Hello everyone, Merry Christmas! This is just some Christmas fluff with some sexy dancing and Twilight bashing.

Dracula's Christmas Carol

"No, no, no!" Dracula chided angrily as a dwerger made yet another mistake with the decorating.

"Are you colour-blind as well as stupid? The tree is only meant to have black babbles! Why are you hanging red ones?"

"Because they match my hair, master!" screeched an indignant Aleera. She leaned in close to him and started stroking his hard chest. "They also match some festive lingerie I bought." She smirked like the conniving minx she was.

Dracula almost returned her sexy smile before realizing that she was trying to distract him from the task at hand.

"I'm sorry, my love, but this is my house and I believe I was quite clear when I said I wanted a black Christmas as a sign of mourning to our dead children."

There was an awkward silence as his frank reminder sank in. Verona and Marishka joined hands with Aleera so that the Count was sandwiched between the three of them. Ordinarily he would have taken advantage of this situation but sense they were all piercing him with their menacing glares, he didn't think they would be easily seduced.

"That policy is morbid, even for you!" Marishka spoke out. "We should be hanging bright decorations as a beacon of hope! It is Christmas after all!"

"Are you so stupid, Marishka, that you believe we actually have a right to celebrate Christmas?! We are the walking dead and the only reason I agreed to this was because the three of you promised me that everything would be black!" he pouted.

Verona graced his neck with a soft kiss by way of comfort. "My Lord, if you keep complaining we will never have a foursome with you again."

He snorted in disbelief. "Yeah right! Even if you three could conjure up enough freewill to resist me, I wouldn't care anyway! Lately our sexual escapades have been lacking- wait, I know a joke that would express my point better. Hey you! Dwerger! Come listen to my joke!"

The short troll groaned before answering his master's call.

"Dwerger, I think my wives are dead! Now, you," he motioned to the dwerger, "ask me if there are any signs."

"Lkgkjhouotbnkddhkholg?"

"Close enough. Well, to answer your question, the sex is much the same, but the housework is piling up!"

Dracula and the dwerger burst into fits of laughter while the three brides became deathly quiet.

As Dracula was recovering from his fit of mirth, Verona grabbed him by his pony tail. At the same time, Aleera and Marishka threw the offending dwerger into a nearby incinerator.

"Not the hair! Not the hair!" he screeched, for fear that Verona would succeed in pulling a clump out. Just when he thought he would be left bald, she unhanded him and flung him to the other side of the foyer. It was times like these that he regretted choosing three brides. One bride with six breasts would have been more fun.

"How dare you mock our pain!" Marishka shouted. "We worship you and you treat us like dirt! We carry your young for months and months without a word of thank you and-"She was cut off by Aleera.

"And you never compliment our new clothes!"

Both Marishka and Verona gave their sister a look. "Maybe you shouldn't talk so much," Verona conceded.

"I second that," muttered Dracula as he got to his feet.

"SHUT UP!"

That was one step too far. He had had enough of their rebellion. "SILENCE! I am master here! Now, as punishment for disobeying and manhandling me, Christmas is cancelled and shall remain cancelled until we track down Dr. Frankenstein's monster and succeed in bringing our children to life!"

"But, master-", they protested meekly.

"My word is law!"

With his version of order restored he swished his hands and all the decorations crumbled to dust. His work done, he flounced out of the foyer, slammed the door behind him and made for his personal chambers.

"Bah humbug!"

OOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Dracula lay stretched out on his bed, completely bored. His pyjamas were black silk and on his head he wore a black Santa hat, the one festive decoration in the castle that remained.

What to do? There were a few issues of Playboy hidden under his mattress, but he was ashamed to admit that his sex drive wasn't quite up to it. Ugh! He was becoming womanish! Too busy dwelling on arguments and other melancholic matters to nurture his best friend- Count Hotshaft von Hugenstein who resided in his trousers.

In a desperate bid to fall asleep, he cuddled up beneath his blankets and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to give up all hope, an outline of a person presented itself in his head and began to dance enticingly. Yes! An erotic dream! Just what he needed to unwind and forget his troubles. There was nothing wrong with his libido! He was as much a man as ever.

As Dracula became more aroused, the figure danced closer and closer until it was almost in front of him and then-

"Aaaaaaghh!" Dracula shrieked as he bolted up in his four-poster bed, which was soaked in sweat. Alas, he failed to escape from his nightmare as it had followed him past the border into reality. "Gabriel! What are doing in my bedroom?!"

