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joucearchived · 3 years

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The Hell in Your Eyes - 1

Summary: Loki doesn't meet her until two weeks after his initial imprisonment, but he knows he hates her. He has to hate her. Because the way she talks to him and helps him and saves him meals can't mean anything. She is too soft to deal with Loki, who is hardened with pain, pain, and more pain. And Loki hates soft things.

Have you ever seen the hell in someone’s eyes and loved it anyway?

Characters: Loki Laufeyson/(f)Reader

Warnings: mild mentions of violence, mild blood

Word Count: 3122

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Loki doesn’t meet her until two weeks after moving into his new prison.

In fact, he’s slightly confused as to how this mortal has escaped his notice — not that she is even remotely worthy of his scrutiny, but he distinctly remembered conducting a mental count of the tower’s inhabitants, one she is obviously missing from. Loki was quite confident he knew of every single person’s existence within his prison walls, yet here he is, staring at a mortal whom he’s never laid eyes upon, and it unnerves him.

Loki is not scared of anything, but he prefers to be aware of his enemies.

His gaze is wary as he stares down the unfamiliar face, memorizing the way her hair frames her face, the way her eyebrows are slightly raised, and her eyes, which are meeting his own with a mix of surprise, defiance, and a tint of fear. He grins.

Ah, never quite without the fear.

But then her attention moves past him and focuses on his brother — typical — and Loki’s grin falls. Thor is standing besides Loki, just recently interrupted from his enthusiastic explanation of what a ‘smoothie’ is. He now sports a ridiculously wide grin and surges forward towards the unknown woman. His shoulder rams into Loki’s, pushing him out of the way in his haste to greet her.

Loki decides he despises her.

“Angel!” comes Thor’s booming shout, his voice altogether too happy, too enthusiastic, too loud . He sweeps the woman — Angel — into a warm embrace. Loki snorts derisively, noting the girl’s chipped nails, painted a crude shade of black, the oversized, undignified shirt she sports, and the atrocious mop of hair sitting atop her head. He is utterly unimpressed.

“Ow Thor, you’re crushing my ribs.”

Her voice is bothersome, altogether too scratchy and too rough and too hoarse. She sounds like she just woke up. Every word she says grates upon his nerves, fueling his dislike. Loki wishes she would drink some water, if only to soothe his growing irritation.

His brother releases her, and she takes a couple of steps back, smoothing down her hair. Her fingers are entangled in the ends, and she pulls on them with the impatience of a child. Still grinning at Thor, she continues.

“What are you doing up so early?” she inquires. “I know for a fact you don’t have to train in the mornings to maintain your stupid godly body.”

As Thor’s booming laughter once again echoes throughout the room, Loki cannot help but roll his eyes. Pathetic . Just another airheaded girl infatuated with his oh-so-righteous golden brother. At this point, Loki doesn’t even feel disappointment. This is to be expected, after all. Thor is the one who is a hero. Thor is part of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Thor helped save humanity — against Loki no less. Thor never tried to subjugate New York, nevermind that Loki’s mind hadn’t been his own, that his body was hastily reconstructed, that —

“Good morning to you too my lady! I was just here with Loki, teaching him how to make smoothies. With — what do you call this? Ah, a blendifier.”

Thor’s voice is softer than Loki is used to, and in this moment he decides that he hates his brother’s voice much more than he hates this useless mortal’s. He drowns out the rest of their conversation, idly wondering if he can slip away while his brother is distracted. Perhaps he could get back to his reading; Midgard’s literature is undoubtedly inferior to Asgard’s but also infinitely more engaging than concocting whatever a ‘smoothie’ is supposed to be.

His train of thought is interrupted by Thor calling out his name.

“Oh, but you haven’t met!” Thor turns towards Loki — seemingly just remembering that Loki is in the room — and motions towards the girl.

“Loki, this is [Y/n], and my lady, this is Loki, my brother, the one I’ve told you about.”

Loki wonders what Thor has told her about him. Surely, if his previous activities on Midgard haven't spoken clearly enough, whatever narration of their childhood tainted with Thor’s tongue should have sufficiently warned her of himself.

But the mortal woman surprises him. She sticks out her hand and offers him a handshake. Hesitantly, he takes her hand and shakes once, firmly, then quickly releases her. Her hands are warm and soft — much unlike his. He wonders if they too can become as calloused as his own. Perhaps if she was forced to endure what he had. He doubts she has ever even felt a flicker of pain. No, pain hardens. She cannot have felt pain because pain is relentless and beautiful and pain is cruel and glorious and because with pain either you embrace it or you break and she is too soft to have felt pain.

Loki doesn’t like soft things.

“Hey Loki. I’m [Y/n] but everyone just calls me Angel. Or Angie if you prefer. It’s nice to finally meet you. ” Her voice doesn’t waver, but Loki can detect the underlying unease present. He doesn't, however, detect a lie. How interesting.

“Pleasure,” he deadpans, lip curing into a sneer. Thor frowns, his brother quickly moving between them, shielding her from Loki. Loki scoffs. As if he could do anything to her. Loki could not so much as breathe without permission. Here, Loki was at the complete mercy of his brother, the pitiful Avengers, and now this drowsy looking, disheveled Midgardian.

Loki almost laughs. Oh how far he’s fallen.

Thankfully, his interaction with the girl — Angel — seems to be over. She turns away from him, once again addressing his brother.

“Just remember when using the blender — not blendifier — to be careful. Make sure your hand is nowhere near the blades when you turn it on, and clean it with a sponge. Or just rinse it out and put it in the dishwasher. You know how the dishwasher works, yeah?” Her eyes are filled with sincerity and adoration and Loki hates it. For a brief moment, he entertains the thought of shoving Thor’s head into the blender. He doubts it would fit.

