#assassin’s creed mirage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-simp-named-slickback · 15 days

Text

The Aftermath | StarCrossed Epilogue

Maha, Nashira's best student, struggles with personal demons. Nashira offers her some wisdom from her own life experiences. Takes place ten years after the end of StarCrossed.

“Maha, I know you can solve this.” Nashira gently encouraged her student to solve the complicated math problem on the chalkboard.

At the moment, it was just the two of them in the observatory, aside from Halah who slept in the corner. That seemed to be all Halah would do these days, seeing as she was now a very old, very sleepy cat.

Nashira’s classes were over for today, and Maha was the only student who remained. She arrived late for class again, and if Nashira had to guess it was something to do with one of her younger siblings needing her for something. Of course, Nashira didn’t mind staying after a bit longer to go over the lesson she missed.

Maha focused on the problem, yet despite her efforts the answer didn’t come to her. She ran a hand through her hair, huffing in frustration, “I can’t do it!” she threw her chalk to the ground.

Nashira bent down to pick up the broken pieces of chalk, “Yes you can, you’re great with polynomials! I wouldn't have given you this problem if I didn’t think you could do it.”

“No,” Maha let out a heavy sigh, “I mean this,” She motioned around the observatory, “I can’t do this, Ustadah.” She sat down at the desk, placing her head in her hands with a frustrated huff.

Instantly, Nashira pulled a chair where Maha sat, placing a hand on her student’s back. She gently ran her hand up and down her back in an attempt to comfort the girl. If she knew anything about Maha, she was definitely fighting back tears. She often cried out of frustration.

“Ya azizati, what is really going on?” Nashira asked after some time.

She let out a sigh, gathering her thoughts before continuing, “I don’t belong in a place like this. Everyday I’m surrounded by people from families who have occupied these spaces for generations. They go home to beautiful estates and I go home to a broken down shack in Anbar.”

Maha sniffled, “It’s like there's a voice inside me saying I’m not good enough. It’s why people look down on my family and I when we walk through the streets. Even other students here turn their noses up at me, like I don’t belong near them.”

Nashira shook her head, “You do belong here, Maha, just as much as anyone else.“ She pressed, “There’s not much you can do about how people see you…and it is easier said than done to simply tell you to ignore them. But that voice inside you telling you all these terrible things is trauma, and if we don’t make peace with that it will continue to hold us back.”

Maha sniffled again, “But, what if it’s right? Everything in my life seems to go wrong, what makes this any different?”

Nashira smiled sympathetically, “It will get better in time. It always does.”

“How would you know?” Maha raised her voice, but immediately regretted it once she saw her teacher’s shocked expression. She inwardly chastised herself for losing her temper again.

“I-I’m sorry Ustadah-“

“It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize ya azizati.” Nashira smiled to ease her students' mind, “it is a fair question.”

Nashira took a deep breath, closing her eyes as the memories she buried deep within her came rushing back. Many were sweet, most of them were outright devastating.

However, instead of feeling the urge to weep, she felt a sense of peace. She felt ready to pass on her wisdom to someone who needed it.

She let out a long exhale, “When I was young, I fell in love with a thief from Anbar,” she said.

Maha perked up, listening closely to her teacher. Rarely did she ever share stories from her personal life.

“When we met, he just so happened to be hiding from the guards in the library the same time I was fetching books for my father. The moment we locked eyes for the first time, it was as if the stars had aligned.”

Nashira let out a chuckle to herself as she thought of him, “I thought he was so charming, but he was also as mischievous as can be. I liked that about him too, I suppose. We spent much of our time together in this observatory, learning as much as we could about the world and each other.”

Then, her eyes grew sad as more memories flooded her mind, “I loved him…so much.”

Maha noticed the shift in her teacher’s demeanor, “What happened to him?”

A shaky breath escaped Nashira as she prepared for what she had to say next, “He was…deeply hurt inside. He suffered from horrible nightmares. I tried to help him, I wanted so badly to help him…but I couldn’t. Then one day something about him just shifted. He wasn’t the same anymore.”

Maha noticed the slight tremor in her teacher's hands as she spoke. Even more so, the strain in her voice was very apparent.

“He left and never came back,” Nashira sighed, “The whole ordeal left me feeling so…broken. I had my own voice inside telling me I wasn’t good enough, that I should have tried harder to help him, that I should've made different choices in life. I thought I’d never recover from that pain.”

Maha furrowed her brow, “How did you?” She asked.

“You know, I don’t think I ever did.” Nashira answered, “I never got over it all at once. I just focused on taking things one step at a time until I finally felt like myself again.”

