their conversation didn’t help at all, either.

Mr Howard soon entered the office and closed the doors, breaking your line of vision.

“So, (Y/n). We have a lot to go over.”

You hummed in agreement, folding your hands in your lap. “What do you want to know, sir?”

“How are you experiencing this alliance so far?”

“Well, Agent 47 is certainly a man who knows what he’s doing. He’s capable albeit a bit stiff, but there is potential to work together, sir.”

Mr Howard sat down and put on his reading glasses, running a hand through his beard.

“What’s his way of operating?”

“Silent, unseen, avoiding collateral damage as much as possible. The ICA holds a whole arsenal of resources he can use, varying from explosives to poisons and melee weapons. It’s interesting. Sir.”

Mr Howard nodded, scribbling something down. He looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

“He told me he uses disguises as well. Knocks people out and takes their clothes in order to blend in, sir.”

You rubbed your arm and leaned back a little. “He hides in plain sight, sir.”

“Does he use higher or lower grounds?”

“Lower, sir.” Mr Howard wrote something down.

“Do you see yourself working on a contract with him?”

“Sir, I am not sure if this is what we stand for as the Brotherhood of Assassins. The people involved are all elite, they don’t intervene with the peace of the common people and—”

“That is none of your concern, (Y/n). A contract is a contract and you are going to fulfil it together.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded.

“You need to show us how you collaborate on the work field, hence why we have given you such a simple contract to carry out. We need to see if this goes well before trying to tackle anything greater. Behind the scenes, we’re preparing a lot. Your opinions on the matter are in this case to be disregarded of. Do you understand me?”

You bowed your head. “Naturally, sir. I apologise for doubting your choices, sir.”

Mr Howard put down his pen and folded his hands in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to ask you something.”

“Of course.”

You straightened your back, shifting to the edge of your chair.

“You know that I am growing older. Next spring, I’ll be seventy-five years of age. In five years, I am retiring from my work as the Eldest of Council. We need new members on the Council, and I wanted to ask you if you were open to that. You’ll start in the lowest rank, of course, but you’ll be able to climb over time. That way, our people can shift one rank up and you’ll be added.”

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. “Oh, you’re catching me off-guard, sir. That is quite the request you’re making.”

He kindly smiled at you. “We want you to become a teacher and mentor as soon as you turn forty.” Your stomach churned – it would mean that you’d be given less action and mainly teaching, but your body would eventually not allow that much action anymore, anyway – “And also take up a position in the Council. You’re one of the best Assassins we’ve ever had, and given that there are no descendants to the (L/n) line, we need you to teach the younger ones.”

Biting back a sarcastic remark on both you and your brother being childless, you once again bowed your head. “I’m honoured, sir. Do you allow me to think it over?”

“Of course,” he replied, “But know this. In order for you to be promoted, we need you to work along with Operation Shalom. Give us your all.”

“Always, sir.” you said, “Is there anything else you need to know, sir?”

“For now, you’re dismissed.” he said, “If I require your presence, you’ll know.”

You stood and straightened your back, bidding the Eldest of Council a good day before leaving the office.

 You didn’t feel like seeking out 47, opting for the training hall on your own.

Hearing him talk about not really needing you during his mission had struck a raw nerve –

 “- I don’t need you, (Y/n). Trust me, I’ve got this.”

 You closed your eyes, slamming down onto the punching bag with immense force.

Your mind was there again; Half a decade ago, the evening before your brother headed on the mission that would turn out to be his last. Anger and sorrow tugged at your heartstrings with every blow you punched into the bag, crying out behind the force of your protected fists.

 “Joseph, I don’t mind coming along. An extra pair of blades will only make it easier.”

“You have plenty of other things to do. And it will be good for me to slash up some Templars to take my mind off… You know.”

 Sweat travelled down your brow as you kicked your leg up at liver-height, the chains holding the bag up rattling at the disturbance.

 “Okay. Be careful, Joey.”

“Of course, (Y/n)-ey. I know what I’m doing.”

 Your flushed, sweaty cheeks masked the single tear escaping your eye perfectly.

You felt your wrist jolt in pain, but no matter – it was nothing compared to the pain of grief tugging tearing at your heart.

With a groan, you concluded your onslaught on the training bag, panting heavily, wiping your brow with the towel that hung around your neck.

“Are you alright?”

Sebastian approached with in his hand a bottle of cold water, handing it to you.

Quickly taking off the wrappings around your hands, you smiled and took it, gulping it down greedily.

“I’m fine. Just a bit… Frustrated with some annoying Templars who pushed my buttons this morning.” you lied. It felt bad to not tell him the truth, but secrecy was important.

“Did they provoke you?”

“They eventually regretted trying to do so.”

Seb chuckled a little. “That’s the (Y/n) I know!”

A smirk tugged at your lips and you buried your face into the towel, patting away the sweat.

“So, what’s new today?”

“Ah, nothing really.” Sebastian responded. “Laura cut a wrong wire which caused his internet to be fucked up for the rest of the morning.”

“Typically Laura.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Women, am I right?” Seb jokingly added, earning a lethal glare from you.

“I’m only kidding, women are perfectly capable of—”

“I know, Seb!” you laughed, hitting his chest playfully.

He grabbed your wrist and pushed you back a little.

“Wanna fight, huh?” you taunted with a grin, causing him to hop into a fighting stance, and you were about to lightly jab at his stomach when you heard someone clearing their throat behind you.

“Am I interrupting something?” 47 asked.

“Most certainly not.” you dryly replied, your playful demeanour replaced by severity.

“Ah, Tobias, this is Sebastian, he works in IT. Seb, this is Tobias, the exchange Assassin I told you about.”

They shook each other's hand a bit awkwardly, and Sebastian backed away slightly.

“I’ll eh… I’ll leave you two be.”

“Thank you for the water.” you told him upon his departure, but he rushed away with sudden urgency, seemingly uncomfortable.

“That’s your friend, then?”

You nodded. “He’s a bit of a dork, but I love him like family.”

47 hummed. “I supposed that we would meet up to discuss our mission.”

“Of course,” you said, “But I feel like I should shower first. Meet me upstairs in twenty.”

Agent 47 agreed on that idea to be best.

You withdrew to your bathroom, stripping down, running a quick shower.

After refreshing, you went to see 47, finding him where you had told him to meet you.

“Come with me.” you said, leading him to a more secluded area where you could talk over your files in peace, without Council members scurrying around, which would only cause distraction by typing away at documents and making phone calls.

 “Sit.” you gestured to an empty seat, putting the folder on the large table in the middle of the room, stepping over to the wall to reveal the expanse of a skylight in the ceiling, water floating on top of it, appearing to the outside world as a pond. It allowed light to stream into the room and you sighed. “That’s better.”

You sat down next to 47, unfolding the papers in front of you, laying them out on the surface of the table.

“Karl Wasserman and Georgina Johnson. Newly wed, hopelessly in love, inseparable.” you said, turning to the hitman next of you.

“What can you tell me about how this works? Contracts, I mean. I rarely prepare this thoroughly for missions. Schedules always change, anyway. All I need are my eagle vision and my hidden blades. Never have any trouble.” Well, that was a lie, “Usually.” you added.

“Well, as you may have noticed, the ICA has received a contract from a client. Diana has collected all intel for me and then leaves me to prepare. I pick a few items to bring and let her know what I need. Then, I’m sent out to the target’s location and either slip in or go undercover.”

“A lot of work, then.” you mused. “How do you handle emergencies? Collateral damage and all?”

Agent 47 let out a sound. “Differently than you. The first time I ran into you, you had killed a whole bunch of politicians.”

“They were all Templars. My target happened to be among them.”

“So you don’t kill just your target?”

“It’s collateral damage we’re talking about, 47. Not actual enemies. Those Templars were my enemies.”

“How can you be sure that they were connected to them?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “No, the large Templar cross stitched on their sleeves isn’t a dead giveaway.”

47 was unaffected by your scowl.

“Right. I suppose that’s where we differ. I only kill my target and you kill your target plus all the Templars you encounter.”

“One Templar less is one step closer to protecting the Pieces of Eden. Are you telling me that you’ve never had to kill someone else while on a mission?”

“Of course I did.”

“Well, then. What’s the problem?” you snapped, prickly.

“There is no problem. It will be if you make it one.” he calmly stated.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Fine. Let’s just go over this contract and get it over with. It’s not like you need me, anyway.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he quizzed.

“I overheard you talking to Diana.”

“You were eavesdropping.”