His brother beams at her. “Do not worry my lady. I know how to use the blendifier. Even if the blades were to attack my fingers, I assure you my Asgardian strength would protect me.” Loki is fairly sure the blades could take out a sizable chunk of Thor’s hands. The temptation to test out his theory rises again, and he stomps it down.

Thor is just as boastful as ever, never ignoring a chance to show off in front of others. Thor hasn’t changed a bit. Thor is still the completed, whole reflection of himself while Loki is just broken fragments. It isn’t fair. Oh but when has life — the cursed thing — ever been fair to Loki? His irritation grows and his hands clench, his fingernails digging into his palms. Pain. Pain is comforting to Loki. Loki knows pain and he likes it.

“Sure, sure. I know your stupid godly genes will protect you or whatever, but just be careful. I’m pretty sure you still bleed, and blood smoothies really aren’t all that appetizing.” She looks at Loki then, her eyes glinting mischievously, and winks. “Unless, of course, you volunteer to clean up as well, because I sure as hell know we don’t want to scrub your bloodstains off these counters.”

Loki isn’t quite sure how to react, but his fists loosen.

She’s soft and weak and mortal but she’s also snarky and sarcastic. And Angel is the first person to use ‘we’ and include Loki in a long time. He decides he hates it. He doesn’t wish to be included with these Midgardians under any context. He doesn’t need their pity, their false sympathy. In fact, Loki prefers the venomous looks of the other Avengers much more than whatever trick this woman is spinning. His fingernails once again dig into his palms and he feels the familiar trickle of blood sprouting from his palms.

Angel looks away and turns back to Thor, who offers her a bit of the ‘smoothie’ he has been attempting to make for the past hour. She giggles, a sickly sweet sound that makes Loki’s stomach churn, and pats Thor’s arm.

The blood running from Loki’s fingers drips onto Stark’s expensive, pristine floor.

“Thor, the last time you made smoothies they worked more as laxatives. I’ll pass.” She grins again, and Loki wants nothing more than to wipe that expression off her face. He wonders how she’ll look without the seemingly ever present light on her face. Perhaps her eyes will resemble the dull marbles that stare at Loki every time he looks into a mirror. Her gaze falls upon Loki again, but she refrains from addressing him.

With that, Angel turns and saunters away, her sock covered feet softly padding across the floor. Her socks are mismatched and worn and frayed at the edges.

______________________________

The woman is right. Thor’s smoothie is nothing short of poison and Loki tells him as much.

“This is absolutely atrocious.”

Thor’s eyebrows connect in a comical frown as he takes a sip. His lips pucker and he forces himself to swallow. “I completely disagree, brother! This is just what the Midgardians drink. It’s a part of their culture, something you should get to know well.”

Thor hasn’t changed a bit. He is as stubborn as he ever was. Thor would rather drink the entirety of the brown mush he has made than admit to Loki he was wrong. He wonders how Thor would react to Angel’s criticism.

Thor pats Loki on the back as he motions towards the mess he has made out of the kitchen. Loki knows Thor cannot feel the scar tissue hidden underneath Loki’s clothes, the raised edges and criss-crossed lines. He knows this because he hides it. He doesn’t need anyone, much less Thor, to know of the scars his body carries, and he doubts his brother would care. But Loki wishes Thor wouldn’t use so much force. He disguises a wince under a scowl and steps away.

“Brother, would you mind tidying up? I have a training appointment with the Captain, and I would rather not be late.”

Loki doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. Thor is already walking away from Loki, his steps heavy and confident, so unlike Angel’s. Thor is leaving Loki to clean up his mess, another mess Loki had no part in making, and Loki is once again responsible. For he knows, he doesn’t have a choice. If any of the tower’s inhabitants were to come down and see Loki in the midst of this disaster, he knows they will blame him. Not that it particularly makes a difference, but Loki would prefer less hostility than needed.

With a wave of his hand, his seidr sweeps across the room, erasing any evidence of Thor’s ill-fated attempt at creating something. Loki does a once-over of the room, ensuring everything is returned to its original position, and as he moves to return to his quarters, a flash of red catches his eye.

Ah. His blood on the floor. The blood of a god — frost giant — cannot be as easily removed as the stains left behind in the blender.

Looking around, Loki grasps a sponge and, after again ensuring no one can see him, bends down to begin scrubbing his own blood off the floor. Loki doesn’t like blood. It’s too red and too warm and he knows its rusted smell will follow him throughout the day. He especially despises his own blood. It stains.

In the midst of his undignified scrubbing, Loki detects footsteps. He moves to stand up — quickly, but he is too late. Angel walks back into the kitchen, this time with her hair slightly more tamed and in a ponytail. She looks to have changed from her sleepwear to loungewear, sporting the ridiculously comfortable pants Loki has learned are called sweatpants and a shorter, cropped top. Her socks are still mismatched.

She looks at Loki, and with a start he realizes he is still on the ground. Loki Laufeyson is on his knees before a mortal, in the midst of wiping away his own blood from the floor.

Damn.

His throat tightens as he feels his anger rising, pulsating throughout his entire body. He scorches her with a glare, daring her to comment on his situation. He swears, Norns be damned, he will kill her. Regardless of the consequences, he will kill her if she says anything. Loki doesn’t care if he is condemned to spend another century on Midgard as penance, he will silence her. He opens his mouth, about to make his threat clear, but she speaks first.

“Well. I told Thor he would bleed. Did the big idiot leave you to clean up his mess?” She tilts her head at Loki, and he hates the way she is still looking down at him, hates the way one of her hands are on her hips, hates the way he can see a sliver of skin peeking out from between her clothes. “I specifically told him we wouldn’t clean up his blood.”