"Behold! I am the Ghost of Christmas Past!" announced a smokin' Gabriel Van Helsing.

While Dracula was dumbfounded by his frenemy's sudden reappearance, he was more concerned with concealing Count Hotshaft von Hugenstein who was creating a rather obvious dent in his pj bottoms. Gabriel's ensemble wasn't helping matters.

"Uh, before I kill you, would you mind putting your shirt back on?"

Van Helsing stopped shimmying and obliged. "Sorry, man. I get sweaty when I dance. Whoa, dude! Is that…? In your pants…?"

"I'm wearing leather jammies! They chafe badly!", he tried to distract the hunter, "And what the hell do you mean, Ghost of Christmas Past? I ordered a sex dream, not this epiphany crap!"

"Oh, is that why you're so happy to see me? You thought I was a foxy chick?"

"From the distance, I thought you were Anna Valerious wearing a dominatrix outfit," he huffed.

Van Helsing opened his mouth to protest but then he was distracted by said image in his head. "Dude, that's hot."

The old comrades shared a moment of silence, appreciating the arousing mental picture.

"To answer your first question my brother from another mother, you have forgotten the true meaning of Christmas and it's up to me to remind you!"

Dracula was piqued. How dare he accuse him of such a thing! "I know good and well what the true meaning of Christmas is, thank you very much! How to score with hot babes!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Van Helsing chided. "Correction, my friend, I think you'll find that the true meaning of Christmas is how to score with hot babes without getting them pregnant!"

Dracula collapsed into a heap of giggles, no wait, manly guffaws. "Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel-just how stupid do you think I am? Of course you wouldn't want me to get anyone pregnant, you're the Left Hand of God! If my progeny were to live, they would rule the world and you would be run off your feet! I think getting women pregnant is of pure benefit to me. Are you truly too lazy to face my children in battle?"

Van Helsing quivered in fury.

"For your information Count I work two jobs- demon hunter by night and lap dancer by..eh, other nights. Here's my card in case your wives need some satisfaction!" with that he flung a card at Dracula which read- Gaby the walking vibrator, for all your carnal needs. As sponsored by Carl.=)

While Dracula knew he should be angry and insulted he couldn't help but smirk admiringly at his old enemy's brazen attempt at expanding his own enterprise.

"Is their much business to be had in this line of work?" he inquired.

Van Helsing nodded smugly. "Oh yeah, bachelorette parties, birthdays, even to lighten the mood at the occasional funeral. Plus, it keeps my body firm and limber." To prove his point, he lifted his shirt up to reveal his hard belly. Dracula, who had seen enough, quickly averted his gaze.

"Oh crap! What time is it?! We have to get going or you'll never have your epiphany in time for Christmas morning!" Van Helsing scolded himself over the time he had wasted.

Before Dracula could protest, the scene had changed and he and Van Helsing were standing in the middle of a buzzing square, full with mothers and their children. He recognised this place…of course! They were in Wallachia!

"Look familiar?" Van Helsing smiled fondly. "You were the big cheese, impregnating women left, right and centre! Most of these beautiful women were confined to wheelchairs after you were done with them! Their legs gave out with the pleasure! So yes, in this case, getting women pregnant was a good thing."

Dracula wiped a tear from his eye. "Good times," he agreed, staring at all the young children with nostalgia.

"But," Van Helsing held up his index finger, "times change, my friend."

Suddenly, Dracula found himself alone in the foyer of Castle Dracula. His brides were crying and trying to comfort one another after his outburst earlier. Wait, if this was the present, where was his Ghost to guide him?

As if on cue, there was a light nudge against his ankle. He looked down and was greeted by the dwerger that had been burnt to a crisp earlier that day.

Awkward.

"Oh…hello slave, sorry my sexist joke got you killed," he tried to make amends.

The dwerger grunted indifferently.

Huh, he doesn't seem to have the gift of the gab or Gabby rather. Hehe…

There was an ear-splitting howl and Dracula quickly returned his attention to his brides who continued to huddle together.

"Why must the master be so cruel?"

"Why can't he understand our feelings and be more sympathetic?"

"Why won't he stop whoring himself with other women?"