“No—Actually, yeah, but that’s not the point, I’m just…”

You deeply inhaled, not wanting to let your chagrin take the better of you. You were an adult, for fuck’s sake, and the last thing you wanted to be petty to an assassin you tried building a friendship with. Ageing did not cause it to be easier to make friends.

And so you sighed, folding your hands in front of you. “I’m sorry.” you said. “I let my emotions become the better of me, it’s just… I don’t like feeling unnecessary.”

“Why do you think you’re unnecessary?”

“You said you’d rather do this contract alone.  That I’d only weigh you back.”

“Well, don’t you think of it the same way, then? That you’d rather go on your own as well?”

You were overreacting – you knew it, but it had triggered some locked away memories about your brother. It was too soon to pour out your heart, let alone to a man who you barely knew and who didn’t know how emotion worked, and thus, you bit your lip, swallowing it away.

“We both aren’t too happy with those circumstances. Let’s just make the best of it. The sooner it’s done with, the better, right?”

47 agreed with a nod.

You reached for your papers, seeking intel on the first target, but you flinched as your hand hit the side of the table in your movement. You had forgotten about punching the bag the wrong way earlier.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” you said, holding your wrist. “Just a little accident during my earlier training. It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

Agent 47 looked at your hand. “Let me see.” he stated, not even a question. He gently took your wrist in his hand, his skin surprisingly warm to the touch. His fingers were soft safe from his trigger finger, which now traced along the purpling hue on your wrist. “That seems like quite the bruise.” he muttered. “Maybe try some ice-”

“I said that it will be fine. Stuff like this happens all the time. I’m sure that one of my toes has been broken before, too, but I’ve never gotten it checked out. It’s still a little crooked, but it barely hurts anymore. This is not even half as bad and will be gone soon.”

“If you say so.” 47 said, releasing your hand, turning back to the table. “Let’s talk about Karl Wasserman. Have you thought of any method you’d prefer to use?”

You soon joined in, discussing your findings, yet your hand laid limply in your lap, utterly relaxed despite the slight pain you felt. Your skin was turning blue and angry, but for some reason, 47’s touch lingered.

Shaking it off, you focused on the matter at hand, deciding upon the way Wasserman should die.

[ao3feed-doctorwho]

Danganronpa Between Worlds 2: Between the Minds

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2GMfXGO

by GoldenCityBird

A blue vixen wakes up, finding herself in a cruel game of murder.

Part 2 of my killing game crossover series. Knowledge of part 1 not needed.

Words: 4276, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Danganronpa Between Worlds

Fandoms: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Full Metal Panic, Doctor Who (2005), 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney, Sly Cooper (Video Games), Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Star Fox Series, The X-Files, 食戟のソーマ | Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma, Hitman (Video Games), アグレッシブ烈子 | Aggressive Retsuko | Aggretsuko (Anime), Housepets!, Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types, Freefall (Webcomic), IT Crowd, Zootopia (2016)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Characters: Chidori Kaname, Eleventh Doctor, Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey, Carmelita Fox, Evie Frye, Krystal (Star Fox), Fox Mulder, Nakiri Erina, Nanami Chiaki, Agent 47 (Hitman), Retsuko (Aggressive Retsuko), Peanut Butter Sandwich, Sonic the Hedgehog, Sam Starfall, Roy Trenneman, Nick Wilde, Usami | Monomi, Monokuma (Dangan Ronpa)

Additional Tags: Fan Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa)

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2GMfXGO

[ao3feed-assassinscreed]

Danganronpa Between Worlds 2: Between the Minds

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2GMfXGO

by GoldenCityBird

A blue vixen wakes up, finding herself in a cruel game of murder.

Part 2 of my killing game crossover series. Knowledge of part 1 not needed.

Words: 4276, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Danganronpa Between Worlds

Fandoms: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Full Metal Panic, Doctor Who (2005), 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney, Sly Cooper (Video Games), Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Star Fox Series, The X-Files, 食戟のソーマ | Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma, Hitman (Video Games), アグレッシブ烈子 | Aggressive Retsuko | Aggretsuko (Anime), Housepets!, Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types, Freefall (Webcomic), IT Crowd, Zootopia (2016)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Characters: Chidori Kaname, Eleventh Doctor, Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey, Carmelita Fox, Evie Frye, Krystal (Star Fox), Fox Mulder, Nakiri Erina, Nanami Chiaki, Agent 47 (Hitman), Retsuko (Aggressive Retsuko), Peanut Butter Sandwich, Sonic the Hedgehog, Sam Starfall, Roy Trenneman, Nick Wilde, Usami | Monomi, Monokuma (Dangan Ronpa)

Additional Tags: Fan Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa)

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2GMfXGO

[ao3feed-danganronpa]

Danganronpa Between Worlds 2: Between the Minds

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2GMfXGO

by GoldenCityBird

A blue vixen wakes up, finding herself in a cruel game of murder.

Part 2 of my killing game crossover series. Knowledge of part 1 not needed.

Words: 4276, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Danganronpa Between Worlds

Fandoms: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Full Metal Panic, Doctor Who (2005), 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney, Sly Cooper (Video Games), Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Star Fox Series, The X-Files, 食戟のソーマ | Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma, Hitman (Video Games), アグレッシブ烈子 | Aggressive Retsuko | Aggretsuko (Anime), Housepets!, Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types, Freefall (Webcomic), IT Crowd, Zootopia (2016)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Characters: Chidori Kaname, Eleventh Doctor, Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey, Carmelita Fox, Evie Frye, Krystal (Star Fox), Fox Mulder, Nakiri Erina, Nanami Chiaki, Agent 47 (Hitman), Retsuko (Aggressive Retsuko), Peanut Butter Sandwich, Sonic the Hedgehog, Sam Starfall, Roy Trenneman, Nick Wilde, Usami | Monomi, Monokuma (Dangan Ronpa)

Additional Tags: Fan Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa)

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2GMfXGO

[47-shades-of-hitman]

In Your Likeness | Chapter 1 - Common grounds

Chapter 1 | Common grounds

Chapter warnings: Violence, blood, political conflict

For all tags, see AO3 : GoingHaywire

For more information, join my Hitman related Discord server

“Welcome to Jerusalem, 47.” Diana Burnwood’s voice stated through Agent 47’s earpiece. He stood as usually taciturn and obedient, analysing his surroundings. On the expanse of his head laid a kippah, donned as a distraction, out of place compared to the crisp black suit barely matching it.

But then, men of Jewish descent had no set appearance, so no one would question him too much. Not when he was in the holiest city of them all.

“Before you, you see the building of The Knesset, which holds the unicameral legislative branch of the Israeli government. Naturally, a restless country like this one has a fair bit of security around its political buildings. Despite its youth, this land holds secrets, one of them going by the name of Ewald Cohen. A powerful Jewish man, currently seeking aid for a wicked plan dabbling into force-migration. Long story short, he pleas for a Palestinian removal act. Our client wants him out of business, as to be expected. And so, it shall be done. Good luck, 47. And remember, I know it’s unlike you, but no unnecessary blood, especially not in there. It would mean a lockdown of the city, and the last thing we need is ourselves blowing our own cover.”

Agent 47 let his icy eyes take in every inch of the building before him – yellow brick, like a large box placed in the middle of a city, yet it had something of a temple – something ancient, like Jerusalem itself. He was not one for pretty architecture, though found interest in knowing how to get in – and out.

The way he looked now, he knew there would be no way that he could get past security without being frisked – if he took the main entrance, that was. Metal-detecting gates would be too troublesome at the moment. And without the correct papers, he wouldn’t get past the front desk, not with all those guards around.

The first thing one would notice was the plenty presence of soldiers, standing on watch. Judging by the stance of one of the younger men, 47 deduced that the change might soon be there. He should take advantage of it, knock one of them out and don a disguise. In the crowd, he’d be hardly noticed.

Deciding it the best approach, he made his way to a more secluded area, successfully knocking out a guard after distracting him, and put on his uniform. He discarded of his suit and the kippah by stuffing them into the stranger’s backpack, hiding the unconscious body of the soldier in the shrubbery. 47 brought the backpack with him, going forth.

In the distance, doors opened. Right in time, he thought to himself, creeping back to the place where the guard had stood. A new row of guards went up to the ones standing at the gates, freshly uniformed and without dark circles under their eyes, like the ones that the men at the gate had been sporting.

A wordless exchange, 47 mimicked his temporary peers with a gesture to the side of the head, saluting them. One of them raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with the piercing blue eyes meeting his.

But then, the IDF stood never still in the stream of new guards, with drafted soldiers in their late teenage years obligated to serve a short time. There would be new recruits every time of day, so there lingered no long suspicion.

