芸術は爆発だ!

Tremble! Be afraid! Recoil in despair! Cower in awe! And cry your heart out, because my art… is an EXPLOSION!

[imsical-deactivated20210729]

His rage knows no bounds. Where does this savage get the nerve to say something as banal as 'good morning'? Never mind that the sun and rain had just slashed the sky open to reveal every colour imaginable—AND that the vibrant display had lasted a mere forty seconds before starting to dim and fester. Just for this guy to describe it as 'good'. Ignorant. Crass. "What's so good about it, hm."

@claygobs – unprompted.

ㅤㅤㅤAs unlikely as that was, the heavy silence that hung thick after his greetings felt so intimate that in his core, he knew what was to come, as if he had the artist figured out by all the little things. Which wasn't true, not for a second. Though, that didn't stop Itachi from allowing a small, short-lived smile to spread his lips at Deidara's crude response.

ㅤㅤㅤWasn't it for the Raven's poise - his back turned to his company as his eyes inspected the blurry outside through the window, the uncharacteristic remaining softness painting his features would've been laid bare, and, certainly, prompted a heated argument. And regardless of how much Itachi relished it every time - selfishly testifying his influence over Deidara - this morning, particularly, he wished to maintain the sluggish pace.

ㅤㅤㅤ"— That's not something I can share with you, really. Not how I experience the little things -  the feelings I get from listening to the rainfall, or the slight longing for the song of the birds I heard earlier that were chased away by the storm..."

ㅤㅤㅤNow, that was getting too personal too quickly, the odd feeling of exposure making his skin itch and... warm up.

ㅤㅤㅤ"— I suppose the rainy weather isn't for everybody."

[claygobs]

What color is your love language?

Cerulean

Key words: fun, youthful, exciting. For you, love is fun, bright, and exciting! When you're in love, you feel young and on top of the world. You'd much rather a trip to the beach or an amusement park than a regular old dinner date, and you're likely to want to travel to exciting places with the people you love the most. Your ideal lover is someone who can keep up with you and knows how to have an exciting time. Best matched with: Cerulean, Canary, Fern

Stolen from: myself tbh :pensive: Tagging: @imsical​ (itachi!), @konohamuses​ (sasuke!), @akatzombie​

[peccables]

via we♡it

[claygobs]

asaraltu​:

“I’ll be sure not to break your back with my cane,” the Uchiha replied with a wicked smirk beneath his mask, glad that the blond brat wasn’t a browbeaten little weakling who could cow beneath his gaze. Too often had he been presented with wretches such as that, little whelps who believed themselves so invincible until they withered miserably before the might of a true god. A title reserved to Nagato, for now, but the Uzumaki brat knew better than to question his might when all that he was came from Madara in the first place. 

He could see the young man’s chakra fluctuate in his presence, a cauldron of the burnished golds and mustard tang that seemed to come with the Namikaze, reeking of sulfur that suited the boy’s soul far too well. There, for now, he was the cool arrogance of Tobi, this whelp likely not even knowing just who it was he contended with. Without the cowardly disguise of his predecessor, all who crossed him knew him for what he was. Especially when his clan was dead and gone and he was wrathful from the loss of them.

“Watch your tongue, boy. Pray I don’t lose my patience and cut your tongue out to feed to the birds. All of them.”

It was a cool threat, without much ire. To think such a statement would’ve set him off before, but it was different now. None but Pein knew the truth of his vendetta, of what could come of this miserable earth too enamored with its own suffering to look past and see. Like the wretched cloud cover that saturated the skies of Amegakure, embroiled in their petty wars and dalliances that were fruitless in the face of true enlightenment. “Come. I’d rather not delay, unless you’d rather play with your little clay dolls.”

Oh, he’d just love to see this guy try. 

It had already come as an unexpected lesson to Deidara that the nature of his kinjutsu really was ravenous, obvious as that might seem. The mouth whose tongue lolled out and tickled his palm—which wasn’t technically his palm—was evidence enough of that. Not that he’d let his charming new partner know it.

