A/N: Since each chapter poster here will actually be a one-shot, every chapter will get its own summary, list of characters, genre, warnings etc. These are also being posted on tumblr, and will more than likely be posted there before here.

Summary: The renowned vampire of hearts ponders over the absence of monster of love from his life.

Characters: Valentine/C. A. Cupid

Warnings: Kind of a EAH fic as well. A bit of angst I suppose. Feels. Let's go with Feels.

Totally Rotodisk fault that I ship this. Their artwork, inspires me~ And honestly if you've never heard of them and you like MH or EAH you should look them up on tumblr or DA. Such amazing artwork. Wow.

Mirrored Hearts

I am a creature of hearts.

Not a creature of blood like my sisters and brothers. Unlike those that prowl and lurk these halls, thirsting for what beasts in the veins of others, I desire something richer. Something fuller.

A heart, darling.

Precious and tender. The emotions of those that possess pure and loved hearts are invigorating. It gives so much more life to the undead than a drop of blood. Hearts of sadness, joy, anxiety and grief. All emotions are powerful things. But none so enriching as love, my sweet.

To collect a loved heart, shinning, brilliant, powerful, was all I could ever truly crave. A collection to keep me well satiated. My prize and claim on this undead world. My place of power and influence displayed prestigiously upon my shelf.

My power of love.

Now stripped of me.

But I am still a creature of hearts, my pet.

That is why I have found you satisfy me so. Hearts might not have been your born nature, but you've learned them well. There's still error in your aim, but don't we all get swept up in the game? Arrow straight and true or not, there is no denying your heart shines bright and pure. Not just full of the emotions others have poured into you, but the emotions you rain down upon those around you.

A brilliant, powerful love, that is hard to overlook.

My own twisting and conjuring of emotions may have faded in the light of what you call 'true love', but my hunger still remains. You may express that the hearts we crave and shape are stronger than we in the end, you may utter many things, darling, but in the end it holds true.

I crave a heart to consume and you crave a heart to mend.

You are a creature of hearts. And a feast never ending to me.

My sweet, I could lurk every hallway, every haunt, and every graveyard for eternity, and there is not a monster that could compare. What beats in your chest; what emotion lock in your eyes; that sensation pulsates in your body I could soak in down to the marrow of my bones, and feel satisfied. Yet still want more.

And what I take and conceal and shatter you do mend so well, my darling. Following after me as I follow after you. We were made for this song and dance. To break hearts and mend them. To feed off the emotional highs and lows of other monsters around us.

That is to say, you and I are right for each other. With me, lurking by my side in the shadows of hearts is where you should always be.

So why aren't you now?

The pinnacle prize of my desire, stolen away through a magic doorway. A mirror. Vanity reflects upon the heart, and perhaps you would tell me I am vain to think that only my heart matters. But that is what I chase them for. My own heart.

Never would Ms. Bloodgood send another with you. And while you send back letters and musings of far off places, and strange normie children that are in fact enchanted, I cannot help but scoff. Surly there is nothing there that holds a candle to the time we had here? There cannot be a heart there that is more eloquent and captivating as my own.

You wound me, my dear, writing with such gleeful joy. Even on your letters, your heart shines true and pure. You do so love mending and spreading your love. I am sure it abounds through that wretched mirror world. And if not you will make it, with your promise of 'true love'. Arrow straight and true or not.

But you know deep down there is no heart there that matches yours. They are children of fables and musings and concoctions of myths. You are a monster. You are like me.

A creature of hearts, not of fairy tales.

So while you spread your bewitched wings and search for hearts' desires among those ghastly inferior bed time tales. I shall carry on without you. You may compliment me, but I do not need you.

Stripped of my conjuring and my twisting of emotions I can still collect hearts and feed my desires without you. I shall not think of you, my dear.

Already in my mind I see my collections growing again. Not of loved and beaming hearts so true, but torn and tattered and abandoned hearts so blackened with neglect and oversight.

Upon my shelf now, I have one already. Our last memento before you went through the looking glass. The panicle of my broken collection. The forgotten emotions of a lover, swept aside for duty and the sake of 'love'.

What better way to start than with the heart of a creature of hearts.

My own.