He followed them inside, proceeding through the halls until they stopped at what seemed like a canteen. It had never been so easy to march into such an important building with an automatic weapon in hand.

“I hadn’t noticed you taking over Adam’s shift.”

Agent 47 had already taken off the boots he had been wearing - a size too small - when he noticed that he was being spoken to. Before him stood a young man, no older than twenty-five, a toothpick between his chapped lips.

“Oh, yes. Adam felt ill so I was sent to take his place.”

“I don’t recognise you.”

“I haven’t been here for long.”

“You don’t seem to be drafted, either. What’s a man of your age doing in the lowest rank?”

47 sighed, feigning exhaustion. “Listen, yadid. I’ve been standing all day and I’m tired.”

The young man let out a scoff. “I’m not your friend, old man. Well then, guess your age is getting the better of you. Have fun returning home with your walking stick.”

“Shlomo!” a man of higher status called, sending him a warning glare. “Stop picking on our new recruits.”

With a shake of his head, the young soldier named Shlomo, so it seemed, stalked off.

Agent 47 was soon done dressing himself, hiding his pistol in the safety of his suit. He arose and set to the exit, pushing way through the business of the canteen, ignoring cheers to stay a bit longer, and was soon standing in the main hall.

A trained hitman like him had no trouble in making his way to the conference room. Diana stated through his earpiece that it would be plausible that the target would be roaming around there, for she had figured out that his so called bill of Palestinian removal was moving up in the list of cases to be discussed.

47 moved stealthily through the halls, successfully knocking out every burden in his way. He remembered what Diana had said – no unnecessary damage, just Mr Cohen. This city was desired and dangerous, and he knew. Any other important politicians meeting their end would mean disaster. Not that 47 ever caused collateral damage, anyway, unless utterly necessary.

A waft of the smell of blood pricked in his nose when he turned the corner, immediately pressing himself against the wall to eventually stay out of someone’s line of sight. Silence, but the scent was there, and he was certain that it didn’t come from his own doing.

“Tread carefully, 47.” he heard through his earpiece, his handler noticing as well that something was off. The smell, the eerie silence, almost as unnatural as 47’s own movements, stiff and overly calculated.

Something was not right. The air was denser than usual, for where he was usually the threat, he experienced uneasiness, like he was in danger as well.

It was a feeling unfamiliar to him – what was causing him such a notion?

Then, noise from the room where he was creeping next to.

He proceeded on through the hall, momentarily focussing on what was going on in the adjacent room. Noise, albeit stifled. A whimper, though muffled, so it seemed. Footsteps… He pressed himself against the wall a bit tighter, trying to listen in on what was going on in the main room.

A soft rustle of fabric whilst someone slipped through the heavy doors at the end of the hallway, closing them as quietly as they could.

Clad in dark, supple cotton and leather, hooded, a pine-green sash hanging over one of their shoulders. The insignia on the fabric was immediately recognisable. From under the hood, a pair of piercing eyes shimmered as they moved to look behind them, alarmed by his proximity.

Agent 47 moved instantly, alerted by their presence. This had never happened before, despite the feud he had sometimes heard about. Now that he encountered one of them for himself, things ought to get clearer. He didn’t hesitate to draw his gun, silencer tightly screwed onto the front.

The stranger had noticed him, too. A small, silver handgun laid in a gloved hand, barrel pointed right at him.

“Well, well…” the figure stated, female, judging by the sound and pitch. “How interesting. A hitman and an Assassin walk into a foreign parliament building. Says one to the other—”

“Who are you?” 47 interrupted, making the Assassin chuckle.

“No, you’re ruining my joke. Says one to the other—”

Agent 47 clicked the safety off of his gun. “I asked you something.”

She stepped closer, the sound of her thigh-high boots muffled against the carpet. “Let me counter that question, sir .” Her voice was thick with disdain. “You work for the ICA, do you not? Actually, don’t answer that question, I know you do.”

She halted in front of him, their guns still aimed at each other. She sniffed nonchalantly. “Do you see this insignia, sir?” She pointed at the buckle on her belt, then the one on the gauntlet around her arm. Its blade was stained with fresh blood.

“The Brotherhood of Assassins.” 47 said.

“Correct. Listen, sir. I know what you’re here for, but I suggest that you walk straight out of that door. I arrived here first. Deed’s already done.”

Agent 47 held his stoic expression, unfazed by the gun aiming at him. It wasn’t like his opponent was scared, either.

“Who is your contract?” he asked her.

“Does it matter? Whoever you’re after, they’re dead. Get out, before I stain the carpet unnecessarily. Would be a shame if your pretty eyes were to be closed forever, too. Poor Mr Rosenthal didn’t know what was coming to him. He had nice eyes as well. They’re dull, now.”

47 pressed the barrel of his silencer against her forehead. With a gentle nudge, he forced the hood off her head. It revealed the female Assassin to be younger than him, (h/c) hair conveniently pulled back into a braid.

“Shoot me, then. It would be unwise, though. The world lacks good Assassins.”

It was almost sickening, the way this woman lacked fear of death despite being so intimately involved with it. She spread her arms, dropping her gun to the ground. “Go on.” she pressed.

Agent 47 narrowed his eyes. Why wouldn’t he? Her (h/c) hair framed her taunting face, a wicked smirk spreading over her lips. “You’re hesitating…” She pressed her forehead a bit firmer against the gun. “Why… Are you… Hesitating…?” Her voice had become a whisper.

Agent 47 tilted his head slightly, taking her in completely, trying to calculate her next move. The odds were all against her, so why was she so cocky? Her (e/c) eyes shimmered in the dim light of the spots mounted on the wall, playful almost, careless.

“I thought your Brotherhood trained more capable Assassins.”

“Oh, but I am. I’m the best one they have, mind you.”

“Hence the way you act.”

She let out a chuckle and pursed her lips slightly. “Oh, alright… I know when I can take risks. Really, mister. I suggest you turn around and walk out that door, because I am not afraid of you.”

Slowly, he lowered the barrel of his gun. Gaze fixated upon her still, he took a step back. He towered well above her, yet she knew no fear of death. Quite the contrary, she laughed it in its face.

Agent 47 sighed, gesturing at the door leading away from him. “Get out now and I’ll let you live.”

The Assassin remained nailed to the ground, hands folded on her back now, staring at him unfazed.

“It’s officially against the rules to kill people who aren’t involved with the target.” he dryly stated,

“Let me guess. The unofficial version is a lot bloodier?”

“No one will question my disposal of one of a rival organisation’s puppets.”

“Says the man working for the ICA. If there’s a puppet here, it’s you.”

For a split second, it threw him off-guard, something that had never happened before – but now it did, and before he could bash the back of his gun against her temple to knock her out, he was blinded by thick, grey smoke. He coughed, disoriented, staggering backwards as a light laugh echoed through the halls, just as taunting as her gaze had been.

“Too late…” she sang, “Sorry, should’ve pulled the trigger. By the way, you aren’t the only one with rules like those. The reason why I let you live. Don’t forget to close the door after you leave, sir. It would be disastrous for the electricity bill.” The sound of her boots was faintly audible, and when the smoke died down, 47 remained on his own, opting to not go after her.

He straightened his tie, sighed deeply, and proceeded to push on through his mission.

“What can you tell me about her?” he quizzed Diana when he was about to push open the doors.

“She comes from the Brotherhood of Assassins. I believe she’s from the (L/n) bloodline. The ICA has encountered them more than once. Truly dangerous, those ones. I suggest you keep an eye out, 47. You never know who lingers in the shadows.”

He wrapped his gloved hand against the handle of the door, holding his gun close as he pushed it open.

“Didn’t she mention a contract named Rosenthal? Who was that target?”

“Yes, she must’ve mistakenly thought that your contract was on his head, as well. No, Ser Isaac Rosenthal is – or was, in better terms now - a Templar mole infiltrating the Israeli government. Turns out, they have found out his true identity. As you know, the Templars are the sworn enemies of the Brotherhood of Assassins. Focus on the matter at hand, 47. You should hurry now, before people come looking at what’s going on.”

The stench of blood became even more pungent when 47 pushed on through the heavy doors, being met with several dead bodies, adorned with red slits on their throats. Carefully, he stepped over the corpses, identifying them one by one.

“None of them is Cohen.”

“That means that she hasn’t stolen our kill. That precludes further feud along this path. So, I suggest you make haste. This is taking way longer than it should and people will catch up.”

The agent walked out of the room again, seeing no other exit than the one where he entered. He went to the large hallway again, trying to blend in as well as he could. Where he had left his soldier’s disguise to be in the hallway right in the army’s canteen, he now chose the façade of a rich businessman.

