self proclaimed basimp

i immediately open ao3

“Fundr einn forað”: Old Norse for “Meet the monster”

Basim Ibn Ishaq x reader

Word count: 882

A/N: I’ve been meaning to write about Basim since Valhalla and I finally found the energy to do so. I really like how his sweet personality differs from Loki's. Enjoy!

You saw it when he emerged from the cave again.

Basim had left the temple physically unscathed, contrary to what Rayhan had warned him about. Truth be told, you didn’t think you’d see him again. Your kind had spoken of the tale for many generations, from Hidden one to Hidden one, all the way to you. Those that dare open the sacred temple are never themselves again - to have their lives spared by whatever being lurks inside is punishment enough, as they later have to face a lifetime of madness. Some don’t even come back out of the cave.

First it was your parents, then Roshan, then Rayhan - everyone around you had warned you not to seek what was forbidden, what was never meant for you to find in the first place.

But it was different for him, wasn’t it? The temple was a mere enigma to you - just an ancient mystery hidden inside a cave, only calling out to you if you entertained the idea of venturing inside, but it never lured you in. Even when he’d first arrived at Alamut, Basim would always stare at the entrance of the cave. You thought it was his longing to join the creed and carry out the ceremony, but now that you saw it, there was definitely something else there. Basim was being lured by something from inside the temple.

It was slippery and fast, but if you were to pay attention closely, you’d see it. All those times you would talk by the cavern, when he’d confide in you about his nightmares - you’d notice it. It didn’t take a keen eye to see the way Basim would keep glancing at the cave, or miss the tinge of red in his pupils that would flee the second he was awoken by his night terrors. It was all the work of a jinni, he would say - but you knew better.

Gods, you knew better. You knew, you suspected, you theorized that something terrible must have been going on. It was deeper than some curse a merchant could have cast on a former thief, or a nightmare caused by stress and physical strain. You’d returned to Baghdad with him, Roshan, and Fuladh, read the scriptures, even visited the House of Wisdom to better understand what could possibly be haunting him. While Basim was busy proving himself to the Brotherhood and fighting the Ancient Ones, you’d buried yourself in books to help him battle his demons, too.

He didn’t know. One day, when he’d come back to the bureau to report his mission, he found you looking through the scrolls. He was well acquainted with your passion for literature, but the moment you’d shown your research to him, he regarded you with warmth in his eyes. You were ranting about all the different ways his night terrors could be tamed, discussed the possible identity of the so-called jinni according to the description he had provided you, made a list of curses and deities that were prevalent in ancient mythologies – and Basim just leaned in close to steal a kiss from your lips, silencing you swiftly.

You knew because you saw the way he looked at you. His eyes were brown, like the dunes of the evening desert - cool and silky sand that shone bright under the sun. Brown like the soil you walked on, the expensive leather of the books at the House of Wisdom, the damp boulders that held up the cave in Alamut. The cave that held the answers to his turmoil.

He didn’t know – but he wanted to. The lack of answers tore his soul apart. Basim just wanted to understand; what beast wanted to torment him in his sleep? Why was it seeping into daylight now, too? Did it seek revenge, when all Basim wanted was peace?

His eyes would crumble every night. You’d see the dunes in his eyes shake in fear, watch them collapse with every ragged breath he took as he held onto you. And there, in the desert night that was reflected in his eyes, a red comet would glint and flee before you could fully register it.

 Basim wanted to - no, needed to know. Into the cave he’d have to go, then. Alone.

You knew he’d found whatever it was he was looking for – because he no longer held the posture of a man who was deprived of sleep, of answers. He strode with the newfound purpose of a man who looked almost smug. The novices immediately tackled him into a hug when they saw him come out, and Rayhan joined to proudly clap him on his back. And you? You were relieved, arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace as his arms enveloped you, too. But then you looked up, and his eyes shone red. The sandy dunes were bleeding, seething with anger - and then, the color was gone. 

The way he looked at you - it was wrong. Like someone had taken his eyes, painted them to their liking and dipped them in blood. And his smile - it didn’t even reach his eyes. But he was still himself, same voice, same face, same manners, same Basim. Only this wasn't Basim. You knew Basim was gone.

Basim Ibn Ishaq x GN!reader

Word count: 1003

Basim is an “actions speak louder than words” man. He’s kind of reserved by nature and has spent many years mastering the art of controlling his emotions during his time in Alamut.

That being said, his love language is definitely acts of service.

It starts off small – you both have a passion for literature, a common ground he has yet to realize. He’s talking to Fuladh about a recent poem he’s just read, reciting his favorite lines, when he hesitates at the end. While he’s trying to remember the final verse, you jump in and quote it for him, and Basim shoots you an amused look.