After all, losing body parts still hurt like a bitch... and this guy had some seriously ominous energy that had his chakra prickling across his skin, little needles of static to pull little hairs on his nape practically taut just from the power of it. 

...Things were about to get really interesting, weren’t they? If not only because the masked man didn’t even adhere to the usual dress code, which did wonders for singling him out as something different, then because there shouldn’t even be another Uchiha in the world—not outside of Itachi and the snotty baby brother he’d left behind. He supposed that much wasn’t lost on this stranger, which was truthfully part of the reason he’d prodded, and given the silken threat that barely seemed to be dampened by the mask, it may just be a sore spot, too. 

Lucky that infuriating tone of his made things between them quite even, he noted with a scowl. Mingled fear and curiosity aside, Deidara was still the senior member of this cell. He wasn’t going to let anyone push him around like some underling.

❝Uh, listen up bitch,❞ he stated brashly, and framed his cheeks between his fanned out hands, showing off the mouths that seemed to grin with as much blustering confidence as the one on his face. ❝This art of mine is the reason we’ve got both the Sanbi and Ichibi sealed, mm. Until I see any bijū with your name on them, you just watch and learn.......... Tobi, yeah?❞

If that was even his name. Not that he gave a shit.

From one of the mouths was spat a tiny, round bird, minimalistic in both form and detail, which with a single gesture expanded into something resembling a cross between a pelican and a dragon. Just behind its fanned crest perched Deidara, who had been lifted from the ground as it grew in a puff of smoke.

❝I was told you had our orders from the boss,❞ he added casually, feeling a little better now that he was looking down, even if it’d only last a moment. ❝So hop on and we’ll get to it, mm.❞

[claygobs]

konohamuses​:

The shock with which Deidara regarded him was actually fairly satisfying. There were a range of emotions that showed on the blonde’s face in the next few seconds, and Sasuke simple raised an eyebrow, raising for more than an exclamation of his name. Because, yes, obviously, that was his name. There was no mistaking it was him. 

He was kind of anticipating seeing what Deidara’s final reaction would be to his appearance. Would it be anger? Fear? Sasuke had absolutely no idea and he actually like being surprised when it didn’t mean losing in a battle. A few second later, and suddenly Deidara started shouting at him, a kind of spitting, strangled shouting, as he backed up against the wall.

Which, meant, of course, that he was angry, but he was also afraid. Which was fair. If he hadn’t been able to defeat Sasuke then, he probably couldn’t do it now. But also–why the hell was he talking about his art now? How wsas that relevant. And–did he just call him a savage?

Sasuke was about to chuckle to himself when he noticed a clay spider flung at him. A quick substitution jutsu and he got out of there in time, but not without his cloak being a little singed. He put out the slightly burning edges and decided–why not chase after Deidara?

“Are you actually afraid or are you trying to lead me to an ambush?” Sasuke called as he followed Deidara, amongst screaming crowds as they reacted to the explosion nearby. “Because I would have thought it beneath you to run away from someone who isn’t even trying to kill you.” Was he kind of fucking with Deidara? Maaaaybe. But also he was a little curious about what the other had been up to and wanted to talk.

Was he afraid? Absolutely fucking not! But was being caught by Uchiha Sasuke who, loathe as he was to admit it (seriously, it was like swallowing acid) had beaten him last time and no doubt grown stronger since, highly likely to land him some dingy Konoha cell? Absolutely fucking yes!

And like bloody screaming hell was he going to be subjected to that, or some kind of little pissbaby ‘rehabilitation program’—or worse, therapy. Oh yeah, he’d heard that was the new in thing in the Leaf. Maybe that was why Sasuke himself seemed so relaxed, so waxen, so Nothing. Sure, he’d been a little like that last time, too—but back then, Deidara could smell the hatred, the killing intent, the absence of anything besides his goal. It had crackled in the air so deliciously, making his hair stand on end, and for all it had made him feel so woefully overlooked, it had at least been an admirable quality in a foe.