Scanning the crowd, he tried to find Ewald Cohen. It wouldn’t be too difficult, for the man’s bulky build could hardly be missed. Somewhere in the back of the building, he could hear people panicking, presumably caused by the finding of five dead men.

“Find him, 47, and be quick.” Diana spurred on before the line quieted again.

It took a few minutes to find Cohen’s office, where said man was dictating a letter to his secretary. The young woman penned along rapidly, frightened to lose her job if she didn’t.

“…However, where the amendment of freedom lay, I must counter that we are a state of sovereignty and thus allowed to proceed with removing… Hey, what was that?”

The clink of the coin 47 had tossed onto the tiles pulled him out of his speech. “Go look.” he ordered his secretary, sighing as she stalked off to check out the noise. Cohen sat in his chair, folding his hands on his large stomach. His chair creaked dangerously and the man seemed out of breath from just walking.

With an aim like no other, 47 pointed his gun at the hook of the painting that hung on the wall above Cohen’s desk. He took his shot – the hook broke and the large canvas fell onto the bookcase below with a dry thud.

Ewald looked behind him, eyes widening at the sight of the canvas toppling over, crashing down on top of him. The chair creaked under the unfamiliar pressure, finally giving out. Cohen fell from his seat, landed on his butt and thus, cracked his spine. The weight of the painting suffocated him, killing him in mere seconds.

The secretary returned richer a penny – the sound that left her throat proved imminent doom. Silently, the Agent who just successfully killed his target slipped out of the room, away from possible suspicion.

“Ewald Cohen is eliminated. Good work 47. Now, proceed to leave the building, and make sure that you aren’t caught.”

47 frowned, unsure of why Diana would add such a thing after her sentence. She never told him to watch out after an elimination, trusting him to be discreet as always.

He slinked up a few flights of stairs, trying to act natural whenever he passed by some people. His strangely stiff composure would give him away one day.

The door to the rooftop wasn’t too hard to find, marked with a unevenly blinking exit-sign right above. He went through it, hearing it click in its lock behind him. Upon stretching his shoulders to prepare himself for his climb down, a voice behind him spoke;

“Why didn’t you do it?”

Agent 47 had his hand on his gun right away, aiming it at the source of the disturbance. There she stood again, unfazed by the threat of death, (h/c) locks blowing in the wind. The light of the lowering sun cast a curious hue over the odd scene.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Why didn’t you shoot me?” she clarified.

“I am aiming my gun at you right now.”

“That’s beside the point. You didn’t do it before, and that’s interesting.”

47 took off the safety. “I should have.”

The woman smiled, her eyes shimmering with amusement. “Oh, please. There’s no suspense. No build-up leading to an all-concluding finale. No stand-off, no time-pressure.”

Diana’s voice interrupted the Assassin’s monologue. “What is taking you so long? A car is waiting for you.”

“I’ve ran into a bit of trouble. I’ll be right there.”

The woman scoffed, smirking. “A bit of trouble, you say? Is that all I am to you? I am offended… Thoroughly.”

“The rival Assassin…” Diana deduced, “Let her be. We don’t need another war right now for the world’s sake.”

He lowered his gun at Ms. Burnwood’s command.

“What is your name?” Assassin (L/n) asked him.

“Names are for friends.”

She stepped closer, once again halting at an arm's-length away from him.

“In that case, my name is (Y/n) (L/n).”

She held out her hand, waiting for 47 to shake it.

He eyed it, and then took it, unsure of what to respond.

“So, what’s your name?” she repeated.

“I don’t see why that is any of your business.”

Diana grew impatient. “Will you hurry?” she rarely lost her composure like that – perhaps it was the sudden appearance of the Brotherhood of Assassins.

Agent 47 just kept standing like he did, releasing her hand, frozen in place.

“Whatever your name is, I have a message for you.”

(Y/n) leaned closer, decreasing the volume of her voice to a whisper. “You’re in my country now. This is my city, these are my streets, and whatever Templar activity you’re involved in, I will shut down personally. The ICA claims neutrality, but I know better. You shouldn’t mess with the Brotherhood of Assassins, agent.”

She deeply inhaled, looking him in the eye. “If I see you once more, I will kill you.”

(Y/n) stepped back slowly, and then a bit quicker. “Hope we’ll never run into each other again.”

She ran to the end of the building, flinging herself off the side, gloved fingers soon gripping the edge, disappearing out of sight.

He clenched the gloved hand she had shaken into a fist, whispering a reply. “Likewise, Miss (L/n). That fate will do all to prevent that from happening.”

He was unsure of why he said that, for it could be taken two ways – that fate would prevent them from meeting again, or that it would prevent her statement from coming true.

Whatever it was and whatever caused the foreign twist in his stomach, he knew that he had to move again soon before Diana would call again and cause a scene at his unusual tardiness.

Spinning on his heel, he walked to the edge, onward.

[47-shades-of-hitman]

In Your Likeness | Chapter 2 - You seem familiar

Four weeks later

 The white noise of the lights around buzzed in your ears.

Sebastian walked up to you, cup of tea in hand.

“Here.” he said, placing it onto the table, the teaspoon resting in it rattling at the movement.

You sighed, leaning back, putting down the small pieces of equipment you were holding. Instead, you wrapped your arms around the hot mug, relishing in the sweet smell that came from the herbal beverage. You never took your tea with sugar, but opted to not tell him.

“Thank you.” you mused, smiling at him whilst bringing the cup up to blow into it, cooling it down just slightly. “Where would I be without you?”

Sebastian scratched his beard and smiled. “Well, for beginners, you wouldn’t be in sunny Jerusalem if it weren’t for my lead on a Piece of Eden.”

“That’s my lead, too!” sounded from the other side of the room, followed by a crumpled piece of paper being thrown at Seb’s head.

“Oi! Yeah, I get it, Miranda.”

“Sunny Jerusalem, you say?” you countered playfully, bending over your work again. “Then tell me, why are we hidden several floors underground instead of floating on the Dead Sea? I could’ve stayed in Tel Aviv to do more research there.”

Sebastian perched himself on top of the table you were working on, taking a swig of his coffee.

“Oh, come on (Y/n). You love Jerusalem. No-one who knows the city as well as you do. You’re only glad to be back.”

A large grin spread over your face, knowing he was right.

“(Y/n), take a look at this.” Miranda appeared at your side, handing you a yellowed folder.

“What’s this?”

“Information about your new target. Azra El-Sharani. A dangerous woman, mind you. She might seem harmless, but according to our spies, she killed her own husband. Templar ties? No doubt.”

You whistled through your teeth, flipping through the papers Miranda had so carefully compiled.

“I like a challenge from time to time.”

“This is not a game. Especially not here, on this soil. It’s drenched with blood of all kinds. Let’s not add too much to that, please.”

You tipped your chair back so you were leaning on its hind legs, balancing it just right.

“I know, Miranda.” you said. “I know this place like the back of my hand, but I know when to  not  strike. Thing is, if I don’t remind myself to have fun every once in a while, I might slip into madness. It’s not only what  makes  me the best at what I do – it  keeps  me that way, as well.”

Miranda nodded, her blonde curls bouncing at the movement of her head.

“Naturally. On with it.”

“Of course.” you replied. “I will let you know when I leave.”

As she walked off, the heels of her pumps clicking almost obnoxiously against the floor of the bunker, you leaned forward again, returning to your work. The acetone was sharp in its scent and stung in your nose, yet had evaporated in the time you had left it to dry. With practised ease, you re-assembled your bracer, clicking the blade back into place.

“You need to eat before you go.”

“Do I?” you asked your friend. “I believe I just had tea. With sugar, even though I never really take that in my hot drinks. That should give me enough energy for the rest of the day.”

Sebastian hopped off the table and followed you suit when you stood and made your way over to the exit. Grabbing your coat, you threw it over your shoulders. Despite it being your summer garment, it was immediately sticky against your bare skin.

“(Y/n), I am being serious. We can’t have you faint on us.”

“Being peckish keeps me sharp, Seb.” you explained, putting on the bracer. From the chest underneath the mirror hanging on the wall you took another gauntlet, this one equipped with built-in tranquilizer darts, which you could use should the need arise. You wished you had it on you on your previous contract the other day  – that rival hitman, of whom you didn’t know the name. 

He had crossed your mind more than once this month.

You shuddered, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the aversion you felt towards the ICA or the vivid memory of his  impossibly blue eyes.