A smile slowly grew on Nashira’s face as she continued, “It helped to focus on what was important to me. I wanted to continue my father’s work. I wanted to teach girls like you math and astronomy. I wanted to live a happy life, and I chose not to let my past dictate who I was.”

Nashira stood up, walking towards the window she usually kept closed these days. She grabbed a hold of the handles of the window panes, running her thumbs over the familiar grain.

She opened it, the late afternoon sun filling up the observatory with its warmth and light. Nashira motioned for Maha to come to her side.

Below them was the courtyard. A middle-aged bearded man walked beside a young boy. He was about ten years-old with a curly mop of hair on his head and a face full of scattered moles. Out of all the people in the yard, Nashira could pick them without fail time and time again.

The little boy had a pouch full of dates which he seemed to stuff into mouth all at once while the man seemed to absentmindedly read from a stack of lecture notes as they walked.

Nashira chuckled, “Hassan! Don’t spoil your dinner, ya azizi!” she called down to him.

Hassan looked around the courtyard, trying to find the source of the voice, before looking up where the window was. With a big toothy grin he waved his arm back and forth, “Umma!” He tugged on the man’s sleeve, “Baba look, it’s Umma!”

The bearded man, Omar, looked up from his reading to see his wife’s smiling face besides her student's. He returned the gesture and cheerfully waved at her as well.

Nashira softly smiled, watching as the two of them continued on their walk, “Most important of all, I get to watch my son grow up. That is what I look forward to the most these days.”

Maha nodded, then took a pause to reflect, “Ustadah, what if I can not let go of my past?” She asked.

“You can’t let go, necessarily,” Nashira answered, “Your past is an important part of who you are. However, you can choose how you move forward with it so that it doesn’t hold you back.”

Maha tilted her head, not really understanding what she meant.

“You can't change or control what life throws your way, but you can choose to make peace with it. You can choose to learn from it. Then one day you’ll be able to look back on you past and see how far you’ve come, Maha.” She smiled, “And you have already come so far. That’s something you should be proud of.”

Maha nodded, “You’re right, I have. But, I still have so far to go…”

Nashira took one of the girl's hands in hers, “And you do not have to do it alone. I’m always here, Maha, whenever you need me.” She pulled the girl in for a warm hug, “You belong wherever you want to be, ya azizati.”

Maha smiled, “Thank you for sharing that with me, Ustadah.” said Maha. Nashira’s words did not fix the turmoil Maha felt inside, but the wisdom she received would help her deal with her feelings of inadequacy. That was enough to put her at ease for now.

They pulled apart and Nashira squeezed her hand, “Now, let’s get back to that math problem.”

__________________________________________________________________________

At some point, Hassan joined them in the observatory while Omar gave his astronomy lecture. Hassan, for the most part, played quietly in the corner with Halah while Maha and his mother continued their studies.

The boy’s eyes landed on his mother’s bag, where a bag of juicy candied dates peeked out of the pocket. With a cheeky grin, he carefully crept over to it, reaching for a date and narrowly putting it in his mouth-

“Put it back, Hassan.” Nashira said, not even looking up from the papers in front of her.

Hassan’s shoulders slumped. He reluctantly did as he was told, “But I’m starving!”

“You are not starving,” She paused when her own stomach began to growl, “But It is getting late, and Baba should be finished with his lecture soon. Let’s go home and have dinner, hm? You can have those dates for dessert.”

Hassan cheered much to his mother’s delight.

“But only if you finish your vegetables.”

He groaned.

Nashira and Maha gathered their things while Hassan went to retrieve Halah.

“Will you join us?” Nashira asked Maha.

The young woman smiled and nodded. While she collected her things, she couldn’t help but watch the little boy closely. She couldn’t get over how much Hassan favored his mother from his curly hair, moles, and chubby cheeks. Not to mention his love of dates and his sleepy cat.

“He looks so much like you,” Maha mentioned as they made their way out of the observatory, “It’s almost like his father didn’t try at all!” She joked.

Nashira smiled to herself, “Oh trust me, he definitely takes after his father more than me.” She said as she let Hassan and Maha walk out the door.

Nashira watched as her student and her son walked down the hall. She paid special attention to how her son gently placed a kiss on Halah’s nose, then moved to feed her a date he had in his pocket. The sneaky boy still managed to swipe a date from her bag afterall.

She smiled, though inside she felt a wave of guilt come over her. She always felt it whenever she thought of Hassan’s father.

Mainly, how Hassan would never know his real father.