"WHY WON'T HE BRING OUR CHILDREN TO LIFE?!"

By this time, Dracula was terrified. Those three, when angry, were lethal. His scalp was still sore from Verona's hair pulling. He quivered in fear.

There was another nudge at his ankle. He looked down to where the dwerger had spelt in his own blood-AND IT GETS WORSE. PEACE OUT BRO.

Time was shifting again. Finally, Dracula found himself in a booming nightclub. This was a pleasant change indeed-there were many delicious ladies gracing the dance floor. His newfound happy mood was tripled when he looked to his right and saw the Ghost of Christmas yet to Come- Dr. Frankenstein's monster. Dracula did a silent, victory dance in celebration.

"So, I do eventually capture you?"

"Yes, but the consequences are dire," the monster warned, as he withdrew a book from his coat pocket.

Dracula's good mood evaporated.

"Where did you get that shit that somehow warrants the title 'book'?

Silence.

"Where, damn you?! Those books are banned when I am present!" he hissed as he snatched the copy of Breaking Dawn from the monster's grip.

"Dude, I can't stand that shithole series either, but, like it or not, this book can teach you a thing or two…the true nature of your offspring for one!"

"You're lying! Meyer lied about everything! Nothing in these pages can be true! C-can it?"

"Read it, man."

Reading a sequel to that demented Toilet novel was torture, and he should know, he spent years of his mortal life impaling people on stakes. He had the epically long story read within minutes and when he was finished, he puked on it.

"Dude! I'm sorry you had to go through that but it was necessary! Do you understand why you can't have any kids?"

Dracula was in denial. He started shaking his head back and forth as shudders of dread vibrated through his body.

"It can't be true! My children were monsters! You saw them yourself, they were gooey, little bats-"

"Naw man, that was just how they looked after being born. After a couple of hours they turn into little Renesmees. They grow and talk within weeks and want to bring peace and love to the world. They also never die. That myth is the ONE thing that Meyer was truthful about."

"How could that warped woman be right? OH GOD!" Dracula realised something that set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. "The werewolves! My thousands of guards will imprint on my thousands of kids! I'll lose my hold on the wolves' will, they'll attack me and kill me and they'll rape my children when I'm dead!"

With that horrific revelation, Dracula fell to the ground and wept.

"Naw bro, it's not too late! Go back to Castle Dracula and stop searching for me! You and your brides can adopt kids if you want them that badly. Go back and prevent the birth of thousands of mutated fairy-vampires!"

Dracula remained on the ground, sobbing for his children. Frankenstein had no choice but to hoist him up and slap him silly.

"Thanks Frankie! You're right, I've got to go back and stop this from ever happening! I can't be an idle parent like Bella or Edward who were more than happy to give their child to the paedophile werewolf! Wait a sec…," something dawned on him.

"Frankie, why did you bring me to a nightclub in order to teach me this lesson?"

The monster shrugged, "I've been trying to get some play with the local hotties."

"Oh…how's that working out?"

"Not good. They took down all the mistletoe when I arrived."

"Gabriel and I should teach you some moves sometime."

"I look forward to it, man."

The two hugged in a brotherly fashion and the next thing he knew, Dracula was in his own bed again. Not only that, but he could sense the sun rising.

He jumped out of bed, hoping that he wasn't to late. He ran out into the hall, still in his pyjamas and called to a nearby dwerger, "You! Dwerger! What day is it, today?"

"ljksdnhjksahfajadnsj!"

"Close enough!"

He made a whooshing movement with his hands and the most colourful, uplifting decorations seemed to materialise out of nowhere.

Next, he went to his brides' room where they were just about to retire to their respective coffins.

"Oh look, it's our menopausal husband, sisters!" Verona laughed bitterly.

The other two laughed along with her. Luckily for them, Dracula was in far too good a mood to let them bother him. He snapped his fingers and made a wish.

"Did that manage to destroy your maternal instincts?" he asked hopefully.

"We hate children!" they all chimed unanimously.

"Great! God, bless us, everyone!"

That Christmas morning was the best they had ever shared together. They exchanged presents and had sex, then exchanged more presents and had more sex. With contraception of course. Before they all gathered around the big Christmas tree, Dracula had had the time to conjure up a giant box of Trojan condoms. His favourite Christmas present was from all three of his brides- a hair straightener. Life was good.