“Are you sure you’ve read the file well enough? We could go through it together while enjoying some sandwiches? I could get you some falafel, too? Or something sweet… Babka?” Sebastian tried.

You sighed, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Time is of the essence and there is no way that I can wait any longer. Jerusalem is waiting to be rid of her Templars. My absence has made the lower ranks lazy.”

Sebastian let his shoulders hang, knowing that there was no use in pressuring you any further.

“Alright.” he said, “Enjoy your surroundings. Many people would be jealous of you, regarding your whereabouts, I mean.”

You laughed a little at the IT-manager. “Oh, Sebastian. No one should be jealous of me in any regard. Anyway, isn’t your break over already?”

Sebastian checked his watch, hiding the expression of shock on his face. “Shit, I’m five minutes late. Never mind, I’m the manager after all. Good luck on your endeavours, now.”

You nodded and folded your hands on your back, watching him trot away, a certain spring in his step he always had whenever he was late.

Before you left the premises of your quarters, you dropped by Miranda, just as she had asked of you. However, when you turned the corner, you ran straight into her, almost colliding against her shocked face.

“Oh, (Y/n)! You startled me!” she breathed. “I was just about to get you, really. I just got a call from the Council’s office. They want you upstairs.”

“Why? What is going on, have they told you? I was about to leave for that file, actually, I—”

“I’m not sure, but the Eldest of Council told me that you needed to meet with him right away.”

“Mr Howard?” you countered, feeling your stomach tighten. He was the highest ranking member of the Council, making you immediately nervous.

“Yes.” Miranda sighed, seemingly just as scared. If Mr Howard called for you, it couldn’t be good.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

You rushed away, pushing through the doors after straightening the lapels of your coat in the mirror. Walking up a few flights of stairs to where the Israeli Council had their headquarters underneath Jerusalem, your mind started to run.

Was it something you had said, or did you take breaks that were too long? No, if that had been the case, you wouldn’t be called into office. After all, you were the best Assassin they had and the most hard-working one at that. If you took a break that was ten minutes longer than planned, it—

You halted mid-step, standing still for a moment as realisation hit you. The agent from the ICA you had run into a few weeks back… Mentally cursing, you rubbed your forehead in frustration, resuming your walk to the main office, though with a heart that was even heavier. They must’ve found out that there were rivals on their turf. Took them a long while, too. Perhaps you should’ve reported it, but you hadn’t regarded it as a threat.

Oh, you were going to get the lecture of the century. On why you should’ve killed that hitman instead of letting him walk out, or at least how you should’ve neutralised him. About how he had probably now killed someone prominent within the Creed and that it could’ve been prevented if you had ended him. Perhaps you’d be banished for negligence or charged with the guilt of a fallen brother- or sister-Assassin.

Your knuckles rapped on the metal door in front of you and you took a deep breath. A Master Assassin felt no fear when it came to scaling buildings, killing people in high places, taking  Leaps of Faith. .. And yet, you were about to shit yourself because you had to speak with your superiors.

“Enter.” sounded the way-too-familiar voice of Thomas Howard, Eldest of Council and thus, the highest power when it came to the Brotherhood of Assassins. And so you went, closing the door behind you after slipping through the tiny gap you had created by pushing it open.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you were surprised at how confident your voice sounded.

“Yes, Miss (L/n). You may approach.”

The walls were covered in photographs of places, people and objects, red thread lined through here and there, revealing the on-going development of plans. You halted at the front of Mr Howard’s oaken desk, folding your hands on your back.

The middle-aged man looked at you thoughtfully.

“Miss (L/n)… You’ve been our best Master Assassin ever since your brother died. Is that correct?”

“Affirmative, sir.” you replied, swallowing away the lump in your throat at the mention of your deceased brother. “For five years now, sir.”

“Time and time again, you’ve proven loyalty to the Creed. I would trust you with the Brotherhood’s most secret investigations concerning Pieces of Eden and the extermination of Templar forces.”

You bowed your head humbly. “Thank you, sir. I’m honoured to hear that, sir.”

“Now.” he said, standing up, his robes swaying at the movement. “I need you to follow me.”

Why the secrecy, you wanted to ask, but opted to bite your tongue instead. It would be too rude a question, especially to the Eldest.

And so you went after him in silence, the only sound the beat of your footsteps.

“I will explain in further detail later, but we’ve picked up on a lead that runs deeper in importance than just exterminating the Templar Order. No, what we found will shake the world. You’re my most capable Assassin, so I need you on board.”

You nodded. “Sir, I’ve sworn fifteen years ago that I would do my all for the Brotherhood, that I would give my life and my dignity if it meant to serve it,” you paused before adding “...Sir.”

Mr Howard hummed in response. “I don’t think you’re going to like this, though.”

“Sir?” you asked, but he didn’t reply anymore.

“How about my other mission, sir?”

“I’ve placed Bethany on it. She’ll handle it just fine.”

“But Bethany is just a novice, sir. She won’t be able to—”

“I need you here.” Mr Howard said, displeased with your prying, and the tone of his scolding voice made you immediately cast your eyes downward.

“I apologise for my nosiness, sir.”

“Alright.” he said, and swiped a key-card to open a large, thick door.

The room was near empty, an ominous hue omitted by fluorescent light, a large table littered with files and documents in the middle. A few members from the High Council stood around, but an unfamiliar woman had her eyes on you. You locked her gaze to yours and raised an eyebrow.

Who was she?

“Here at last, Thomas.” an older lady you knew well stated, clearly unhappy with his late arrival. Siobhan Vermont glared at the two of you with narrowed eyes.

“I apologise, Mrs Vermont. The most important thing is that we’re here now, and I guess there are a lot of questions.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but someone cut you off before you could even start.

“You withheld information from us, (Y/n). You forgot to mention a rival assassin roaming the streets of Jerusalem. Someone of your ability should notice a thing like that right away.”

Casting your gaze downward, quite ashamed. “I apologise, sir. I should’ve reported it, but I threatened—”

“We already knew of their presence.” Mr Howard said. “There is no harm done, yet keep it in mind next time something like that happens.”

Your head whipped up to him and you frowned in confusion.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

Mr Howard walked to the strange woman and whispered something to her. She nodded and went to the adjacent room silently.

“This is a mission we hoped we never had to plan, but the situation forced us into cooperation with people who have ties to the ICA. Something big is going to happen, something that will make the entire world shudder, something that will make the eradication of our own, current enemies seem insignificant.”

Mr. Howard ushered you to the middle of the room, to the table, and on the other side of it, someone was being led forward as well.

When you halted and looked up, resting your hands on the files underneath you. In front of you, mimicking your position, he stood. 

Icy blue eyes met yours, something in his gaze stirring.

“We meet again.” he dryly stated.

You sighed, feeling puzzled, then, your gaze hardening.

“So it would seem.”

[47-shades-of-hitman]

In Your Likeness | Chapter 5 - A sliver of humanity

“Hey, you down for a run?”

Agent 47 looked up from the folder Diana had given him and saw you standing on the threshold, hands on your hips. Your hair had been tightly tucked behind your ears and instead of your usual Assassin’s attire, you now wore a somewhat more casual fit.

“Why not.” he said, standing up and putting away the documents.

You hummed and plopped down on one of the available chairs.

“Well then, I’ll wait here for a bit until you’re ready to go.”

He frowned. “Wait for what?”

“For you to put on your training gear, or something more breathable.” you said.

After a moment of silence you turned to him.

“You aren’t going to tell me that your plan was to… To run in that suit?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, a lot actually.” you explained, “People will stare. Besides, it’s very hot outside.”

“I function just right in this no matter the heat.”

You arose from your seat and crossed your arms, opposing him. “It looks ridiculous. A man sprinting in a suit like that through ancient Jerusalem. Tell you what, we’ll take an alternative route instead.”

Agent 47 wasn’t sure what you meant – “Alternative route?”

Instead of answering, you turned on your heel and left the room, the hitman soon following. He easily caught up to you and in silence, you left the Brotherhood’s quarters.

Despite the scorching heat, you broke out into a slight jog to warm up.

“Do you do parkour?” you quizzed upon approaching a wall.

“Excuse me?”

You flung yourself onto it, grabbing ridges and bricks that were sticking out, climbing up with practised ease. In about six seconds, you stood on top of a two-story building, peering over the edge to see what was taking him so long.

“I’m not sure if I…”

You pointed at the drainpipe on the side of the wall, shrugging. “Just use that. You’ll learn.”

47 climbed up and dusted down his slacks right after. “Heavily reliant on scaling buildings, aren’t you?”

You chuckled dryly. 