But now? Now he was probably just some subdued Konoha hound mopping up the mess, wasn’t he? There was no sign of his little bitch squad from back in the day, after all. And if he was correct in his suspicions, then this guy would see the likes of Deidara put in a cell.

So he ran. With one hand chewing furiously on clay while his other arm swung to knock aside a few unfortunate townspeople here and there, he needed to make it to an open spot where nobody could interfere with his flying C1 mount. Even this plan, admittedly—compared to his recent track record that had kept him well under the Five Nations’ radars—wasn’t subtle... but there was just something about coming face to face with an Uchiha that lit a rocket under his ass.

And there was also something about that pointed goading that wormed its way right beneath his skin, just as it was supposed to. He skidded to a halt where crowds gathered in the busy marketplace, very much in his way, and he tutted to himself sharply before his darting gaze fixed on the other, luridly cyan. Clearly neither wished to cause too much of a stir, but Deidara was hardly averse to it either.

Actually... he was getting a little excited.

❝Afraid?! Of you?! Pffaahahaha! Get real!!❞ Deidara hollered, grin so manically livid that people began to take note of the distinctly unhinged energy about him and avoided getting too close. ❝I’m not here for a catch-up, mm. I’ve got a job to do. So if you don’t fucking mind—❞

With a single hand seal concealed within his sleeve, his jutsu was prepared... and it wasn’t exactly the initial escape plan, either. Having yelled at the Uchiha, several likenesses of the Iwa-nin split suddenly off in numerous directions while the clay clone in the middle of the crowd launched itself towards Sasuke himself, intending to smother him in clay and hinder his movements. Meanwhile, the real Deidara was off elsewhere, leaping up some low canopies to pass one gaggle of punters and dip into a less populated alleyway, where he ran aimlessly through a warren-like network of paths until he came across a communal space lined with dumpsters.

And god, it fucking reeked. 

But he had no choice but to catch his breath and calm down before he took flight, otherwise the altitude would surely do him in.

[glittergroovy]

[claygobs]

asaraltu​:

@claygobs​ – ;

“So, you’re the little shit they’re teaming up with me, eh?”

He sure as hell hoped that Pein brat knew what the hell he was doing, especially since he was guarding his eyes until the day came to reclaim them. But, until then, he had far too much time to burn until the Tsuki no Me would come to fruition, especially since the body he donned then and there had been sacrificed by one of the Six Paths of Pein despite how little it really took, the King of Hell could only keep his body and soul intact for so many years at a time, and he was fast reaching his limit. So, as the Uzumaki had said, with Sasori’s death meant a new partner. And, last he checked, the Iwa-nin hated Uchiha.

All the more fun to make prey from the little clay bird he was allowed to toy with.

“Namikaze? I killed one of your clansmen, once. Not very impressive, if you ask me.”

❝And it looks like I’ve gotta deal with yet another crotchety old fuck, so I guess we’re both in the shit,❞ Deidara sneered, his teeth impulsively gnashing behind the high collar and within his sleeves. Oh, he caught that flash of crimson from within the dark void in that mask. His scope was currently sitting in his pocket, but he’d trained his eye specifically to deal with the Sharingan—to overcome its filthy, artless illusions—and so he glared dead into it, keeping his voice as smooth and level as he could.

❝Whatever. Don’t remember my old man lasting long when I blew him to pieces either, mm. Got nothing to do with his clan; he was just a weakling.❞ Not that he actually remembered anything about that, given he was only a few months new to the world at the time. Oh, but he sure had heard about it from that old prune Ōnoki, enough times he could’ve torn out his fucking eyeballs. Like he was supposed to be grateful he’d taken him in at all...