Loki bites down his retort. Angel doesn’t sound mocking, but rather sympathetic. He doesn’t need sympathy from a mortal. He finally rises and approaches her, looming over her smaller frame. “Get out,” he says, voice halfway between a whisper and a rasp. “There is no ‘we’ with you and I, and you will do well to remember that.”

Angel holds his glare for a second, but then turns away, and Loki waits for her to flee. Instead, she grabs the soap sitting next to the sink and holds it out to Loki. “Alright then, Your Highness. Have fun.”

Loki’s hand reaches towards the soap and his fingers brush hers. Her fingers are soft, just like her hands, and Loki wonders if her soul is as fragile as her physical body. Loki hates soft things.

With that, Angel leaves the kitchen a second time, and Loki is left to wipe his own blood off the floor, alone.

______________________________

He can’t get her out of his head.

The woman who was so damnably soft occupies Loki’s thoughts and he hates it. He hates how he can perfectly recall the color of her eyes, her scent, the way her skin felt against his own. He hates how she saw him kneeling on the floor.

Loki is sitting on his bed, just after rejecting Thor’s persistent invitations to go down to dinner. Thor insists it’s ‘bonding time,’ that ‘all are welcome,’ and ‘everyone would love to see him there!’ Loki isn’t an idiot. He knows what the others say about him. They don’t realize that Loki can hear their hostile whispers from across the room — and even if they did, Loki doubts they would stop.

His mind wanders back to the girl. Would she join in on their gossip? Do they trust her? Who is she?

Thor had seemed familiar and friendly with Angel, but Loki knew nothing of her. He could detect no magical presence surrounding her, and she did not look as toned or threatening as the Widow. From all he could gather, she had no place here. Yet, she was obviously a welcome occupant of the tower. Loki was intrigued, and he felt a begrudging curiosity surrounding her grow.

What was her history? Why wasn’t she here when he arrived?

Loki is distracted from his thoughts by his stomach, which alerts him of its discomfort. Loki has not eaten anything since the half sip of Thor’s smoothie, and hunger has begun to fester within himself. But Loki cannot get food yet. No, he must wait until dinner is over until he can go downstairs and snoop through the refrigerator for anything suitable. He has learned that this made everyone more comfortable. The Avengers could pretend he did not live with them, and Loki could avoid the hateful and tense environment that accompanied him wherever he went. Really, the hunger he feels is insignificant. He has dealt with much more, and he knows from experience he can go many moons without sustenance.

It’s past midnight when Loki finally ventures downstairs. He enters the kitchen without a sound and doesn’t bother turning on the lights. Loki had no need for light — he much preferred the darkness anyway. He walks towards the refrigerator, hoping that perhaps he could find some of the takeout left over from last week’s movie night. Ah, but Stark had thrown out the takeout yesterday. Loki just hoped that he could find something fresh then — but not too fresh, in case the others still desired it.

But as Loki opens the refrigerator door, he is surprised. On the top shelf, placed on the left edge, is a plate covered carefully with plastic wrap, a bright green sticky note plastered on top. He isn’t unfamiliar with the practice: reserving leftover dishes as one’s own. He found it childish, really, but he never took anything that was claimed — no unnecessary hostility was needed, and he was familiar with the screaming matches that often took place when claimed items disappeared. What he is unfamiliar with is the name on the sticky note.

Loki , it says, with a crudely drawn illustration of what is unmistakably his horns, followed by a smiley face.

Loki looks around, waiting for whoever had placed this cruel joke to pop out of the darkness and laugh at him, but there is no movement. Eyes narrowed, he scrutinizes the note. It’s not a script he recognizes, and he deduces it must belong to the woman — to Angel.

Carefully, he takes the plate and uncovers it, the smell of the food wafting through the air. Loki recognizes the scent as the dish the Captain made earlier that day. His mouth waters, unwillingly, and Loki cannot recall the last time he consumed food so freshly prepared. His fingers toy with the edges of the plate, debating whether or not to permit himself this pleasure.

He decides that yes, since the woman had clearly set aside food for him, it would be an insult to ignore it. Not that Loki particularly minded insulting his roommates, but again — the less hostility, the better. And if it ends up as part of an elaborate trap, well then Loki can say that he expected it.

He takes the food back to his quarters, and Loki truly enjoys a meal for the first time since he was still a Prince of Asgard.

He hates that he enjoys it.

He hates soft things.

And most of all, he hates Angel.

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Just because you are soft doesn't mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the color gold.

- Victoria Erickson

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Next Chapter

#loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki series #the hell in your eyes #thiye #loki x you #friends to enemies to lovers #reader insert #loki fic

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bittykimmy13 · 3 years

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Let It Snow (GT Fluff)

Ramona is plagued with troubled thoughts on a snowy winter's day. Will may not be the best with words of comfort, but he is determined to cheer her up.

A gift for my wonderful friend, @marydublin5 / @little-miss-maggie ! <3 (who also made the lovely header image!)

Will made it perfectly clear to Ramona that she was going to love what he was working on in the kitchen. The fact that she was so impatient made it more fun for him, if he was being honest.

He left her in the living room with the TV on to keep her company while he worked—making sure she had her warmest blankets too, considering snow had started falling that morning.

When he paused to check on her, he expected to find her hugging the baseboards on the way to the kitchen to spoil the surprise. But she was exactly where he left her. She wasn’t even looking at the TV, and she didn’t seem to notice he was there, either. Her eyes were fixed at the front window, where snow was falling even more steadily and adding to the white landscape.

By the third time he spotted her like that, he was concerned.

“Ramona?”

She turned to him with a flinch, sitting up straighter on the sofa’s armrest. Blinking, she seemed to come out of a trance. “Oh, hey. What’s up? Is it ready yet?”

“Not even close,” he said.