“The Assassins have been doing that since the beginning of the Brotherhood. If anything, it’s one of our most important skills. It’s a fantastic way to go from A to B unseen, and way quicker at that. I don’t carry them on me at this moment, but on one of my bracers I do have a grappling hook which I can use to my advantage.”

Walking over the flat rooftops, you hopped from one house to the other, staying out of sight from balconies and cameras.

“The beginning of the Brotherhood,” Agent 47 repeated. “How far back does it date? Golden Age? Middle Ages?”

A laugh fell from your lips and you jumped down a ledge before propelling yourself up a higher wall, gripping the edge. After hoisting yourself up, you turned back to help 47 out, but he managed just fine on his own.

“No, 47. The Brotherhood of Assassin originates in ancient Egypt.”

“Egypt?”

“In the time of Cleopatra. The Hidden Ones were the first ones, but no one knows who they really were. Eventually, it grew out into a Brotherhood for people carrying out assassinations and protecting our employers. Long story short: through the ages, we spread all over the world. Greece, Italy, America, France, England… You name it.”

47 let out a sound of surprise, since he had never known that it dated so far back.

“Our cause was to fight for peace above all things. Protect the people who needed us to do so. Working in the dark to serve the light. Our motto –  nothing is true, everything is permitted .”

You halted and looked out over the Wailing Wall, folding your hands on your back. Taking in the sight of Jews gathering to pray brought a sense of serenity.

“We fight for peace in freedom. And in that, we differ from our enemies, the Templars, or their more public name nowadays, Abstergo Industries . Once founded in the early thousands, set on claiming back the Holy Land under a veil of Catholicism, but under the surface, a whole lot less to do with whatever peace the church preaches. The Order of the Knights Templar once believed that peace could only be gained through oppression of lesser people and dictatorship.”

You shuddered even though the weather was far from cold – thoroughly appalled by the idea of them.

“And eventually, it became an institute of rich men seeking to become more wealthy and powerful. And then came the Pieces of Eden. Of course they already existed, but the more modern war about them, I mean.”

For a moment, you looked over at 47 to see if he was still listening. His eyes were as blue as the sky and made your heart skip a beat. Every time you saw that colour you remembered that they were the bluest shade you had ever seen.

Deciding to proceed walking, you stepped away, 47 in tow.

“I promise I won’t bore you for any longer.” you said, “If I’m talking too much, just say the word.”

“Well,” 47 began, “I was the one who asked you to teach me about the Brotherhood of Assassins, did I not?”

Your lips quirked upward and you exhaled. “I suppose. Tell me about you first, it would only be fair.”

“If you insist.” he said, “At the moment, I work for the ICA. It’s an organization handling contracts given by clients. I’m their hitman for particularly difficult jobs.”

“Like seeking out a secret organization created by both of our enemies.”

“Correct. As you know, I’m genetically made to be the best assassin one can create, with a very low failure rate.”

You hopped down a few roofs and reached a lower wall, where you jumped off, landing on the cobble street. Your conversation hadn’t made you able to do some parkouring through the town, anyway.

“Since you told your story quite quickly, I shall make mine short, too. I killed Ort-Meyer, who created me through his experiments, wanted to leave the world of killing by living with a priest, but eventually, he got kidnapped and I was pulled back into the trade. After all, I barely know how to do anything else.”

A large grin spread over your face as you two walked down the street, pushing past a few tourists in the process. “A priest? Never expected you of all people to take interest in such things.”

“I tended to the garden.” 47 explained, unsure why he was telling you this – after all, he barely knew you and whatever he was telling could be used against him, for he couldn’t be seen as weak.

But your eyes were kind and glimmered in amusement as you looked at him.

“Look at you, the one purely created to take lives, tends and cares for it.”

47’s gut twisted in confusion at the lack of humour in your voice. Where he had expected you to mock him for it, you were inexplicably accepting. “I suppose.” he mused.

“And here we are.” you added. “This way.”

You guided him outside of the ancient city and went uphill for a while, the Mount of Olives at your right hand.

“The Pieces of Eden, then.” 47 reminded you.

“Oh, yes.” you breathed, “The Pieces of Eden grant the holder great power over others. The Templars want those artefacts for themselves, so the Creed countered by making it their duty to do all to prevent that. And if we know where those artefacts are, we can keep an eye on them, take them to hide them away and most importantly, avoid conflict.”

“Avoid conflict? That clashes with our current mission.”

“Well, if it  can  be avoided. We’re not afraid to fight for it. Peace through freedom, I mean. Sometimes force is needed, and so it shall be done.” you concluded, shrugging a little.

“And you, what is your story?” 47 quizzed as the pair of you halted on top of the Mount of Olives. You were slightly out of breath because of the heat, holding your hand above your brow to shield yourself from the sunlight. The golden Dome of the Rock stood shining brightly.

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), thirty-five years old, Master Assassin of Jerusalem’s Brotherhood. Nothing that you don’t know of.”

Agent 47 huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Why the interest?” you softly quizzed. “It’s not that it matters.”

“You said you wanted to become acquainted.”

You smirked, folding your hands on your back, closing your eyes to enjoy the light of the sun on your cheeks.

“I was born into the Brotherhood, like my father and his father’s father. Needless to say, we have a long history in the Creed. Not the most prominent or anything, but quite famous. My father’s side of the family consisted of ruthless Assassins, living for their trade. My father fell in love with a young female Assassin and married her – my mother. They had my brother, Joseph, and me. All was well and my parents were loved by the Brotherhood, but one day, my father died while on duty.”

Your voice faltered upon ending your sentence, and you looked at your boots for a moment, exhaling deeply. “I never really got to know the man who he was behind the blade. He trained us, and everything I know, I know from him. In hindsight, he was more a mentor than a father. I respect him greatly, but I never felt like I was his daughter. I suppose it’s a bit strange… Well, not for you. In theory, you killed the man who put you onto this Earth.”

Agent 47 hummed, breathing in the scorching air.

“And your mother?”

“She’s in Thailand, in a retirement home set up by Assassins. There she can live her final days in peace, try to forget about the passing of her husband and her son, but with her later stage of Alzheimer’s, I’m not sure where her emotions are at the moment.”

Gesturing to the side, you told Agent 47 to head down the street.

“What happened to Joseph?”

You halted in your tracks, a few tourists that had been walking behind you nearly bumping into you, muttering something angry in what you recognized to be Spanish –  Perdona , you murmured, shaking your head before resuming your walk, albeit at a quicker pace now.

“I don’t like to talk about it.” you said, “Maybe another time. I’ve already told a lot about myself. Enough for now. We should get to actually working out, now.”

Breaking out into a jog, you started running down the street, passing by tourists every now and then.

“Do you often run?” 47’s voice was unusually steady given that you were dashing forward at quite a pace.

“As often as I can. Keeps me fit.”

He hummed in agreement. “Can’t argue with that.”

You went running through a few streets before speaking again – “Mind if I spice this up a bit?”

Before 47 could respond, however, you were already scaling a high wall on your left, pushing yourself up with practised ease. He spotted a drainpipe and sighed in acceptance, soon following you up the roof.

When he finally vaulted onto it, he saw that you were already a few buildings away, leaping from one with so much as the bat of an eye.

“Are you seeing this?” he asked, then realizing that Diana couldn’t hear him – after all, he wasn’t on a mission and thus he didn’t carry his trackers – and he knew that pursuing you wouldn’t bring him anywhere. Another thing he recognized was that he lacked an important skill he hadn’t realised he didn’t have, until now. You leapt further and further away, gracefully so, as if you were dancing.

Where he mostly blended into the crowd, hiding in plain sight, you were away in the blink of an eye, gone with the wind.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing him just stand on the roof where you had left him. He was watching you with an odd posture, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of your antics.

Smirking, you shook your head, resuming your trip back to the headquarters. Bouncing to the edge, you peered down the side of the roof to see if it was all still clear, and upon seeing that the bushes were still soft and plump enough to fall upon, you spread your arms, diving off.

Agent 47 felt his stomach churn in shock, his breath hitching as he watched you jump. As if snapped out of a trance, he darted to the end as quickly as he could, immediately figuring out the importance of scaling and parkour in the speed at which he was currently going.

He came to a halt at the edge and leaned over it to find you standing with your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I thought you…”

“Hm…” you replied. “Come on, let’s get back to the headquarters.”

47 slid down a drainpipe and walked up to you.

“That was… Impressive.” 47 stated as you resumed your trip back to the base.

“Thank you.” you mused, “That dive was a  Leap of Faith. Took a long time to master.”

“I can imagine.”

You turned your face away, smiling in amusement.