... Wait, why the hell did he feel the need to mention any of this to this new ‘partner’ of his? A brief moment spent stewing over the impulsive retort told him exactly why: Deidara was never open about his background to anyone, much less his childhood, so having his so-called ‘clan’ mentioned so flippantly had rankled him, driven him to bite. He sure as hell didn’t wear that name, or associate himself with any Namikaze at all, so what gave this fucker the right to comment?

❝Like anyone with those eyes could ever understand true art—what happened, huh? I thought Itachi’d picked you all off.❞

[claygobs]

konohamuses​:

Sasuke had stopped by the small village here, not too close to a shinobi village but not too far away, either, to get some supplies for his journey to the Land of Frost. A large woven bag in his left hand and a couple apples in his right, he stood in front of a fruit stand perusing their wares. Trying to remember what fruit would still be palatable if they ended up getting too cold or frozen. After a moment, he thought he remembered, way back in his memory, someone in his family telling him that apples didn’t freeze well. So he put it down and picked up some oranges, inspected them for a moment, and gestured to the shopkeeper. “I’d like to buy seven of these,” he said.

He was pulling some money from his pocket when he sensed a familiar chakra. But he thought they shouldn’t be alive. Pausing, he turned his head towards the source and focused his attention. It was indeed Deidara of the Akatsuki. He had survived. “Hm,” he all but grunted, in sort of interest, thinking he might as well check it out. 

Handing the shopkeeper the money, he stashed the oranges in his bag. He headed quickly towards where he sensed Deidara’s chakra, masking his own so he could creep up on him, hopefully unnoticed.

He leaned up against the wall near the–former or not former?–Akatsuki member, crossing his arms. “Last I remember, you blew yourself up. How’d you manage to survive that?” /// @claygobs​

By his standards, he’d been laying pretty low ever since his final technique had been rendered a sham, reshaping the land but not even taking anyone with it—not even himself. It had taken a long time to recover both his health and his pride having not only failed to go out in a blaze of glory, but to even kill the man he was fighting. The whole process took him straight to the other side of a Shinobi World War, leaving him... pretty unsure of what to do with himself, to say the least.

With no Akatsuki and no Hidden Village at his back, there were no longer any grand designs for which he could utilise his art, nor would he last very long at all if he was as indiscriminate as he was back then. That only left him with one choice: petty crime.

Well, not entirely petty. Mostly organised, actually, but the scale of it felt petty—more like fucking pathetic—in comparison, for all he didn’t care for Akatsuki’s goals. So that was it. He was a pathetic criminal. And this time, he’d just finished preparing his supplies for a heist in the Land of Frost, where he’d been hired by a rival daimyō to recover some shitty artefact. Usual affair—plant tiny explosives onto the guards, let them take them straight to the safe, blow the locks to kingdom come (and hopefully the guards, too), slip in and swipe. It was all very fucking dull, but the reward would keep him going for a while. 

Maybe it was this repetitive dullness, the tedium of his continued life that made Deidara a little rusty and careless, because the moment he heard a familiar voice, he whipped around in shock to find an even more familiar face in all its infuriatingly bland stoicism.

❝U-Uchiha Sasuke?! What the—❞ 

What the hell was he doing here, making such a casual observation?! Reducing his masterpiece to ‘blowing himself up’?! Ice-cold dread soon melted in his gut, then whipped up into a fury as his teeth clenched, trying to hold back the hellfire burning in his lungs... which failed after mere seconds, as useless as trying to hold back rising bile.

❝Like it’s any of your damn business, mm!❞ he spat, voice strangled and chest heaving with the effort not to bellow and draw attention as he backed himself into the opposite wall. ❝Like you’d ever understand the extent of my sublime art! Fucking Uchiha!! Fucking... SAVAGE!!!❞

With that said, he flung a clay spider at Sasuke’s face, yelled ‘KATSU’ and gestured to detonate it, and bolted. Which definitely wouldn’t draw attention.

