A/N: This fic is for The Lady Avaritia's Dark Beauty One-shot Contest; I blame the monstrosity that is to follow on her, whahaha! *Hugs* Seriously…this is probably the weirdest thing I've ever written…Kami help me…(and Kami help you, my foolish little reader. Kami help you…)


-includes at least one mention of the word 'darkness'

-has the quote "Beautiful sins, like beautiful things, are the privilege of the rich." (Dorian Grey)

-it can be any length you desire, and any pairing/character

-include a mention of either Madara or Orochimaru at least once. It can be any mention, from somebody thinking how Oro is evil and should die, to an M rated scene with the two of them getting it on.

Title: A Nightmare in a Nightmare Wrapped in a Tsukuyomi

Sum: Orochimaru and Madara walk into a bar…and no, this is not a joke. This is not even funny. This is a horror story that should have never been witnessed and memorized with a sharingan. Rated M for madness. Cracktastic!

Warning: bizarre dark humor! Proceed with beer goggles!

There is nothing but the sound of pine sap popping in the fire; there is not even breathing, or laughing, or crying: there is just a void, a nothingness where once comrades joked and teased and guffawed. There is only one man to blame for this violent, terrifying silence that descends between the three ninja; but maybe, truly, he is not to blame. Perhaps he is just a product of this flawed ninja world? Even so… It will be a long time before he is forgiven, years before the miasma of his misdeed clears in the air and his teammates can forgive him again.

It started simply enough, a narrative told over a campfire, words like any other that sought to amuse, to distract, to dissect the past and to stand above it, like a mad scientist admiring his Frankenstein. But what happens when the monster comes to life, rears its ugly head, all green putrid flesh and stitches unraveling with the effects of time? When the past is confused with the future and becomes the present, that is where the trouble begins.

It starts simply enough. With a sibilant voice, wrapping around the auditory nerves like velvet, like an expensive and exquisite genjutsu, until a detailed picture is painted in the mind's eye; and this picture slowly fills, slowly but surely the pace quickens. And the listener does not know when it happens, but a horror vacui is soon depicted over the fresh, white innocence of the soul, until only the darkness, the demonic creatures, remain.

It will start…like this.

Orochimaru and Madara walk into a bar.

No, he assures them, this is not a joke. This is not even funny. This is a horror story that should have never been witnessed and memorized with a sharingan. He clears his throat and continues.


Orochimaru and Madara walk into a bar. The Snake Sanin laughs deeply; it is a sensuous rumbling sound that threatens to curl around your neck and strangle you, but Madara seems unperturbed. "The drinks are on me," the evil Uchiha says with a forced laugh. "After all, we're celebrating you."

"Ku, ku, ku! Madara, you are too kind!" the pale ninja replies susurringly as he sits down at the bar.

Madara's orange mask nods, and one cold, calculating eye peers out at the Sanin, who is currently pursuing the drink menu. He orders the most expensive thing on the list, a bottle of sake that predates even Madara's ancient ass; but Madara himself is silent. Apparently, Orochimaru is no cheap date, and the Uchiha thinks to himself, Beautiful sins, like beautiful things, are the privilege of the rich. It is a quote, but from what book, he does not care to remember. It is something his father would often say as he pillaged villages, killed their warriors, and stole their women; Madara is not sure why he remembers it now, but the quote rings in his head like the tolling of a bell. Perhaps he is just feeling lucky; after all, it is no small feat to have enlisted Orochimaru into the Akatsuki.

The waiter comes over and uncorks the sake, pours it into ceramic shot glasses, bows, and leaves. Madara takes a sniff of the drink; he isn't paying all this money to get poisoned, after all. "To us," he says, after he is satisfied that his drink is clean. The two clink their cups and unfortunately, their fingers brush; Madara feels chills run through him, as if he had just touched the fingers of death himself. He finds it oddly exhilarating. He shakes off this strange feeling and throws back his drink. Orochimaru peers over the rim of his own cup, but does not get a satisfactory look at Madara's features, which pleases the Uchiha.

"Are you ugly, Uchiha Madara? Is that why you wear a mask?" Orochimaru asks, his voice coy and gruff all at once. The question, and the tone the question is asked in, displeases Madara, and he voices this to his drinking companion. But Orochimaru only laughs that rumbling, suffocating laugh, "Ku, ku, ku!" before downing another shot glass.

Soon, the bottle is empty, and they order another one, one that is even more expensive than the last. Apparently, it wasn't listed on the menu and was saved for special *cough cough, suckers* customers. But Madara is drunk on the fine wine they have enjoyed, and his ire is not raised—at least, it is not raised any more than it usually is.