Even though it was tiny, a bond was starting to form.

These months were going to become interesting, you figured.

[47-shades-of-hitman]

In Your Likeness | Chapter 4 - So it begins

Your nimble fingers fiddled with the small folding knife, twirling it around in between your fingers, barely grazing the sharp blade. Your index finger hooked into the small metal loop on the hilt, giving it a firm twist around your digits, building speed. Then, with a firm movement of your lower arm and wrist, you hurled it into the dummy – right into the artery, buried deep within the neck.

Agent 47 sat a little away, observing you. The training outfit he wore was a bit too tight to be comfortable and the band-aid they insisted for him to put over his tattoo itched terribly. His blue eyes scanned your face – calm and collected, something he could find himself in. However, something else shimmered in your eyes, and he was unsure of what it represented.

“You’ve attracted yourself quite the audience.” he stated, referring to the group of teenagers, who had gathered to gape at you from the glass wall, a few meters away. You shrugged, waving it off.

“I’m the best Assassin the Brotherhood has, of course they’ll watch. They need to train to be like me one day.”

You looked over at them and smiled a little. When you winked, they shyly scurried away, like bashful toddlers hiding behind their mother’s leg upon eye-contact.

“You frighten them.”

“No.” you countered. “They imagine themselves in my stead.”

47 kept silent, eyeing you with slight interest. “So, you can throw these knives pretty well.”

“Thank you.” you said. “Mind showing me some of your skillset? We need to get familiar after all.”

He stood and walked over, leather of his garment snug against his skin. It unpleasantly creaked upon movement.

He drew his ICA Silverballer and aimed it at the dummy.

Before he could take the shot, however, you deeply sighed next to him.

“Long range? How dull.”

He raised an eyebrow before gunning  three – four – five  dummies clean in the head.

“You were saying?”

You walked closer to one of the dummies, inspecting the bullet hole freshly ripped into the plastic doll.

“Long range combat can be dangerous. There is no way to silence the target in case you miss, impact by missed bullets can be heard, if the bullet passes through, who knows where it will end up. And, you cannot quickly pull them behind a corner, immediately out of unwanted sight…”

“It’s critical, though. You carry a firearm on yourself, too. Unsilenced, not to mention.”

Unholstering your revolver, you handed it to him. “Small, convenient, hardly used. Almost obsolete with those bad boys on me.” You flicked your wrists in the air, revealing your hidden blades.

“One quick stab, silent and effective.” you concluded.

Agent 47 nodded at the dummies.

“Care to show me?” He walked over to them and readjusted their positions. “Let me sketch you a situation.”

You agreed, standing on the place where he wanted you to be. Within a minute, he had shifted all mannequins around.

“Imagine this. You’ve just eliminated a target and want to slip away, but the only way to do so is through the door, where a lot of guards are watching closely. They have noticed some ruckus, so they are on high alert. Think fast.”

“Six enemies… Fifteen seconds, how’s that sound?”

“Try it.” Agent 47 stated, stepping back. You deeply inhaled through your nose, crouching as if you had indeed been sneaking around to kill a target, and began your dance.

Thwack! One of your throwing knives buried itself into the head of one of the dummies whilst you grabbed the other around the throat, slashing your hidden blade across its neck before pushing it to the ground.

Then, you jumped on forward, kicking one straight in the back, making it topple over. You used its body to propel yourself into a flying kick, moving your wrist forward in the gesture. The heel of your boot hit one doll on the right spot to knock them out.

Upon landing, you burst your blade through the throat of the dummy you had used to launch yourself. Another throwing knife into the one you had theoretically only knocked out.

At last, you ran towards the final practise doll, sliding down to the floor to sweep it off its feet by using the force of your arm, blade slamming into the chest as you turned your body.

Slightly out of breath, you stood up, dusting down your attire. 47’s eyes were focused on you, slightly narrowed. “That took you twelve point twenty-eight seconds. Hardly leaving a chance to react and there’s barely room for error on your part given that you’re a skilled killer. Overall, I must say that it’s impressive.”

You smirked, putting your hands on your hips. This compliment coming from the strange hitman in front of you caused an inexplicable tightening in your gut, but you didn’t pay it any mind. It was probably the fact that he seemed to stare right into your soul, and he could either read your mind or your deepest secrets.

“So, what about you, now?” you suggested, breaking the silence. He blinked, flexing his fingers at his side.

“Of course. Give me something – Anything.”

You hummed and went to work. After a few minutes, you had made up a scenario.

“So, this dummy right here is our target.” you placed your hand on the shoulder of one of the dolls.

“In order to get to it, you need to get past guards. However,” you continued, “The door is locked. What will you do?”

Agent 47 scoffed. “Within fifteen seconds? That’s impossible.”

“I don’t care about your speed, Tobias. I want to see your approach.”

He was reminded of the other Assassins training in the same room upon your usage of his alias.

“What do I carry on me?”

“No lockpicks, crowbar, or keys. How about this…”

You tapped your chin as you looked around the room, walking over as you spotted what you had been looking for. You pulled a chest towards the set-up and found a long plank soon, too. You positioned in such a way that it was resting against the long side of the chest.

“This is an open window… And you have to scale the plank to get to it. You start right there.” you pointed at the area which you had designated to be the starting point, “I’m curious to see what you will do.”

Agent 47 took place where you had wanted him to and stretched his muscles.

“Ready?” you asked, adjusting a stopwatch to a counter of zero.

“Always.”

“Right, go.”

And off he went – knocking out a few dummies, subduing another, hiding effectively behind an imaginary wall consisting of a wooden bar to stay out of the enemy’s line of sight. He used coins to distract a few guards, if there had been any, and you moved them around to pretend that they were actually going where 47 wanted them to go.

When he eliminated the dummy by using a fibre wire, your stopwatch told a minute and a half.

“Nicely done, I must say.” you praised.

A sudden presence next to you made you momentarily tense – you had heard her approach, but her voice was so sharp that you shuddered.

“Well, well… I didn’t know we had a new recruit!”

“Hey, Sigrid.” you greeted with a wry smile.

“You seem like you know what you’re doing…” Sigrid spoke to 47, voice sickly sweet.

Agent 47 remained neutral. “Yeah. I transferred from Romania per experiment.”

“Romania… Interesting.” Sigrid twirled a lock of her black, dyed hair around her finger. “What’s your name, handsome?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you turned to the training ground in order to put everything back in place.

“Tobias Rieper.”

“How wonderful to meet you, Toby! My name is Sigrid Andres. I originate from Finland. They had me transfer here ten years ago when (Y/n) and her brother proved not strong enough. And now I need to fill in for even more empty space, since he died and all.”

Your body immediately tensed up even more than it had before – anger swelled in your chest and you had to resist the urge to punch her in her face. “Otherwise, (Y/n) wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the work Mr Howard throws her way. She’s a bit slow, if I’m honest. I believe it’s… A family trait.”

Agent 47 replied: “I’m sure that she can manage just fine on her own. She is a very capable Assassin.”

Your humourless smile was rueful and you fought the tears blurring your vision, turning to Sigrid.

“You, of all people, have the least right to speak ill to my family after everything you’ve done.”

Your voice was sharp like a blade and contained unspoken fury.

“Go take a chill pill, (Y/n). You seem a bit agitated. You should get yourself checked out because you’ve been acting strange lately.”

A scoff built in your throat and came out louder than intended. You poked a gloved finger at her forehead, pushing her back. “A  chill pill , is that what the teenagers are saying these days?”

“Not keeping up with modern-day media, old nag?”

“Want me to break your nose again?” you proposed with a scowl.

Sigrid turned away from you and towards Agent 47.

“You’re wasting your time, handsome… Come train with me instead. (Y/n) is an amateur. Perhaps I can show you a few… Massage techniques while cooling down. The showers are very spacious.”

She smiled, disgustingly sure of herself and her caked-on beauty.

“I’m not interested.” 47 deadpanned.

“I’m sure you will be eventually, handsome. All the men around here long for a taste of Sigrid and you’ll soon find out why…” She bit her bottom lip, winking at him. “Hope to see you around.”

She swayed her hips with every step of her departure, attempting to be sexy and hoping to hold his attention. You facepalmed, sighing deeply.

“Sorry about that. She’s always like that.”

Agent 47 hummed, looking at you, blinking a few times. “I figured that you didn’t really like each other.”

You laughed humourlessly, scowling. “That won’t even start to describe it. I loathe her.”

Pacing over to one of the dummies, you continued tidying up the training floor.

“We need to brainstorm a technique. We have a few more days to prepare, so I suggest we meet later, after washing up.”

