Goblin Market

Globlin Men

Originally posted by winchestersroadhouse

iZombie drabbled attempt.

Blaine DeBeers x Reader
Words: 900


It had taken you a long time to get used to being friends with a walking, talking, actual brain eating zombie, but you’d just about come to terms with Liv’s reality when you first met Blaine.

As Ravi’s best friend and employee you were practically his shadow so you figured out Liv’s secret together, though at first you were nowhere near as excited as he was but eventually Liv became someone you couldn’t picture your life without.
You were at work helping Ravi open the chest cavity of a poor man who had collapsed and died while golfing when Liv skidded into the room.
“Y/N you gotta go,” she hurried, “You gotta go now and you gotta go quick!”
“What on earth is the matter?” Ravi asked, his brows shooting up.
“I can’t really leave with my hands full of ribs.” You mumbled and nodded down to the ribcage you were gently pulling free since Ravi cut through the bones.
Liv hissed to Ravi, “Blaine’s here! I don’t want Y/N to meet him if I can help it, you know what he’s like.”
Ravi seemed to agree, “There’s no way for Y/N to get out with passing him, unless..” Ravi paused and eyed up the metal body draws built into the wall.
“Y/N hates small spaces.” Liv chastised.

You sighed, “You both realise that I’m here right?”
“So am I.” A man’s voice joined you from the doorway and man who looked as void of life as Liv stepped down into the room like he owned it. Liv swallowed and Ravi stepped around the table so that he was stood in front of you and the man that you were working on.  After sparing him a glance you chose to ignore him and focused instead on working on the body below you.

You knew all about Blaine, Liv and Ravi had discussed him at great length with you and they both had agreed, wholeheartedly, they did not want you to meet him. Blaine was not only trouble, he was zombie level trouble. You ignored their conversation for a while until you heard the clicking of his shoes in front of your table.
“Can I help you?” You asked, without looking up.
“And who might you be?” He practically purred.
You continued to focus on your work, “Are you trying to flirt with me over a dead body?”
“Yeah it’s kinda my thing and Liv’s too I’m guessing. Why, aren’t you enjoying my advances?” His voice was teasing.

“Well I’m still more interested in the body, so I’ll give you a two out a ten. Must try harder.” You told him.
“Shall we carry on with our tests?” Ravi voice went an octave higher as he tried to catch Blaine’s attention. It didn’t work.  
“Why won’t you look at me?” Blaine asked you, “Not scared of the big bad zombie are you?”
How he knew that you knew his secret was beyond you.

“We must not look at goblin men.” You replied, still focusing on the body below you.
“Excuse me?” Blaine asked and you could practically hear his sassy expression.
“It’s a poem,” The all-knowing Ravi told him, “Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti.”
“Reciting poetry to me?” Blaine said, “I thought you said that my flirting wasn’t working.

“We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed,
Their hungry thirsty roots?” You recited before finally looking up at him.

Liv’s sketch of him had been spot on, of course it didn’t have his current twisted expression of anger and, what you were sure was, ever present smugness. He caught himself and the anger faded from his expression until he was just smirking at you.

“I’m not a goblin, I’m a zombie, much more attractive.” He told you, his eyes lingering over your face then quickly taking in your form.
“But a goblin is only likely to curse you, not eat you.” You countered and behind him you could see Liv and Ravi shaking their heads for you to stop. What you may count as banter could get you killed, you knew that, but for some reason it hadn’t stopped you baiting and teasing the man in front of you.

“Touché.” He smirked and put his hands on the edge of your table and leaned over the body that you were working on, “I never got your name.”
“Y/N, I’d shake your hands but, you know..” you glanced down at where you were holding the man’s lungs in your hands and Blaine’s gaze followed.
He tilted his head slightly at the sight and scrunched his face up for a moment, “Is it weird that I kinda find that hot?” He called over his shoulder to Ravi, “Hey doc, is that a zombie thing?”

“God I hope not.” Ravi grumbled and eyed Liv suspiciously.
“No! Ew!” Liv protested and lightly slapped Ravi’s arm before she marched up and stood beside Blaine, “Do you want us to do our tests on you or do you want to leave? Y/N’s too busy to deal with you.”
“Shame.” Blaine shrugged and stepped back from your table and gave you a wink, “See you around Doctor.”
You went back to you work but called up to him as he walked away, “See you around Goblin boy.”

She cried, “Laura,” up the garden,
“Did you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
Squeez’d from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, make much of me;
For your sake I have braved the glen
And had to do with goblin merchant men.”
—  Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti

anonymous asked:

I presented a paper on Goblin Market at my school's research day that argued that the goblins are the heroes of the poem because they represent repressed female desire!! Would the Goblin King be proud of me lol

The Goblin King would be so proud of you for writing that paper, for seizing your own ideas and articulating them. :)

What I Read at University — “Goblin Market”

“We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?”

—Christina Rossetti

Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti

Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
“Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries–
All ripe together
In summer weather–
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy;
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye,
Come buy, come buy.”

Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bowed her head to hear,
Lizzie veiled her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger-tips.
“Lie close,” Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?“
"Come buy,” call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
“O! cried Lizzie, Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men.”
Lizzie covered up her eyes
Covered close lest they should look;
Laura reared her glossy head,
And whispered like the restless brook:
“Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen tramp little men.
One hauls a basket,
One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish
Of many pounds’ weight.
How fair the vine must grow
Whose grapes are so luscious;
How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes.”
“No,” said Lizzie, “no, no, no;
Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us.”
She thrust a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran:
Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man.
One had a cat’s face,
One whisked a tail,
One tramped at a rat’s pace,
One crawled like a snail,
One like a wombat prowled obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry-scurry.
Lizzie heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together:
They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.

Keep reading

She cried ‘Laura,’up the garden,
‘Did you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
Squeezed from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, make much of me:
For your sake I have braved the glen
And had to do with goblin merchant men.’
—  From Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti 

a forest jeweled with velveteen fruits, the moon-poured goblin glen, she steps delicately and holds her head high as she is led to the dwelling, her juice-stained hands tied with thick twine. their rough claws press the prized chilly fruit to her lips, rotten and bewitched, cold and crispily lush. an ivory apple, a poison fig, a lulling golden pear. as she sleeps she dreams of goblin-baked pies, black fingernails shred her hair and juices smear and fatten her tongue