“Since when do you enjoy poetry? ”

He tries to surprise you sometimes – he likes to lend you his favorite books, and if you indulge the man, he’ll even rant about his favorite poets/poetesses and their works. It becomes a bonding mechanism between the two of you, and it might look corny to an outsider; but you see how excited Basim gets when you say you liked the book he gave you, and suddenly, it’s like their opinion doesn’t even matter.

When the life of a Hidden One keeps you up at night –whether that be because of a nightmare or a stress-induced fever– Basim keeps you company. He knows the feeling all too well and refuses to leave you alone, unless that’s something you want. He will sneak into your room with a bowl of fruit and a book in hand.

“May I offer you a poem in these trying times”

Boom you’re sold

It’s a secret of his, but he likes writing poetry, too. He’ll die before admitting it though – and anyone who dares read his work will have to pry it from his cold, dead hands.

That being said, he might let you read something here and there (only the poems he’s revised a hundred times), but you have to swear that you won’t tell anyone.

You don’t mind. It’s like your little secret anyway.

Despite his preference for acts of service, he’s going to try to compliment you every now and then. You can always tell he’s being genuine, and when you thank him, he grants you a warm smile and a courteous nod.

He’s a very good listener. You could be talking about anything and he’d be listening intently, nodding along and asking questions. And nothing escapes him, really – he’s got an amazing memory and will remember your birthday, your favorite food, the friendly camel you met two weeks ago, or even the day you first saw fireworks. 

He remembers that day well. The bright lights were sizzling and popping in the sky as you watched them, transfixed. You’d turned to face him with a big grin on your face, and in your excitement, asked him an obvious question: “Did you see that?”

He smiled and nodded, because of course he did.

He didn’t. He was looking at you.

But besides that, nothing escapes him!

He has a habit of shielding you from the elements. When it’s scorching hot, he hovers his hand over your face to keep the sun from your eyes. When it’s windy, he likes to use his stature to shelter you from the breeze. And on rainy days, he cocoons you in scarves and cloaks to keep you from getting wet.

Basim starts laughing more around you, and you both become incredibly closer. You have so many inside jokes that it’s hard to keep track of them, and perhaps it’s starting to get to the other Hidden Ones too. Roshan just sighs as she watches the two of you because you’re both oblivious fools.

He definitely starts coming out of his shell with time, even dropping a pick up line here and there. The first time it happened it caught you so off guard he panicked and lost all sense of his training in three seconds.

“Well, – Nehal is calling me. I’ll see you around.” and he tailed it out of there, tripping over a vase before regaining his footing and scrambling away.

He wouldn’t approach the subject again, and if you were in his proximity he would be as stiff as a board – until you made a move too. You flirted with him out of the blue and he just widened his eyes and pointed at you.

😳🫵🏽

Things change from there and he tries to flirt more (and he’s so dorky he makes everyone within audible distance groan and leave). You’re organizing the books at the bureau, the one place you probably frequent more than your own home, when he comes in.

“You come around here often?”

You give him a deadpan expression, because he can obviously do better than that, and he grimaces.

“Yeah. No more of that.”

Biggest supporter ever. If you speak another language other than Arabic, he wants to know all about it. He’s a smart man, he can learn a couple of expressions quickly, and pretty soon you’re having simple conversations in your tongue. 

That being said, if you cuss someone out in said language he’ll probably try to remove you from the situation. He’s not keen on confrontation, especially with civilians, but if they wronged you in any way, he’d be all like “Yeah, what they said!” “And you better remember it!”

An absolute sucker for forehead kisses. He’s not very fond of PDA but he always kisses your temple when he has to leave or walk past you. It’s a ghostly touch, you almost don’t notice it, but it makes your cheeks flush every time.

Likes to hold your face in his hands and just look at you. It can end with him either smiling and kissing the corner of your mouth (on a good day) or pulling your hood down to blind you and ruin the moment (when he’s feeling a little silly). You call out his name and he just barks out a laugh as he climbs onto the rooftops.

Hello Dear! Thank you for your patience! I had so much fun writing those 💜

Hytham! (aka the sweetest baby)

This man is like a puppy in a body of a human

Always so polite, nice, respectful

I mean, have you seen his face? He has puppy eyes 24/7

Anyway - you knew how hesitant he was on sharing the secrets of his Brotherhood, but, being a curious and stubborn creature, you decided to use your ultimate weapon

The Puppy Eyes ™

It’s not like anyone in Ravensthorpe could resist you anyway

But Hytham? Seeing you like this… he got so shy!

