#read what our pm has said today about this. lol. lmao even (in a murderous spirit)
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I'm pro legalisation regardless so fuck what I think I guess, but it's crazy to me that "all drugs are 100% bad no matter what and no distinctions can be made between them" is still such a common way of thinking, especially when people continuously do arbitrarily decide which drugs are socially acceptable (eg alcohol) and which aren't, all while every other month there's a study on how things like psychedelic drugs can be useful for treating certain mental illnesses or disorders and shit. I mean, I understand that asking for consistency from certain individuals is useless, so I'm not surprised that a while ago people here tore their hair out at the prospect of having to put warnings on wine bottles because oUr eXcElLeNcIeS, all whilst vehemently opposing ~recreational drug use~, but like. I can't take you seriously boo lol. And there's also that tiny little problem of capillar organised crime in the whole country, which would maybe even if only a little have a harder time if we made a good choice on the matter for once, but whatever I guess
#read what our pm has said today about this. lol. lmao even (in a murderous spirit)#like... bruh... 2023 and teenagers are still getting inspected by the cops outside of school because of cannabis#don't you have actual priorities in life#mytext#rl#italy
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Twelve Hours [Ch. 1]
Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou has dealt with a lot since he was eighteen, each year bringing the same depressing challenges on the same depressing night. He expects this time to be no different, but the universe is trying desperately to prove him wrong in the most bizarre ways imaginable. So screw it, Kuroo’s only choice is to buckle in and hope he doesn’t die. Easy enough. And hey, with some new allies at his side, maybe he has a chance. Who knows? At least Kuroo is sure of one thing in life when it comes to March 15th, and he stands by this unwritten law, no matter what happens:
If you try to kill pizza delivery boys on Purge Night, you’re irrevocably a bitch.
Rating: T
Tags: Purge AU, mentions of violence but nothing graphic or too bad, no character deaths here okay, this is borderline crack and idk what I was thinking, first meetings, other characters, shenanigans and just...a lot of fun (it seems angsty but its not)
Note: I said I had a new weird au and I do not lie. This au....is so fun to write lmao I got the inspiration from a writing prompts blog (they always work wonders, I swear) and I'm so glad I actually sat down and produced this, no matter how crackish it is lol. I hope everyone enjoys! I already have 2 more chapters written so 'm going to try and be frequent with the updates (as much as I can anyways), so expect those every other week ^^ Thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over!
AO3
Sec. 175. In accordance with national law and employment regulations, no government corporations, hospitals, schools, or select businesses are to remain open on the night of the annual Purge. Should a private chain or entity choose to conduct themselves, all labor codes must be adhered to, and employees are to be compensated with a wage fifty times the normal hourly rate, as well as provided with basic equipment needed for protection. Any businesses found to be neglectful of such policies will be examined and penalized.
--
March 15, 2020
1:00 PM
6 hours until the Purge
"Shit."
A shrill, joyless tune rang through Kuroo's room, and his eyes snapped open. His first mistake of many.
The sound of his alarm and his general grogginess had him rolling right out of bed and onto the floor in his piss poor attempt to reach for the snooze button (for real, how had he fucked that up?). His limbs acted like hooks, bringing his bundle of blankets and pillows down with him.
It wasn't that different from a regular morning, in truth. The only difference was that this time, he was ashamed by how late he'd managed to sleep in.
Kuroo prided himself on being an early riser. He had his good name to defend. At this rate, even Bokuto would be up and about (or in the midst of his first nap), that log.
"Dammit," Kuroo muttered, reaching up to silence his phone. The end of the stupid ringtone didn't end Kuroo's suffering. The sun shone through his window, making him squint, and that, along with his mind beginning to power on, reeling with dates and to-do-lists, became far too much stimulation for the morning.
Er...afternoon.
Kuroo sprang up, unaware he'd collapsed the previous night in such exhaustion he hadn't been able to pull his jeans all the way off his legs.
The result? He fell face first onto his unvacuumed carpet once again, and okay, out of all the days of the year, this was not the day for him to be so clumsy. It probably hadn't been a good idea to work a double shift the day before at the pizza parlor, but there was a gaming console he really wanted (not to mention his strong desire to keep his savings growing), and he was so close to being able to afford it.
And make no mistake, Kuroo didn't like stealing, sanctioned crime or no sanctioned crime.
So he was saving up, like a high schooler or something. Oh well, it beat the alternative...
On autopilot, Kuroo fumbled for his remote, groaning as his hand touched something mushy.
Oh god. Gross. Gross and weird, what the fuck--
Clearly, some spring cleaning would be in order for tomorrow. The world ‘tomorrow’ made his heart stop for a second in fear of the unknown, but he got over himself quickly. He had to. Today he just had to.
After some deep breathing, he managed to pry his eyes open enough to find what he was looking for: the remote. Switching on the television, because that's what he did on a normal day, he couldn't help but groan at his mistake.