Normally, she would have groaned and demanded to know exactly how much time until she could eat—and whether he had any snacks for her while she waited. Instead, she offered a distracted smile and a weak attempt to complain.

“Then what are you bothering me for?” She pointed at the kitchen half-heartedly. “Get back to it, chef.”

Will lingered at the doorway, then took careful strides into the living room until he could kneel by the sofa. He folded his arms on the cushion and cocked his head at her. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

She looked down at her fidgeting hands. “Nothing.”

Sinking into thought, he glanced at the window, where she had been so fixated each time he came to check on her. “Did it snow where you’re from? Do you want to go outside once it settles?”

“No!”

Although he didn’t react outwardly with anything other than a deepened frown, his insides lurched. He tried to catch her eye, leaning closer to the armrest, though she shied away.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

Ramona pursed her lips, looking from him to the window. “I would’ve died,” she said in a small voice.

Her admission didn’t help his puzzlement, but he remained patient. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… out there. In this weather. I would have died, no matter what. If that thunderstorm hadn’t happened and you hadn’t brought me in, I would have been out there during this.” Her minuscule fingers dug into the fabric of her pants. “I’m so stupid. I thought I was getting the hang of things out there, such a survivalist, and I never stopped to think about snow. If I were still out there, I’d be dead by morning.”

Will let the words sink in. Truth be told, he hadn’t given any thought to what life would be like for either of them if he hadn’t brought her in. “You’re right,” he murmured. “You wouldn’t have made it.”

She snorted a laugh, looking ready to cry. “Geez, Will, you should’ve been a therapist,” she said derisively. “You always know just what to say.”

“What? It’s true.”

But she seemed to have had enough of the truth. She rubbed her eyes and cast another haunted glance out the window. A distant sort of fear etched itself onto her face, as though part of her was actually still out there, tortured by the cold. She even shivered.

Will offered his hand—she looked smaller than ever next to it. “Why don’t you come and help me in the kitchen?”

“Because you’re super mean and won’t let me see what you’re doing.”

He curled his finger invitingly. “I’ll make an exception today.”

Her shoulders fell with a sigh, and she shook her head. “I think I’ll just take a nap.” Her eyes drifted back over to the frosted window.

His hand inched closer so he could gingerly guide her chin back his way with a fingertip. “I don’t think it’ll be a very good nap if you keep looking out there.” His other hand swept in to scoop her out of her blankets without warning.

“Hey!” She gave a kick at his fingers and scowled up at him as he stood. “Let me mope in peace!”

“Fine. But could you at least do it where you’re not torturing yourself with the window?” He ferried her to the edge of his pocket and held it open. He knew better than to tilt her in, at least offering the option to climb down or decline.

She huffed. For a moment, he thought she would turn him down, but then he felt a tiny tug as she grabbed the lip of his pocket and hoisted herself over. “You’re lucky you’re warm,” she grumbled.

A tiny weight dropped to the bottom of his pocket. After she settled, he peered down while still holding the pocket open. In the shadows, he could see her curled up tight, partially covering her face with her hand—perhaps to catch whatever tears had made it out.

He hesitated, debating on whether to speak any further on the subject. After a moment, he released the edge of the pocket and headed back to the kitchen with his added passenger. He fully expected her to cheer up and peek out at some point while he worked, but she didn’t. Each time he checked on her, she was curled up in the same position at the bottom of his pocket, fast asleep.

Ramona groaned low in her throat when she felt something prod her from outside the pocket. Burying her face in her hands, she hid her eyes from the light that poured in overhead. “M’still sleeping,” she protested.

“I think you’ll want to wake up for this,” Will’s voice rumbled.

That was when she noticed a delightful scent in the air—cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and sugar. She could take a guess at what he had done, and if she was right, then it was very true that she would want to be awake for it.

“Fine.” She yawned and stretched her arms overhead, allowing Will to reach in and scoop her out. He had gotten quite good at it in their two months together; she was still working on maintaining an unpanicked heart-rate every time his hands surrounded her.

Sure enough, when he brought her out in the open, there was a fully-assembled gingerbread house waiting on the counter. He had cut holes for the door and windows. The house itself was undecorated, but chocolates, peppermints, frosting, and other sweets were scattered over the counter, ready to adorn the walls and roof.

“You know, you do a terrible job of being as scary as you look,” she told him as he lowered her to the counter. “This is adorable.”

“I never wanted to be scary.”

He reached past her to pluck something up between his finger and thumb. Steam curled from the top of the doll mug as he handed it to her—rich brown hot cocoa. She accepted the mug, unable to hide an endeared smile.

“I know,” she said. “Just teasing.”

She sipped from the mug as she strolled up to the gingerbread house, impressed yet unsurprised to see that it was entirely homemade and scaled right to her size. As far as the careful assembly, she wasn’t shocked in the slightest, either. It didn’t look very different than the birdhouses he built regularly. She peeked through the door’s opening.

“Is it safe to go inside?” she asked.

He shrugged. “As safe as frosting cement can be.”

“If it collapses on me, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

Ramona stepped inside, overwhelmed by the scent of gingerbread. It reminded her of bakeries and sweet shops and cold nights indoors with her friends. Her heart ached and warmed at the same time as she stood in the center of the floor, clutching her drink and looking around.

One of the windows darkened as a single blue eye peeked in at her. “Do you like it?” he asked.

“It looks a little sad,” she said airily. “Let’s make it look as good as it smells.”

He helped her a lot, of course, spreading frosting on the outer walls where she directed him to. She stuck candies and chocolates in careful patterns while Will focused his attention on the roof of the little structure. He got the same intense look in his eyes as when he was crafting something for a client.

“More here,” she said, pointing to a spot by the door. As Will carefully frosted, she ducked under his hand and continued to stick green candies along the base like grass.