[oprahsfatchin]

[capetian]

the kisses he presses hot onto my back are nothing short of tender benediction overwhelmed, the best excuse i can give is:  this is my sadness, here, in my heart, in my throat, blocking my words– if only i could find a way to make them right– if only i could find a way to say that i am sorry, now, for this, for the future, when our hearts break, when incredible is not enough– i am not holy but i am here and i know nothing about this or holiness.

m. (via capetian)

@claygobs

(via imsical)

[claygobs]

Deidara and the Explosion Corps. / Explosion Release:

The Explosion Corps. is an elite unit of shinobi who all possess the Explosion Release, which seems to be a random occurrence not specific to any particular clan/bloodline, but unique to Land of Earth. Most, if not all Explosion Release users will be expected to join the Corps.

Deidara, being (self-)orphaned so young, would have been handed over to an orphanage and put through standard academy schooling if not for his Explosion Release

As it stands, he was rather pampered as a ward of Ōnoki, who saw great promise in him and planned his induction into the Explosion Corps. from a young age. He wasn’t held in as high regard as Kurotsuchi, since he wasn’t considered as ‘part’ of the Tsuchikage’s family, but they were very close

There were other orphans with the Explosion Release of various ages who lived in the complex he was raised in, and were educated to a reasonable level alongside him. He didn’t get along with them very well. Explosion duels were common.

Sculpting was originally suggested as a means for the energetic, aggressive young Deidara to keep himself busy and relax. Notably, pottery and anything to do with stone/the earth is held in high regard in Iwa, so he was still being railroaded into being ‘useful’ in a sense, even when it came to pastimes (not that it made him feel any different about sculpting, having taken to it like a fish to water)

He often had issues with sculptures blowing up on him in the kiln as an amateur, and oddly he found himself not being disappointed by it. In fact, he was excited by it, and this initial spark was what became the basis for his obsession with fleeting art. 

The Explosion Corps. do not carry out ordinary missions in three-man cells, tending to be utilised purely for specific offence & demolition missions or inspiring fear. Deidara, having joined at the age of eight after being primed for the role, effectively skipped the usual stages of his development as a shinobi, and is really not a great team player as a result.

To reiterate this ancient headcanon, it is mandatory for members of the Explosion Corps. to learn sign language. Their working environments are just too loud not to. Of course, they also have their own unique sign language for communicating signals for attack, retreat etc. While Deidara isn’t completely deafened as a result of noise, he is more sensitive to vibrations than most thanks to spells of his hearing being really bad while his ears had recover.

His Isshun no Geijutsu’s first incarnation came in the form of explosive chakra concealed within cavities in his clay sculptures, which he would then throw and detonate. It wouldn’t click that he could truly combine Explosion Release with sculpting until later, however, when mockery of his art would drive him to research Iwagakure’s Kinjutsu.

There was no World War taking place during Deidara’s time in the Explosion Corps., however there were numerous, smaller scale wars in surrounding territories that he and his squad were utilised against. While he was commended for his work, his habit of lingering too long to watch the destruction often landed him in big trouble.

The Explosion Corps. really tried to stamp out the artist in Deidara, pointing out how foolish and a waste of time it was to combine explosions and pottery when he could simply point and blow things up. Nobody could really understand why he’d want to make a nice sculpture or urn just to blow it up when it did nothing to enhance his jutsu.

Ironically, it was using Iwagakure’s Kinjutsu elevated Deidara’s capabilities far beyond an ordinary member of the Corps. For a start, his Explosion chakra-infused sculptures appear completely benign, and are capable of movement once he possesses his hand-mouths, which in itself increases his capability for combining stealth and destruction of epic proportions in a way most Explosion Release users tend not to achieve. Of course, there’s also the fact that he achieves flight through his sculptures, which is how he manages to lay utter waste to Iwa and escape unharmed.

