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“What are you making?” Niffty asked, ever the nosy little thing. She had climbed her way up Alastor’s back as he sat at his desk and was peering over his shoulder. Her big eye shone in eager curiosity and he couldn’t help but indulge her.
“It’s a present for Rosie,” he said.
It was a necklace, meant to display a small collection of teeth. His own tooth would star in the center, hanging down by an additional cord. On either side was a hellhound's canine, followed by four additional deer teeth beside those, all of them separated by small knots in the cord. He tried to keep the roots on most of them, especially his own, because he knew Rosie would appreciate such a detail.
Rosie and Alastor both enjoyed rather macabre gifts. If it wasn’t collected from a corpse, then it was probably procured from their very own flesh and bone.
Rosie’s most recent gift, a small ornate jar full of her own teeth, had inspired him. She had handed it to him with a bit of a laugh, apologizing for the fact that almost all of them were chipped and broken, but Alastor didn’t mind. Crunching on the bones of the damned had a tendency to do that.
Most of them were old, having been pulled out years and years ago. On some of them he could see the roots and dried blood coating the edges. But the most fascinating thing to note was that Rosie's teeth were serrated. It was hard to see on her person unless one was paying close attention, but with a jar full of her teeth Alastor could observe every little detail at his leisure.
This wasn't Rosie's first ripped-from-her-own-flesh gift to him; he had a small on going collection of her finger bones. Those were kept a small box with future plans to put them together in some fashion and display them appropriately. He had a vague notion she intended on eventually give him all the bones in her hand to put together.
There was a special shelf in the bookcase in his room to hold her personal gifts. Having pieces of her felt like a high honor, a potential power over her that he shouldn't have. So he treated her bones with the utmost care and respect. And in return, he hesitantly offered her personal gifts from his own flesh.
Over the years he'd given her quite a few of his antlers and even some of his own claws. Rosie was a little more tasteful in how she displayed his gifts, but thankfully kept them to her personal quarters. His antlers were often placed in vases along with flowers, and his claws were kept in a decorated jars or colorful boxes.
She had made an almost joking remark that she’d love to have a couple pieces of jewelry that showed off his gifts better. His antlers could make potentially nice headpieces or hair clips, and his claws would make beautiful rings as their blood red coloring would look quite striking against her pale skin. He held onto that comment. And while this was a necklace made of teeth, not clawed rings or ornate headpieces, he hoped she liked it regardless.
He tied the final knot against one of the deer teeth before reaching for the clasps to place at the ends of the cord. Niffty hummed from atop his shoulder, pressing her cheek against his. He felt her grin.
“It’s morbid. I think she’ll love it!”
Alastor smiled in return, “Think so?”
“Definitely!”
Alastor chuckled as he secured the clasps. He held the necklace up to scrutinize, eyes ready to catch and tear apart any imperfection. It seemed to hold well enough and with a dash of protective magic to keep it sturdy and undamaged from wear and tear, Alastor placed it inside a velvet box.
Niffty jumped down as he made to stand from his desk and stretch. He threw on his coat, bid Niffty farewell, and made his way to Cannibal Town. It was late in the evening, which meant Rosie should be finishing up with any clients she might have.
He stepped through the front doors of her emporium and observed her advising a disgruntled woman on what to do with her dolt of a husband. Rosie caught sight of him and waved, sending him a vibrant grin. He returned the gesture and waited by the knickknacks for her to finish up, making polite chitchat with some of the few remaining guests.
It wasn’t much longer before Rosie shooed everyone out and closed up the emporium. As soon as she flipped the sign, she immediately swept Alastor up in a hug.
Alastor laughed, “Long day?”
“Oh, just the usual business, you know how it is,” she said, brushing off the sleeve of his jacket, “But never mind any of that, what brings you here?”
“Well, I have a bit of a surprise for you.”
Rosie’s pitch black eyes sparkled in excitement, “Oh? Well, come on then, don’t keep me waiting!”
She ushered him further into the emporium before they entered her personal quarters. Quaint and homey, full of Rosie’s cute and morbid tastes in decorum. He slipped off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack before sitting down with her on the couch. She looked so eager, her hands clasped together to keep them still, and something blossomed in Alastor’s chest. Something soft, mushy, gooey, and weird. But with that, came a nagging doubt that itched at the back of his mind.
Rosie had liked all of his gifts thus far, but he had never made something like this before. Something so small and intricate and meant to be worn. His most well-crafted gift was the radio he had given her decades ago, still kept safe on the nightstand in her bedroom. Most of his gifts had been ripped and torn out of others or himself and dropped into her hands. Simple things, but always with the thought of Rosie in mind as he did it. And she appreciated every single one, so this shouldn’t have been any different. But doubt was not always an easy to thing sway.
Alastor pulled out the velvet box and gently placed it in her waiting hands. He watched her open it, watched her eyes shine and heard her let out a soft gasp. She touched his tooth, her thumb almost ghosting across it before she looked back up at him.
“Is this one yours? Did you make this?”
He grinned and nodded, “Yes, and I did.”
It was one of his canines. Like Rosie’s serrated teeth, it was hard to notice unless one paid close attention, but his canines were longer than the rest. It was a pain to rip out, but it grew back quickly enough and he knew she would appreciate such a detail.
Rosie hugged him tight, still holding the box in one hand. “I love it! I absolutely love it!”
Whatever tension and doubt Alastor had been holding onto ebbed away. He relaxed into her touch before returning her hug. He rested his chin on her shoulder and let himself hold her just as tightly because this was Rosie and she deserved only the best.
When she pulled away to look at the necklace again, he let out a short laugh, “Well, I’m glad you like it. It was actually a lot of fun to make. I might try my hand at making those clawed rings you mentioned wanting ages ago.”
Rosie beamed at him before gently lifting the necklace out of the box. She held it up for a moment, observing, and noting aloud the acidic green of his magic that was intertwined in the cord and that outlined the teeth. He told her it was to keep it from suffering any damage from wear and tear, and her grin seemed to widen.
“Will you help me put it on?” she asked, voice soft. And how could he ever say no to her?
She held the necklace against her chest as he clasped it together at her neck. When she turned back to face him, she kept a delicate finger against his tooth. He liked the contrast it presented against her clothes, the whites, yellows, and dried blood against her dark clothes. And in the right light, the green stood out sharply, an ever present glow.
“It looks nice on you,” Alastor murmured, static filter dropping.
Rosie’s smile had softened, but it was still just as bright and excited as before, “I really do love it. Thank you.”
Alastor dropped his head against hers and listened to her titter. That gross, mushy thing in his chest felt like it was oozing and he didn’t want it showing so blatantly on his face. But his grin was inescapably wide as he said, “I’m glad.”