When she was satisfied with the outside, she went back into the gingerbread house and gave the interior some much-needed love as well. She moved in and out, calling for Will to leave chocolates and tiny candy canes at the door for her to haul inside. Prematurely, his eye filled the window again to see what she was doing.

She rushed to the window, holding her arms out to block his view. “I’ll tell you when I’m done! Out!”

It was dark outside by the time she had finished framing the windows with colorful candy beads. She paced around to admire her work, then strolled to the door. She could see Will’s shadow moving there, working on something for the front part of the roof.

“Hey, I’m—” Her words cut off in a squeal as a glob of white icing fell on her arm. She looked up to find that Will was making icicles on the edge of the roof. Hurriedly skittering out of the way, she gave him an exasperated look and wiped at the frosting. “If you laugh…”

“I’m not, I’m not.” But a smirk wavered on his lips when he looked right at her, and he needed to avert his eyes.

Gathering the thick glob in one hand, she threw it up at him. It arced in the air and didn’t come close to reaching his face, plopping on the counter a pitiful distance away. She crossed her arms and gave him an expected glare. Taking notice, he diligently swiped the icing on his fingertip and smeared it on his cheek.

“Happy?” he said, stepping away to tear up a piece of napkin for her.

“Getting there.”

As she cleaned away the icing, her gaze was drawn to the kitchen window. Though it was dark, the outdoor lights illuminated the snow that was falling even heavier than before. Willow followed her gaze, and then she felt his eyes rest back on her. He folded his arms on the edge of the counter, pulling her attention to him.

“You wouldn’t have died,” he said gently.

She gave a rueful chuckle. “You don’t have to lie. That’s even worse.”

“I’m not lying. You would have lived, I promise.”

“That’s a steep promise. How can you be so sure?”

“Because… I was beginning to suspect there was a trinket out there. Once the snow started falling, I would have gone out to find you. No matter what, you would have ended up safe.”

“What if I had refused?” she asked in a softer voice. “You know how I was at first… I didn’t know what you were like.”

He untucked one arm to reach over and smooth her hair down with a light fingertip. “I would have won you over with the gingerbread house, of course. You wouldn’t have stood a chance the moment you saw it.”

A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it, and against all odds, the shadows that had haunted the corners of her mind that day didn’t feel quite so dark. “Right, nothing to do with you. The only reason I stick around is the food, just so you know.”

“Trust me, I know.”

His hand pulled away from her so that he could break off a piece of gingerbread and pop it into his mouth.

“Hey!” She strode over to put herself between him and house. “I plan to live in this thing until it rots! Stop eating the roof!”

Snickering, he easily reached past her little slapping hands and broke off another piece. Instead of eating it, he offered it to her. “Have a bite, and I don’t think you’ll blame me.”

Begrudgingly, she snatched the piece and took a bite. The flavors that filled her mouth were unlike anything she ever expected to experience as a trinket. Humming happily, she strolled closer to Will to sit with her back against his forearm.

“Fine,” she said. “Keep it coming. Wouldn’t say no to another cup of hot cocoa, either.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

#mywriting #gt #gt writing #print universe #trinket universe #giant tiny #giant #tiny #trinket #will #ramona #snow #let it snow #size difference #gingerbread house

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ffej16 · 3 years

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THEinc-HIM Daily Bible Meditation - February 19 - Full Text - Shabbat Shalom

FEBRUARY 19

PSALMS: 19, 49, 79, 109, 139

PROVERBS: 19

OLD TESTAMENT: 1 SAMUEL 10:1 - 11:15

NEW TESTAMENT: JOHN 6:43 - 71

PSALMS: 19

1 The heavens declare the glory of God.

The expanse shows his handiwork.

2 Day after day they pour forth speech,

And night after night they display knowledge.

3 There is no speech nor language,

Where their voice is not heard.

4 Their voice has gone out through all the eretz,

Their words to the end of the world.

In them he has set a tent for the sun,

5 Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,

Like a strong man rejoicing to run his course.

6 His going forth is from the end of the heavens,

His circuit to the ends of it;

There is nothing hid from the heat of it.

7 The law of the LORD is perfect, restoring the soul.

The testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple.

8 The precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart.

The mitzvah of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes.

9 The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring forever.

The ordinances of the LORD are true, and righteous altogether.

10 More to be desired are they than gold, yes, than much fine gold;

Sweeter also than honey and the extract of the honeycomb.

11 Moreover by them is your servant warned.

In keeping them there is great reward.

12 Who can discern his errors?

Forgive me from hidden errors.

13 Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins.

Let them not have dominion over me.

Then I will be upright,

I will be blameless and innocent of great transgression.

14 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart

Be acceptable in your sight, LORD, my rock, and my redeemer.

PSALMS: 49

1 Hear this, all you peoples.

Listen, all you inhabitants of the world,

2 Both low and high,

Rich and poor together.

3 My mouth will speak words of wisdom.

My heart shall utter understanding.

4 I will incline my ear to a proverb.

I will open my riddle on the harp.

5 Why should I fear in the days of evil,

When iniquity at my heels surrounds me?

6 Those who trust in their wealth,

And boast in the multitude of their riches --

7 None of them can by any means redeem his brother,

Nor give God a ransom for him.

8 For the redemption of their life is costly,

No payment is ever enough,

9 That he should live on forever,

That he should not see corruption.

10 For he sees that wise men die;

Likewise the fool and the senseless perish,

And leave their wealth to others.

11 Their inward thought is, that their houses will endure forever,

And their dwelling places to all generations.

They name their lands after themselves.

12 But man, despite his riches, doesn't endure.

He is like the animals that perish.

13 This is the destiny of those who are foolish,

And of those who approve their sayings. Selah.