The idea of taking off the tight training outfit was liberating to 47. “Sure.” he agreed, following you to the locker room. Gathering your belongings, you looked at him. “I always shower in my own quarters, and I suggest head for your own. The young recruits always shower here after training or school, and trust me, you don’t want to know how much hair is clogging those drains.”

You halted at the flight of stairs – one went up, where he had to go, and one went down, where your quarters were. “Meet me here at eleven-thirty.” you said.

“Noted.” Agent 47 said, ascending up the stairs to the room he had been assigned.

You went down to your quarters, rushing over to your bedroom to take a clean set of clothes.

Since you were one of the top-tier Assassins of the Brotherhood, you had been given private living quarters. It resembled more of a dorm, with just a few basic pieces of furniture and a small bathroom on the side. The kitchen area was adjacent to it, shared with a few other staff-members. The lower ranked members, like Sebastian, Miranda and Sigrid, had to deal with shared bedrooms.

Taking a lukewarm shower, you cooled down your body, scolding yourself for not taking enough time to do a real cooling down while in the training area. The whole run-in with Sigrid had you on edge and you wanted nothing more than to relax. Sighing, you washed up quickly until all sweat had made place for the soft rosy scent of your soap.

Your casual attire was fairly simple, and you threw your hair into a bun. Knowing that it was warm outside, you put sandals on your feet.

“Hey (Y/n).” Sebastian greeted. “Care to have lunch with us?”

Miranda and he sat at the kitchen table, a whole tray of sandwiches in front of them.

“It’s not like we can finish all of these on our own.” Miranda tried to convince you.

You smiled and shook your head. “No, thank you. I need to go upstairs, I have some unfinished business.”

After taking two sandwiches and stuffing them into a brown paper bag, Sebastian threw himself into the doorframe you were about to walk through.

“(Y/n)!” he said with feign hurt. “Won’t you tell us about that new Assassin, the transfer from Romania?”

“What about him?”

“Well,” Seb continued, “You and him seemed to have fun during training.”

You shrugged. “You probably read in the report that it’s an experiment. We need to observe each other the next few weeks. Also, why were you watching me during my training? Actually, don’t answer that. I need to file a report about this first training, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Brushing past a protesting Sebastian, you made your way to the hall where you had agreed to meet Agent 47. He wore a black suit combined with a red tie, the one you had seen him in during your first encounter.

“You may dress more casually outside of mission and training, Agent 47.”

He blinked. “I prefer this outfit.”

“Alright, your loss. It’s searingly hot during this time of day. Follow me.”

You lead him through a few halls, going through several doors and finally, ascending a ladder.

“Where are we going?” he quizzed.

“The roof.” you said, “Come on.”

Pushing open the trapdoor, you climbed through with 47 following closely.

The sun stung immediately and you worried that Agent 47 might get terribly sunburnt, opting for a place in the shade, against a broken air-conditioning unit.

47 stared at you for a second as you sat down, opening the small box you were holding.

“Sit down.” you urged, patting on the spot next to you. “Trust me, you’d rather eat lunch here than downstairs. Sebastian won’t stop talking.”

“Sebastian?”

“My friend. Come on, sit. If we’re not allowed to kill each other, let me at least try to become your acquaintance.”

A bit hesitant, Agent 47 took the place next to you and you held out a sandwich. He looked at it for a few seconds. “I don’t really eat all that much.”

“It’s just one sandwich. It’s good, take it.” you said, “You need to eat. Muscle building and all.”

He took it, and for a minute, you sat eating in silence, looking over the scenery of Jerusalem.

“Beautiful city, isn’t it?” you commented, immediately unsure if 47 would find beauty in such things.

Gesturing towards a spot in the distance, you explained. “See the golden dome? That’s the Dome of the Rock, built on the Temple Mount. Well, a mount… It’s more of a hill, really, compared to the rest of the city. Gorgeous building, especially if the sun shines on it. Behind it, not in our sights, is the Al-Aqsa Mosque.”

“I believe the Wailing Wall is near there, too.” 47 added.

“Correct.” you said, “The epicenter of Judaism. There’s very strict security around all of those places.”

You shifted, finishing your sandwich, wiping the crumbs off your hands.

“Jerusalem is the epicentre of religion and politics. I can’t think of another city deemed this holy by so many cultures. I sometimes wonder how it is, though. To be able to hold onto something divine.”

47 hummed to acknowledge that he had heard you, though not certain of what to make of the comment.

“But it makes for a great cover-up, too. I don’t believe any other city is as strictly guarded as Jerusalem. Guards on every corner and in between. Tension.”

You rubbed your chin thoughtfully.

“Inside the walls the religions tolerate each other provided that they all stay in their own quarter for as far as they can, and then, only to a certain degree. Outside of here, however, they’d kill each other in a heartbeat. You’d be good to stick to my side. I know this place like the back of my hand. It’s my turf.”

Agent 47 huffed. “Still, you hadn’t noticed me roaming about those days?”

You rolled your eyes. “I have superiors who handle things like that. I just do the field work. A bit like you, actually. You take the ICA’s orders. Or your Handler’s.”

He was silent, staring at the distance. The sound of civilization was drowned out by the distance you had from it, the noise of cars honking only faint. The mosque’s call for prayer was audible from far away.

“We’re not alike.” 47 said. “I’m genetically modified.”

“You go by the name of Agent 47. Where does that come from? What’s your real name?”

“I was born at the hands of a man named Ort-Meyer, and he gave me that name. Five men funded his project with both money and their DNA in order to create a superior army of killers. The Five Fathers, they’re called. I’m one of many clones, several types before me. Needless to say, it didn’t succeed, since I’m here, and I’m the only one left.”

Your heart climbed into your throat. “You… You really have no name, then?”

He shook his head.

“Oh.”

He shrugged. “Nothing to be done about it.”

You folded your hands on your lap.

“When I was a teenager, I was briefly informed of rival organizations. The ICA, the Magpies, the Guild of Apache… We never learned about Ort-Meyer, though. We were always told that we were the ones in the right, at all times. Our motto is after all, ‘we work in the dark to serve the light’. But I still believe in what I serve is the truth.”

Looking over your shoulder, you eyed 47. “You, however, are void of emotion, are you not? Just what I heard from the rumours about you.”

“More or less.” 47 said.

“Do you stand for whom you serve? I know you’d die for the cause, but do you know  why you would?”

Agent 47 looked at you, narrowing his eyes. “They give me purpose. I owe them that much.”

You shook your head. “No, 47, I don’t think so. What I think is… That you know nothing else. You were created to be a killing machine and that’s all you’ll ever know how to do. Also a bit like me.”

His jaw tensed and you stared at him for a moment before continuing, “I was created to be a killing machine, too. Born from the seed of one of the Masters, born out of my father’s love for my mother, but still, in the end, it was planned out for me. I knew how to kill before I knew how to speak. It is all I’ve ever known, and I will never know anything else. Outside of this, I’d be lost, like an orphan abandoned at the side of the road in the slums.”

You stood up, dusting down your pants before grabbing the paper bag you had brought with you, shaping it into a ball. You pressed it against you, feeling the sun in your face as you eyed 47. He still sat on the ground, gaze fixated upon you.

“It might seem miles off, but you and I are alike.”

When he didn’t reply, you started to walk away towards the door again.

Upon hearing footsteps behind you, you halted, smiling a little before casting a look over your shoulder.

“I need to know more about the Brotherhood of Assassins.”

You hummed.  “I can tell you more. But under one condition.”

“And that is?” he quizzed.

“I want to learn more about you.” you said.

“There’s not much to tell.” was his answer.

“Then tell me everything there is to tell.”

He gave you a small nod. With that, you headed back inside.

[47-shades-of-hitman]

Coming 2021... [Agent 47 X F!Reader teaser post]

Valentine’s day - February 2nd - 14th, 2021, all even days

Seven oneshots on celebrating Valentine’s Day with 47 {SFW & NSFW}

Kinktober - October 1st to October 31st, 2021

Thirty-one days of pure smut involving Agent 47 and a female reader. {NSFW}

In Your Likeness - N/A

A Hitman X Assassin’s Creed crossover, book.

Fate causes the world’s two deadliest assassins to form an improbable alliance kindled by the need to take down an unforeseen, common enemy.

Plagued by demons from the past and other emotions neither of you should be feeling, fulfilling your mission might prove harder than originally intended.

Despite sharing a trade, it’s not like you are made in each other’s likeness.

47 ways to make you mine - N/A

Forty-seven oneshots about being with Agent 47. {SFW unless specified}