She could see so much of Basim in Hassan, from his big brown eyes to his crooked grin and his penchant for mischief. She thanked her lucky stars that Hassan looked so much like her, no one questioned why he didn’t look like Omar.

She planned on telling Basim about her pregnancy when he returned from Alamut. She thought when he came back, she could tell him the news and they’d run away together and start a new life. They could see the world the way they talked about as kids, and they would have raised Hassan together.

Of course, their meeting did not go as planned. To avoid being thrown out, Nashira chose to act as though the baby was Omar’s. It was a better option than struggling to raise a baby on her own, even if the guilt ate her up inside.

She decided the guilt would have to be her punishment for her poor choices. After all, her decision would ensure her son grew up happy and without worry. Hassan would have more choices in life than she or Basim ever did. So, she accepted it.

As Nashira turned to close the door of the observatory, her gaze landed on the open window she forgot to close.

She sighed, letting all her feelings flow out of her. Her past with Basim happened, and while it still saddened her from time to time, she felt grateful that it did not destroy her.

She was free to look to the future of her life, and all the wonderful, beautiful moments she’d have with her son in it. That alone was enough to push forward and leave Basim in the past where he belonged.

With that, she didn’t hesitate to close the window.

“Umma come oonnnnn!” Hassan called from down the hall.

Nashira chuckled, “I’m coming, ya azizi!”

#assassin’s creed mirage #assassin’s creed #basim ibn ishaq #basim x oc #fanfiction

18 notes · View notes

jaziplier · 6 months

Text

Basim Ibn Ishaq - Oneshots

• Basim is a shithead. As the assassin tasked to protect you from harm, it seems like he continuously gets you in trouble instead.

• You could be walking down the market, the ripe, golden sheen of the sun battering down on the fresh fruit that you want to eat so badly. Basim catches your eye, and soon enough you’re holding a delicious apple in your hands.

• “What? You looked like you wanted it, who am I to deny you hm?”

• The next minute he has your hand clasped in his, running through the dense city, his laughter echoing in your ears.

• He takes his job very seriously, weaving in and out of the Round City, appearing in front of you in narrow alleys, often times without warning.

• His dusty brown hair littered with sand, drapes over his eyes as he pushes you gently against the stone alley wall. “Did you miss me?” He smiles softly.

• He is close to you, but he still manages to keep a respectable distance.

• Your heart beats like crazy for Basim. You cannot ever fake that, and he knows.

• Oh does he know.

• He adores to take advantage of your shyness, and slips in some gentle Arabic petnames in his speech.

• “Be careful, albi, it’s a dangerous road ahead.”

• “The moon is big and bright tonight hayati, tonight is the night we go.”

• “Oh I’m fine habibti, don’t worry about me.”

• He also knows arabic isn’t your first language, and he loves to watch you struggle with certain words, the way your mouth moves, the way he wishes to catch his lips against yours.

• You both enjoy sitting on the rooftops of Baghdad, spreading out on the persian rug under you, the stars swimming over your head.

• You love telling Basim about the different constellations in the sky, astronomy that you had learned at the House of Wisdom.

• And he loves to watch you. He loves as the moonlight strokes your features, dancing upon the highs and lows of your face. Your voice is like the sweetest birdsong in his ears. He adores you. You may not understand, but he would do anything to keep you safe from harm.

• In moments of danger he turns into a different person. Pushing you behind him, he is a quick and efficient fighter, rarely loosing his battles.

• Basim is clumsy however, and he is not exempt from a few bruises and cuts.

• But he doesn’t care, it just means that you will dote over him more.

• When you come home you fuss over his wounds, making him take his shirt off so you can assess the situation better.

• His lean, muscular yet battered body catches your breath, and you’re stuck staring at him for a while, which makes him smile.

• Basim loves you, and he’s unable to wait any longer. He closes the distance between the both of you, pulling you into him with a hand on the small of your back. He yanks you close, his breath dancing on your lips. It’s almost as if he’s nervous about something, perhaps he can hear your heart beating out of your chest.

• You put your hands on his chest to steady him, to help him understand that you love him just as much as he loves you. His warm skin feels soft, yet rugged under your hands, as you run your hands over his torso.

• A singular glance from you, looking up to him through your eyelashes, is more than enough to send him over the edge.

——

ok this one is fluffy and kinda simple cuz im just testing the waters with Basim to write more… ahem… 18+ stuff in the future. ANYWAY I HOPE ITS OKAY!!!

#basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #ac mirage #assassin’s creed mirage #assassin's creed #oneshot

32 notes · View notes