14 They are appointed as a flock for She'ol.

Death shall be their shepherd.

The upright shall have dominion over them in the morning.

Their beauty shall decay in She'ol,

Far from their mansion.

15 But God will redeem my soul from the power of She'ol,

For he will receive me.

Selah.

16 Don't be afraid when a man is made rich,

When the glory of his house is increased.

17 For when he dies he shall carry nothing away.

His glory shall not descend after him.

18 Though while he lived he blessed his soul --

And men praise you when you do well for yourself --

19 He shall go to the generation of his fathers.

They shall never see the light.

20 A man who has riches without understanding,

Is like the animals that perish.

PSALMS: 79

1 God, the nations have come into your inheritance.

They have defiled your holy temple.

They have laid Yerushalayim in heaps.

2 They have given the dead bodies of your servants to be food for the birds of the sky, The flesh of your holy ones to the animals of the eretz.

3 Their blood they have shed like water around Yerushalayim.

There was no one to bury them.

4 We have become a reproach to our neighbors,

A scoffing and derision to those who are around us.

5 How long, LORD? Will you be angry forever?

Will your jealousy burn like fire?

6 Pour out your wrath on the nations that don't know you;

On the kingdoms that don't call on your names;

7 For they have devoured Ya`akov,

And destroyed his homeland.

8 Don't hold the iniquities of our forefathers against us.

Let your tender mercies speedily meet us,

For we are in desperate need.

9 Help us, God of our salvation, for the glory of your name.

Deliver us, and forgive our sins, for your name's sake.

10 Why should the nations say,

"Where is their God?"

Let it be known among the nations, before our eyes,

That vengeance for your servants' blood is being poured out.

11 Let the sighing of the prisoner come before you.

According to the greatness of your power, preserve those who are sentenced to death;

12 Pay back to our neighbors seven times into their bosom

Their reproach with which they have reproached you, Lord.

13 So we, your people and sheep of your pasture,

Will give you thanks forever.

We will praise you forever, to all generations.

PSALMS: 109

1 God of my praise, don't remain silent,

2 For they have opened the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of deceit against me. They have spoken to me with a lying tongue.

3 They have also surrounded me with words of hatred,

And fought against me without a cause.

4 In return for my love, they are my adversaries;

But I am in prayer.

5 They have rewarded me evil for good,

And hatred for my love.

6 Set a wicked man over him.

Let an adversary stand at his right hand.

7 When he is judged, let him come forth guilty.

Let his prayer be turned into sin.

8 Let his days be few. Let another take his office.

9 Let his children be fatherless,

And his wife a widow.

10 Let his children be wandering beggars.

Let them be sought from their ruins.

11 Let the creditor seize all that he has.

Let strangers plunder the fruit of his labor.

12 Let there be none to extend kindness to him,

Neither let there be any to have pity on his fatherless children.

13 Let his posterity be cut off.

In the generation following let their name be blotted out.

14 Let the iniquity of his fathers be remembered by the LORD.

Don't let the sin of his mother be blotted out.

15 Let them be before the LORD continually,

That he may cut off the memory of them from the eretz;

16 Because he didn't remember to show kindness,

But persecuted the poor and needy man,

The broken in heart, to kill them.

17 Yes, he loved cursing, and it came to him.

He didn't delight in blessing, and it was far from him.

18 He clothed himself also with cursing as with his garment.

It came into his inward parts like water,

Like oil into his bones.

19 Let it be to him as the clothing with which he covers himself,

For the belt that is always around him.

20 This is the reward of my adversaries from the LORD,

Of those who speak evil against my soul.

21 But deal with me, the LORD the Lord, for your name's sake,

Because your loving kindness is good, deliver me;

22 For I am poor and needy.

My heart is wounded within me.

23 I fade away like an evening shadow.

I am shaken off as the arbeh.

24 My knees are weak through fasting.

My body is thin and lacks fat.

25 I have also become a reproach to them.

When they see me, they shake their head.

26 Help me, LORD, my God.

Save me according to your loving kindness;

27 That they may know that this is your hand;

That you, LORD, have done it.

28 They may curse, but you bless.

When they arise, they will be put to shame,

But your servant shall rejoice.

29 Let my adversaries be clothed with dishonor.

Let them cover themselves with their own shame as with a robe.

30 I will give great thanks to the LORD with my mouth.

Yes, I will praise him among the multitude.

31 For he will stand at the right hand of the needy,

To save him from those who judge his soul.

PSALMS: 139

1 LORD, you have searched me,

And you know me.

2 You know my sitting down and my rising up.

You perceive my thoughts from afar.

3 You search out my path and my lying down,

And are acquainted with all my ways.

4 For there is not a word on my tongue,

But, behold, LORD, you know it altogether.

5 You tzitzit me in behind and before.

You laid your hand on me.

6 This knowledge is beyond me.

It is lofty. I can't attain it.

7 Where could I go from your Spirit?

Or where could I flee from your presence?

8 If I ascend up into heaven, you are there.

If I make my bed in She'ol, behold, you are there!

9 If I take the wings of the dawn,

And settle in the uttermost parts of the sea;

10 Even there your hand will lead me,

And your right hand will hold me.

11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will overwhelm me;

The light around me will be night;"

12 Even the darkness doesn't hide from you,

But the night shines as the day.

The darkness is like light to you.

13 For you formed my inmost being.

You knit me together in my mother's womb.

14 I will give thanks to you,

For I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Your works are wonderful.

My soul knows that very well.

15 My frame wasn't hidden from you,

When I was made in secret,

Woven together in the depths of the eretz.

16 Your eyes saw my body.

In your book they were all written,

The days that were ordained for me,

When as yet there were none of them.

17 How precious to me are your thoughts, God!

How vast is the sum of them!