Cheeks? Red

Eyes? Staring at the ground

Heart? Pounding

Speech? Stuttering

But then he slowly raised his head, with those blue eyes of his peering right into your soul

“y/n, please: I can’t do it. I can’t let down my brothers and sisters, no matter how much I want to share everything with you”

For the first time in your life, you were the one who had to bend under the pressure of the most powerful puppy eye stare in the universe

“Fine. Fine! But then I want to try food from your homeland. You said you know how to make it,”

“Of course, y/n” he would smile and this time, it was your heart pounding like crazy

Basim

“What are you doing with your face?” he would say, frowning

He was quite busy with some stuff, so he just spared you a glance before focusing on his work again

“Basim, please? Let me try your hidden blade on?”

“No”

“Pretty please?”

“No”

“Pleeeeeaaaaasseeeeeee” you almost laid on his desk, giving him the best puppy eyes you could manage to make

Yet, he stood still, unmoved, immune to your charm. Was it the power of a true Hidden One? In that case, you hoped Eivor won’t ever learn that trick

“y/n, the hidden blade is not a toy. Not something I can just let people touch or wear, it is a-” he stopped as he raised his head again and saw you, with this sad face and almost watery eyes, sitting there so sad and disappointed

He sighed, knowing that he lost to your charm

“Five minutes,” he said, reaching for his hidden blade to take it off. You couldn’t believe he actually agreed to it, but hey! You wanted to try it ever since the day Eivor received one! Basim helped you wear it, putting the blade on top of your arm, the same way Eivor was wearing it, and then showed you how to use it. But he never let you out of the little house he shared with Hytham

When the five minutes had passed, you gave him the blade back and were ready to leave when he stopped you. “Y/n? Didn’t you forget something?”

“Forget? What?

“The price,” he said with a wide smile that made your heart sink. “You won’t leave me here without any recompensation, will you?” and suddenly he also made puppy eyes, almost perfectly imitating your own. And then you realised. This was the true power of the hidden one and you had just lost against it.

Bonus: soon you discovered that his bedroom eyes are so much more powerful than the puppy eyes

Eivor (I’m playing as a male Eivor because smexy so since you gave me a choice male Eivor it is)

Eivor never could resist you

When you were children, teens, adults, your puppy eyes always gave you what you wanted

Eivor and Sigurd used to say “eyes more powerful than axes”

Unfortunately, your parents were no longer in the picture, after the spring ride, so you lived alone with your grandmother, a wise woman who was making sure you will become a herbalist. It wasn’t a dangerous job, but it was very demanding and important, much needed in a growing settlement

The problem was your heart. You liked working with herbs and all, but you also needed adventures! You wanted to taste the life of a true Viking so, when you heard Eivor was gathering warriors for a raid, you decided to go as well

“No, you know you can’t go with us. It’s too dangerous and you are more needed here.”

“Eivor, please! When my grandma will move on, I will be stuck here forever! Maybe this will be the last year I will be able to actually leave the settlement, don’t leave me behind!” you begged, and when Eivor turned around to look at you, you gave the best puppy eyes you had in your arsenal

Eivor bit his lip, a bit uncomfortable. Yes, he couldn’t really resist and he could see your point. As a herbalist, soon you won’t be able to leave and no, you still had someone who could carry on your work for a few more weeks

“Fine. I guess if your grandma kills me, I can still go to Valhalla” he muttered under his breath

He said

You sat by the dock, listening to the gentle lap of water against the boats moored at the dock.  The cries of merriment and the lilt of a tagelharpa flowed down the hill with the fall breeze.  Enough mead and singing, you snuck out to enjoy the cool night air and the stars above.

The crunch of boots made you turn you head.  Walking towards you towered Sigurd, red hair shining in the torchlight.  Your eyes widened in surprise when you craned your neck back to take in all of him.  He was still as impressive even after his injury.

You scooted over, making room for his long legs to swing over next to your feet hanging over the dock, toes dipping towards the water.

Sigurd turned his piercing blue eyes on you.

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornsson x Reader

The itch of something on your neck and a snore woke you from pleasant dreams.  Hand reaching up to push away the offending scratch, your fingers met a familiar beard.  Eyelids fluttering you remembered last night and ran your hand up to touch his cheek.  Sigurd’s arms wrapped around you, one big hand resting on your stomach as you stirred in his arms.

yet some thoughts related:

1. the man who was in charge of the House of Wisdom under Caliph Ma'mun was Hunayn ibn Ishaq...might be a source of Basim's last name

2. Khawrizmi died in around 850CE, and it's possbile to guess Basim's age based on this

3. *loki being wicked by trying to teach basim math*

4. the word "algebra" (which from the title of Khawrizmi's work, al-jabr) literally means "rejoin" and "completion", in this case sounds like a reunion somehow...

SHE (angry) 😑😡🤬