Even more ironically, it was an offhand comment from one of his superiors about sculptures and explosions being antithetical, and not meant to be married together, that inspired him to start delving for ways to prove him wrong.

That man was also the first to die! :)

[claygobs]

akatzombie‌:

     “Well, the good news is, you’re beginning to look like a human again,” Kakuzu observed. He pulled the plug at the end of the tub and started to drain the water with the filth, running the tap again at a warm temperature to replace the water they were losing. He used a fresh cloth to wash Deidara’s abdomen, and rinsed it out to wash his thighs and between them. “At least you don’t smell anymore,” he pointed out, using a dollop of shampoo to make the water bubbly again. 

     The next thing he did was attack Deidara’s hair, using a small container and the running water to wash the conditioner and tangles out. Finally, when Kakuzu could get a comb through it without any fuss, he started to massage shampoo through the lengths of Deidara’s hair. 

     “A hell toilet…?” Kakuzu finally asked. He’d done his best to avoid ever needing to break away from anything sharingan based. Kakuzu never wanted to know the feeling of being trapped in any of Itachi’s advanced genjutsus, nevermind some second rate sharingan user like Kakashi. Deidara’s experiences, however, could provide him with information valuable to any fights in the future. 

     Kakuzu pet his hand through Deidara’s hair, guiding the water through to rinse away the suds, and scratching his nails lightly against the scalp to make sure he’d washed through thoroughly, then went over once more with the conditioner, letting it sit. He rinsed out the cloth with a bit of soap, and then took Deidara’s chin between his fingers, scrubbing away left over make up, dirt, and saliva from sleep. 

     “Hm,” he observed. Deidara didn’t look half bad without his make up on. In fact, wet, and clean, and smelling like soap instead of various bodily fluids, Deidara looked half way attractive. “I would say we’re making some progress. Once your hair is rinsed and dried, and you’re in some clothes, you might look half way decent again. We’ll get something to eat, and start on your physical therapy from there.”

Well, he was really getting the works here, wasn’t he? 

Deidara seemed to remember hearing that some pervert types actually paid real money for treatment like this, except with scantily clad women doing the washing and presumably more of, uh... that kind of touching. Maybe it was just to offset how humiliated he still was by this whole thing, but picturing the money-grubbing Kakuzu making his millions in a similar way had him trying to hold back a snicker, then snorting softly when his will failed him.

It was still pretty fucking embarrassing though, especially once the nasty slurry of bathwater, greying soap and his general days-old grossness drained away, leaving him sitting there in the nude, trying to angle his leg to hide himself from too plain a view while Kakuzu washed him, and he thoroughly ignored all sensation. Maybe going in for a second round of hair pampering after the water began to lap at the tops of his thighs and hips anew was a tactical choice on his part. A reward for getting the awkward bit over and done with.

Psh. Like he was some kid or something. Although he couldn’t deny that those strong, decisive hands working his hair into a lather, then rinsing and combing out the tangles before repeating, definitely did something to help him loosen up and relax.

❝Right,❞ he went on, not really registering any bemusement in Kakuzu’s tone. Hell-toilet was a perfectly adequate description, of course, but maybe still not perfect since this was something they’d likely be facing again in the future. Even with his eyes closed against the occasional rivulets that slipped down his face, Deidara was clearly irked, his chin thrust into the air and eyebrows pinched. ❝Like... it was spinning and spinning and spinning, yeah, and sucking my actual fucking arm into... well, it felt like it was all going into a point at the centre, as small as a pinhole. Like a whirlpool in space! It was only by my own pure grit that I managed to just get pinched at the elbow and not lose the whole damn thing, mm.❞

He still couldn’t figure out what the hell it was though, and that bugged him. But at least he’d made it out of there with both his arms... eventually. It’d been a wild ride, overall. He considered himself lucky to have gotten out, especially since he didn’t even have his masterpiece fully prepared at this stage...