18 If I would count them, they are more in number than the sand.

When I wake up, I am still with you.

19 If only you, God, would kill the wicked.

Get away from me, you bloodthirsty men!

20 For they speak against you wickedly.

Your enemies take your name in vain.

21 LORD, don't I hate those who hate you?

Am I not grieved with those who rise up against you?

22 I hate them with perfect hatred.

They have become my enemies.

23 Search me, God, and know my heart.

Try me, and know my thoughts.

24 See if there is any wicked way in me,

And lead me in the everlasting way.

PROVERBS: 19

1 Better is the poor who walks in his integrity

Than he who is perverse in his lips and is a fool.

2 It isn't good to have zeal without knowledge;

Nor being hasty with one's feet and missing the way.

3 The foolishness of man subverts his way;

His heart rages against the LORD.

4 Wealth adds many friends,

But the poor is separated from his friend.

5 A false witness shall not be unpunished.

He who pours out lies shall not go free.

6 Many will entreat the favor of a ruler,

And everyone is a friend to a man who gives gifts.

7 All the relatives of the poor shun him:

How much more do his friends avoid him!

He pursues them with pleas, but they are gone.

8 He who gets wisdom loves his own soul.

He who keeps understanding shall find good.

9 A false witness shall not be unpunished.

He who utters lies shall perish.

10 Delicate living is not appropriate for a fool,

Much less for a servant to have rule over princes.

11 The discretion of a man makes him slow to anger.

It is his glory to overlook an offense.

12 The king's wrath is like the roaring of a lion,

But his favor is like dew on the grass.

13 A foolish son is the calamity of his father.

A wife's quarrels are a continual dripping.

14 House and riches are an inheritance from fathers,

But a prudent wife is from the LORD.

15 Slothfulness casts into a deep sleep.

The idle soul shall suffer hunger.

16 He who keeps the mitzvah keeps his soul,

But he who is contemptuous in his ways shall die.

17 He who has pity on the poor lends to the LORD;

He will reward him.

18 Discipline your son, for there is hope;

Don't be a willing party to his death.

19 A hot-tempered man must pay the penalty,

For if you rescue him, you must do it again.

20 Listen to counsel and receive instruction, ‘

That you may be wise in your latter end.

21 There are many plans in a man's heart,

But the LORD's counsel will prevail.

22 That which makes a man to be desired is his kindness.

A poor man is better than a liar.

23 The fear of the LORD leads to life, then contentment;

He rests and will not be touched by trouble.

24 The sluggard buries his hand in the dish;

He will not so much as bring it to his mouth again.

25 Flog a scoffer, and the simple will learn prudence;

Rebuke one who has understanding, and he will gain knowledge.

26 He who robs his father and drives away his mother,

Is a son who causes shame and brings reproach.

27 Stop, my son, listening to instruction,

And you will stray from the words of knowledge.

28 A corrupt witness mocks justice,

And the mouth of the wicked gulps down iniquity.

29 Penalties are prepared for scoffers,

And beatings for the backs of fools.

OLD TESTAMENT: 1 SAMUEL 10:1 - 11:15

10:1 Then Shemu'el took the vial of oil, and poured it on his head, and kissed him, and said, Isn't it that the LORD has anointed you to be prince over his inheritance? 2 When you are departed from me today, then you shall find two men by Rachel's tomb, in the border of Binyamin at Tzeltzach; and they will tell you, The donkeys which you went to seek are found; and, behold, your father has left off caring for the donkeys, and is anxious for you, saying, What shall I do for my son? 3 Then shall you go on forward from there, and you shall come to the oak of Tavor; and there shall meet you there three men going up to God to Beit-El, one carrying three kids, and another carrying three loaves of bread, and another carrying a bottle of wine: 4 and they will Greet you, and give you two loaves of bread, which you shall receive of their hand. 5 After that you shall come to the hill of God, where is the garrison of the Pelishtim: and it shall happen, when you are come there to the city, that you shall meet a band of prophets coming down from the high place with a psaltery, and a tambourine, and a pipe, and a harp, before them; and they will be prophesying: 6 and the Spirit of the LORD will come mightily on you, and you shall prophesy with them, and shall be turned into another man. 7 Let it be, when these signs are come to you, that you do as occasion shall serve you; for God is with you. 8 You shall go down before me to Gilgal; and, behold, I will come down to you, to offer burnt offerings, and to sacrifice sacrifices of peace-offerings: seven days shall you wait, until I come to you, and show you what you shall do. 9 It was so, that when he had turned his back to go from Shemu'el, God gave him another heart: and all those signs happened that day. 10 When they came there to the hill, behold, a band of prophets met him; and the Spirit of God came mightily on him, and he prophesied among them. 11 It happened, when all who knew him before saw that, behold, he prophesied with the prophets, then the people said one to another, What is this that is come to the son of Kish? Is Sha'ul also among the prophets? 12 One of the same place answered, Who is their father? Therefore it became a proverb, Is Sha'ul also among the prophets? 13 When he had made an end of prophesying, he came to the high place. 14 Sha'ul's uncle said to him and to his servant, Where went you? He said, To seek the donkeys; and when we saw that they were not found, we came to Shemu'el. 15 Sha'ul's uncle said, Tell me, Please, what Shemu'el said to you. 16 Sha'ul said to his uncle, He told us plainly that the donkeys were found. But concerning the matter of the kingdom, whereof Shemu'el spoke, he didn't tell him. 17 Shemu'el called the people together to the LORD to Mitzpah; 18 and he said to the children of Yisra'el, Thus says the LORD, the God of Yisra'el, I brought up Yisra'el out of Mitzrayim, and I delivered you out of the hand of the Mitzrim, and out of the hand of all the kingdoms that oppressed you: 19 but you have this day rejected your God, who himself saves you out of all your calamities and your distresses; and you have said to him, [No], but set a king over us. Now therefore present yourselves before the LORD by your tribes, and by your thousands. 20 So Shemu'el brought all the tribes of Yisra'el near, and the tribe of Binyamin was taken. 21 He brought the tribe of Binyamin near by their families; and the family of the Matri was taken; and Sha'ul the son of Kish was taken: but when they sought him, he could not be found. 22 Therefore they asked of the LORD further, Is there yet a man to come here? the LORD answered, Behold, he has hid himself among the baggage. 23 They ran and fetched him there; and when he stood among the people, he was higher than any of the people from his shoulders and upward. 24 Shemu'el said to all the people, "You see him whom the LORD has chosen, that there is none like him among all the people?" All the people shouted, and said, [Long] live the king. 25 Then Shemu'el told the people the manner of the kingdom, and wrote it in a book, and laid it up before the LORD. Shemu'el sent all the people away, every man to his house. 26 Sha'ul also went to his house to Gevah; and there went with him the host, whose hearts God had touched. 27 But certain worthless fellows said, How shall this man save us? They despised him, and brought him no present. But he held his shalom.