Madara is in fine spirits; with the addition of Orochimaru, his Moon's Eye plan will definitely be realized. Orochimaru proposes a toast, and after they drink their alcohol, the pale man tosses a glass vial to his new boss. Madara eyes it with his one free eye and roars with laughter.

It is a vial containing the First Hokage's cells, which have been spliced, diced, and improved upon by Orochimaru. It will be the perfect thing to form the second half of Zetsu out of, and Madara murmurs his appreciation.

After that, the night is a bit of a blur; Madara casts a genjutsu over a pine cone, convincing their server that it is a solid block of gold. The two associates link arms and sing songs all the way back to the Akatsuki hide-out, old Konoha drinking songs that the rogue nin haven't enjoyed in ages. Most are dirty and are about hookers, illicit drugs, alcohol and gambling. "To the good old days," Orochimaru toasts, drawing out a flask of the Fire Country's strongest whisky from his front vest pocket; he takes a long gulp and passes the flask to Madara. The Uchiha discretely tips his mask to drink—

And that's when the serpent strikes! He knocks off the mask with ninja acuity, and as the orange mask falls to the ground and breaks with a loud thwack!, Orochimaru merely laughs, "Ku, ku, ku! What a pretty face you've been hiding under that hideous mask!"

Madara is about to form a caustic retort when he feels rough hands grabbing him by his lapels, and some idle part of his mind thinks I haven't been this drunk since the war, when I slept with that prostitute who turned out to be a goat in the morning…a fat, ugly goat, and the world seems to lurch slowly, slowly, because that is how things lurch when one is shit-faced.

And then there is something wet and slippery being shoved down his throat, and somehow he is naked…wait! When the fuck did he become naked? And then…total blackout.

The next day, Madara's ass hurts. A lot. And he's got weird hickeys…and…and Orochimaru is in his bed. And…and…

There is no time for Madara to run to the bathroom, because he is going to vomit up expensive sake and caviar, and he's going to do it all over Orochimaru because god damn it, god damn it all! That's when Orochimaru wakes up, and he's totally covered in…well, suffice to say that Orochimaru-sama is greatly displeased. This was not how he envisioned his first day as an official Akatsuki goon.

But Madara, Madara is infinitely more displeased, and he casts Tsukuyomi on Orochimaru, because oh yes there are definitely worse things than waking up in a puddle of someone else's vomit. It is then that Madara takes a shower and goes about plotting how to make Orochimaru's life a living hell for the next year, and damn it all his ass fucking hurts!

That is the last time Madara ever buys drinks for new Akatsuki members. And before the year is out, Orochimaru leaves the Akatsuki, citing sexual harassment as the impetus for his departure. Madara flips him the bird on the way out.

And as those lasts words, flips him the bird… as they roll off of Sasuke's tongue, that's when Naruto roars, "What the hell Sasuke! What kind of ghost story was that?"

"Because I am haunted by this story every day of my emo existence," the Uchiha replies in a monotone, absolutely serious. "No one has known my pain…until now."

"B-But S-Sasuke-kun," Sakura whispers, "h-how…?" How did he know, in such lurid detail, a story which, chronologically speaking, happened before Sasuke had ever met Madara, let alone Orochimaru!

"Because. I disobeyed Madara. I… I drank his orange juice. And…there was no more at the grocery store. So… he cast Tsukuyomi. And he trapped me in this…this!…memory." The Uchiha shudders and swallows back the bile rising in his throat. "The worst part though," he continues in a hushed whisper, "is that…the part where he blacks out…well…I experienced that. Every livid detail. And it seemed to last…for days…"

After that, there is just silence, and the popping of the fire; there is no breath, no laughter, no cry, because the three ninja are silently contemplating days of being drunkenly taken advantage of by Orochimaru, in the nightmare that is Madara's nightmare wrapped up in a Tsukuyomi.

It's hard to say who vomits first, Naruto or Sakura, but it is enough to say that even Sakura felt kind of bad for Madara, and could understand a little bit better why he had been such a raging asshole in the last war.

"Sasuke," Naruto shouts hoarsely, "That…why? Dear gods, why did you even tell us that horrible story? Whhhyyyyyyy?" It is an animal howl that leaves his lips and tears up the silence.

And when they return to Konoha…Naruto and Sakura request that Sasuke gets taken off of their team. And when Tsunade asks, all incredulous and why now? The mother fucker betrayed Konoha but you said he would always be your teammate, always!, they simply reply that some things are just unforgivable, and they stifle the urge to cry.

a/n well, that was a fun romp. Hope that you didn't hate it...:X

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