The hand directing his chin caused sky blues to snap open suddenly, and a look of pure rage and affront to flash lightning fast over his features before settling into his usual proud scowl. He’d gotten quite used to the other touches so far, had seriously enjoyed the nail on scalp action, so this one was a little jarring. But he tensed his features as Kakuzu wiped his face to try and retain some dignity. Last thing he needed was for a fellow Akatsuki member to see not only that he’d been briefly panicked, but his soft face squidging all over under his ministrations. He’d never recover from it.   

❝Gee, thanks...❞ He grumbled when that came to an end, sort of regretting it’d be over once his hair was all rinsed out. Not that he expected Kakuzu to indulge him excessively, especially since it seemed he had a whole agenda planned out. It’d probably do him some good... he couldn’t stand that level stasis again. Blinking away the water clinging to his lashes, Deidara’s eyes remained heavy-lidded until he chanced a glance up at Kakuzu, who appeared to be observing him. His heart started to beat a little faster then, and the mouth on his chest shifted. It almost seemed to curl at the corners where the stitches didn’t quite reach.

He snapped away his gaze, and leaned against the outer side of the tub, then the inner. His ass had stuck to the bottom of it. Not that he was going to mention it.

❝It’s not like I really give a damn about my looks, mm.❞ For some reason he couldn’t say, he felt the need to assert the fact, now that he felt a little better. ❝But it’s just plain embarrassing to be all gross and stinky. So... thanks.❞

[claygobs]

Additional thoughts on Iwagakure’s Kinjutsu:

As mentioned here, the kinjutsu is actually a summoning contract with a demonic entity (name tba), which is the chief reason it was ruled as forbidden.

The demon is a fleshy amalgamation of mouths and ineffective limbs. Think a giant, amorphous meat-slug composed entirely of mouths. Yes, Deidara saw it.

It requires the user’s blood as part of the jutsu, which in turn seals the contract between the user and the demon. Deidara did not research this aspect very thoroughly, blinded as he was by the desire to make his art all the more personal to himself.

Although the fusion of the demon’s mouths to the user’s body could be considered a possession of sorts, the two consciousnesses remain separate. The creature has no effect on Deidara’s personality, it doesn’t exactly communicate with him and allows him complete control of the mouths, however there are occasions when involuntary movements/murmuring/gnashing of teeth occurs. This is most applicable to the larger, more monstrous mouth on his chest.

The threads were a contribution by Kakuzu to keep the mouth under control as a result of it generally being more unruly than the hand mouths. The marking in itself was branded onto him when he made the contract with the demon, and could be classed as a juinjutsu of the demon’s casting.

The demon chooses the most fitting location on the body at the time of being summoned; for Deidara, as a passionate artist, his hands and his heart were the sites it deemed most appropriate.

Of course, it isn’t only Explosion chakra that can be moulded into the chosen material; Deidara’s ordinary chakra is also infused into the sculptures to enable their movement and changes in size.

While Deidara was intent on getting at least one of his original hands back in order for Kakuzu to reattach it, what he didn’t realise until it happened was that he can have a completely new hand attached, and the possession will still apply to the new appendage once it becomes part of his body.

A user of this kinjutsu won’t be allowed to die if the demon doesn’t will it. Normally it wouldn’t mind ridding itself of a user, however Deidara’s commitment to fleeting art and his full intent to die with his final move made it extra amusing not to allow it.

[claygobs]

OwO hewwo??

[ anons ] || [ always accepting ]

❝Hewwo dere mystewy fwiend!❞

❝Wanna see some awt?❞

[claygobs]

Growing up:

Deidara was born to a young couple in Iwagakure during the Third Shinobi World War. His father was in fact of the nomadic Namikaze clan, who originally claimed heritage in the Land of Lightning, and had simply settled in Iwa with his sweetheart—so when it turned out that their newborn baby crackled with natural Lightning affinity, it wasn’t a huge shock to them (haha).