11:1 Then Nachash the `Ammonite came up, and encamped against Yavesh-Gil`ad: and all the men of Yavesh said to Nachash, Make a covenant with us, and we will serve you. 2 Nachash the `Ammonite said to them, On this condition will I make it with you, that all your right eyes be put out; and I will lay it for a reproach on all Yisra'el. 3 The Zakenim of Yavesh said to him, Give us seven days' respite, that we may send messengers to all the borders of Yisra'el; and then, if there be none to save us, we will come out to you. 4 Then came the messengers to Gevah of Sha'ul, and spoke these words in the ears of the people: and all the people lifted up their voice, and wept. 5 Behold, Sha'ul came following the oxen out of the field; and Sha'ul said, What ails the people that they weep? They told him the words of the men of Yavesh. 6 The Spirit of God came mightily on Sha'ul when he heard those words, and his anger was kindled greatly. 7 He took a yoke of oxen, and cut them in pieces, and sent them throughout all the borders of Yisra'el by the hand of messengers, saying, Whoever doesn't come forth after Sha'ul and after Shemu'el, so shall it be done to his oxen. The dread of the LORD fell on the people, and they came out as one man. 8 He numbered them in Bezek; and the children of Yisra'el were three hundred thousand, and the men of Yehudah thirty thousand. 9 They said to the messengers who came, Thus shall you tell the men of Yavesh-Gil`ad, Tomorrow, by the time the sun is hot, you shall have deliverance. The messengers came and told the men of Yavesh; and they were glad. 10 Therefore the men of Yavesh said, Tomorrow we will come out to you, and you shall do with us all that seems good to you. 11 It was so on the next day, that Sha'ul put the people in three companies; and they came into the midst of the camp in the morning watch, and struck the `Ammonim until the heat of the day: and it happened, that those who remained were scattered, so that no two of them were left together. 12 The people said to Shemu'el, Who is he who said, Shall Sha'ul reign over us? bring the men, that we may put them to death. 13 Sha'ul said, There shall not a man be put to death this day; for today the LORD has worked deliverance in Yisra'el. 14 Then said Shemu'el to the people, Come, and let us go to Gilgal, and renew the kingdom there. 15 All the people went to Gilgal; and there they made Sha'ul king before the LORD in Gilgal; and there they offered sacrifices of peace-offerings before the LORD; and there Sha'ul and all the men of Yisra'el rejoiced greatly.

NEW TESTAMENT: JOHN 6:43 - 71

6:43 Therefore Yeshua answered them, "Don't murmur among yourselves.

44 No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise him up in the last day.

45 It is written in the prophets, 'They will all be taught by God.' Therefore everyone who hears from the Father, and has learned, comes to me.

46 Not that any man has seen the Father, except he who is from God. He has seen the Father.

47 Most assuredly, I tell you, he who believes in me has eternal life.

48 I am the bread of life.

49 Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died.

50 This is the bread which comes down out of heaven, that anyone may eat of it and not die.

51 I am the living bread which came down out of heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. Yes, the bread which I will give is my flesh, for the life of the world."

52 The Yehudim therefore contended with one another, saying, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?"

53 Yeshua therefore said to them, "Most assuredly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you don't have life in yourselves.

54 He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.

55 For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.

56 He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me, and I in him.

57 As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father; so he who feeds on me, he will also live because of me.

58 This is the bread which came down out of heaven -- not as our fathers ate the manna, and died. He who eats this bread will live forever."

59 These things he said in the synagogue, as he taught in Kafar-Nachum.

60 Therefore many of his talmidim, when they heard this, said, "This is a hard saying! Who can hear it?"

61 But Yeshua knowing in himself that his talmidim murmured at this, said to them, "Does this cause you to stumble?

62 What if you would see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before?

63 It is the spirit who gives life. The flesh profits nothing. The words that I speak to you are spirit, and are life.

64 But there are some of you who don't believe." For Yeshua knew from the beginning who they were who didn't believe, and who it was who would betray him.

65 He said, "For this cause have I said to you that no one can come to me, unless it is given to him by my Father."

66 At this, many of his talmidim went back, and walked no more with him.

67 Yeshua said therefore to the twelve, "You don't also want to go away, do you?"

68 Shim`on Kefa answered him, "Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words of eternal life.

69 We have come to believe and know that you are the Messiah, the Son of the living God."

70 He answered them, "Didn't I choose you, the twelve, and one of you is a devil?"

71 Now he spoke of Yehudah, the son of Shim`on Ish-K'riot, for it was he who would betray him, being one of the twelve.

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