Lawl, I'm so bored. So here's some Deidara drabble goodness. No idea about his history, so it's all mineymineymine.

Well, Naruto isn't, but the story is

Deidara had never been what could have been considered a 'normal' child. Rather than playing with toy shuriken, he would hole himself up in his room, and create beautiful, captivating sculptures. Maybe it wasn't such a surprise when he learnt how to detonate them, and when his morbid fascination of ending human life began.

That probably contributed to his academy days as well. It wasn't long when Deidara became top of his class, and graduated to Genin level at the young age of 9. A prodigy some called him, a shinobi perfect to defend his village.

However, as his abilities progressed, so did his art. It wasn't long after he advanced to chuunin level at age 11 that his sculptures became darker. Warped birds, with long, spiny feathers and dark eyes littered the flat surfaces of the house.

Of course, when the war against Konoha began, it was then Deidara had his first kill. That dead shinobi sparked something inside of Deidara, and increased his fixation with death. The birds grew darker yet, their talons growing longer and sharper. He began to branch into other subjects for his art, dragons, tigers, and of course. The dead.

Deidara's only smiles would come when he finished one of them. A ghastly sculpture's screaming face and splayed limbs were only a slight indicator of the artist's growing psychosis. He was quickly slipping away from reality, and instead being sucked into his own world of macabre.

It was after hours of trawling through books of forbidden jutsu, that he discovered a way to animate his sculptures. It was a sculpture of a dead shinobi that he tried it on first. The horrific scream that erupted was music to Deidara's ears.

He soon combined the explosion and animation of his sculptures to create his final masterpiece. The bird that would destroy Iwakagure. It was his best piece yet, a raven with a manic expression. He animated it, and with a psychotic face, detonated.

When the flesh and blood of his teachers and family littered the floor, the artist had finally finished.

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