Explosion Release, on the other hand, came as a shade more of a surprise when they discovered it mere months later—and it was one they wouldn’t have the luxury of being surprised by for very long.

With his first art project officially completed, but no fridge to stick it on, Deidara was scooped up from the rubble by the jōnin who came to investigate the mushroom cloud that had just billowed up from the residential district. Thinking it was an enemy attack, they were surprised to find nothing but a blond baby boy there, and knowing immediately what must have happened, he was brought to the Tsuchikage.

Explosion Release is relatively uncommon, and specific not so much to a clan as it is to shinobi of mainly Land of Earth heritage in general. It is hailed as a source of national pride, and so there was bias in Deidara’s favour that an ordinary orphan may not have been afforded when Ōnoki decided to fund a fairly decent upbringing for him—almost but not quite considering him to be like another grandson to him, given he already had Kurotsuchi who was of a similar age.

Of course, this still wasn’t out of any particular altruism on Ōnoki’s part. No, he already had big plans for Deidara, which was to enlist him into the Explosion Corps. as soon as possible. The boy was incredibly gifted, as it turned out, and despite being a troublemaker of the highest order—much too whimsical and preoccupied with his ‘art’ for the liking of the stoic Stone shinobi—he was deemed ready to join the Corps. by the age of eight.

And Deidara? He loved his job. Well, he loved the part with the explosions—not so much the stuffy superiors trying to cramp his creativity constantly, and barking orders at him. He didn’t like that there was little finesse to what they did, and how they ridiculed him for his artistic inclinations. They had absolutely no style.

It was after around two years of being in the Explosion Corps. and feeling ever more dissatisfied that Deidara began to nose into the rich history of the unit, and found out about a certain kinjutsu that had been handed down through generations—one that would allow the user to knead their chakra into materials. Of course, this gave him a grand vision: the clay sculptures he so enjoyed making, the unexpected thrill he felt when they would explode in the kiln, his Explosion Release…

He knew he must have this kinjutsu.

Long story short, the crafty lad found where it was being stashed. But when he opened that scroll and wove the forbidden hand seals documented within, it would only be seconds before the result would have him questioning briefly: is this really worth it???

Unknown to him, and not at all described in the texts he’d read, the kinjutsu was in itself an uncommon strain of Summoning Technique—except rather than an animal, this one summoned a demon. And rather than just ‘summoning’, it was more like ‘signing an immediate and irreversible contract with’. And rather than appearing by his side to assist him, this demon invited itself to inhabit his body as part of the deal.

But not before appearing before him briefly in a fleshy, many-limbed mass pocked with hundreds of mouths, all bearing gnashing teeth and undulating tongues. 

This was the beast that fused with him as a result of casting the kinjutsu, and granted him with chakra-kneading ability in exchange for inhabiting his body, giving him three new mouths as a visible reminder alongside being the very tools of his newly elevated craft. One mouth in each palm, and a huge maw that split one side of his chest wide, the latter was kept shut only by the seal-like marking that would keep it that way until Deidara himself willed it—or rather, until he figured out a technique of such artistry that required it.

Needless to say, his regret and fear didn’t last long after the disturbing and grisly experience of having body parts merge and accommodate to the demon came to an end. 

Not when he then went on to mould Explosion chakra into clay for the first time, sculpting the material into a bird which, upon soaring into the sky, detonated most gloriously, all the more beautiful for what it had fleetingly been. So beside himself was he, so buzzing with excitement, that the bird became but one sample of a brand new portfolio that would see Iwagakure full of craters within mere hours… and Deidara soaring off into the distance, free of all those unimaginative losers, never once looking back.

[quotemadness]

The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation.

Auguste Rodin (via quotemadness)

[claygobs]

@soldierunderfire replied to your post “deidara your cock is enormous”

"Probably" have you seen Kazu?

❝Yeah, I have.❞

Grinning evilly, he holds up a single illustrative pinkie.