Routines could be his downfall at times, especially when his television automatically turned onto the news station. He should really know better by now…
This was the one day where he preferred to not watch the news while he got ready. Kuroo would've much preferred some B movies, or even better, a documentary on how to make soap.
Not caring enough to switch the set off, he threw the remote to his bed, and waited for the coverage to begin. No point avoiding it now. In the meantime, he figured he really needed a quick rinse, and a good brush through his hair (it wouldn't look any better afterwards, but it was the thought that counted).
Kuroo had to return to work by five anyways, as was policy. Even though the pizza place he worked at wouldn't start accepting orders until the start of the Purge, they had to be there to lockdown, take inventory, prepare their cars, and get their gear on.
So basically, Kuroo would have to get gas, organize his artillery, and make lunch all before then.
I want ramen...no...fried chicken.
Fuck it, he was getting paid fifty times his usual wage tonight, he could afford to treat himself to both.
The news logo flashed onto the television, gaudy and bright. On screen, two anchors sat, the countdown clock framed innocently in the upper right-hand corner.
"Good afternoon and thank you for joining us on the eve of our nation's 7th annual Purge! I sure hope everyone is excited. What should we be expecting from tonight Kudobera-san?"
Before closing the bathroom door, Kuroo glanced back, catching the far too cheery smiles of the news anchors giving their annual spiel.
"Well Takigawa-san, we expect a much higher turnout than last year. However, reports show that a lot of businesses have upgraded to new top of the line security systems. It'll be interesting to see how these changes will affect the crime rates tonight.
"But in celebrity news, idol Fuwa Reiko's Purge bash is said to have a guest list of over fifty people this year, and prizes will include..."
Kuroo rolled his eyes, grabbing the nearest bath towel, and shutting the door.
--
The Purge began when Kuroo was eighteen years old, and it was truly a terrifying and horrific time and blah, blah, blah, blah...
Yeesh.
Look. Kuroo could go on and on about the corruption and politics surrounding the Purge and how it came into being. He could then spend another few hours about how it ended up impacting him personally. His newly formed anxiety, his suppressed fears, the fact that many people he knew and met sometimes didn't survive the year.
Very grim stuff. No fun.
Tonight wasn't about any of that, and Kuroo wasn't going to waste time on detailing the Purge and all the blood-chilling and fucked up things which happened during it.
No one had time for that.
And yeah, one day Kuroo dreamed he'd be rich enough to move away from this cursed nation, safe and healthy with all his friends without the Purge looming over him every month until March rolled around.
But, it was not the time for escape quite yet, so Kuroo refused to dwell on the subjects of blood and gore. No time to reminisce over his childhood, no reason to recount his tragic backstories or feelings on the matter.
Not tonight. Maybe next year.
Tonight, he had a twelve-hour shift, and he was expecting to be paid well.
The point of all this? (Aside from the gaming anyways...) Simple. In order to one day achieve his dream, and keep himself alive until then, he needed money. Purge night, as shitty and immoral as it could be, let him earn enough money to cover three months’ worth of rent. That was without tips too.
That was his only focus.
So in short, in order to keep himself sane, Kuroo worked hard, and had no problem with diverting his internal angst into jokes at any given moment.
Liiiiike now.
Kuroo kicked open the door to Bokuto's bedroom, where he was still cuddling Akaashi against his chest. One of their infamous afternoon naps. How cute.
They were sickening. "Hello naughty children, it's murder time!"
The couple jolted awake, and while he might deny it later, Bokuto totally screamed. Kuroo smirked as Bokuto flailed on the floor, reaching for a nearby water gun to defend himself.
Given that Kuroo knew Bokuto was quite skilled with actual guns, it was a sight to see.
Akaashi glared at Kuroo from the bed, eyes full of pure, empty disgust, like Kuroo was a dead bug on the windshield of Akaashi’s life. Kuroo's joy was not deterred, and in a sudden moment of bluntness, Akaashi uttered his first sentence of the day: "Kuroo-san, I hate you."
"Is that any way to treat your best friend who woke you guys up in time for your flight?" Kuroo wiped his fake tears, gesturing to the bundle of suitcases Akaashi had packed dutifully two nights prior.
"I had an alarm set--"
"And your best friend, who made you guys lunch and drives you to the airport every year," Kuroo continued, not willing to wilt under Akaashi's piercing stare. Bokuto stayed on the floor, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes.
Kuroo could defend himself alright? Being a cunt was a defense mechanism he used so he wouldn’t just start fucking crying all over how much he loved his friends on the worst day of the year, so he was sticking with it. They knew of course, but maybe they didn’t say anything for Kuroo’s sake, and he loved them for it.
Akaashi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he channeled his inner anger management guru. Kuroo liked to poke fun at the fact that maybe Akaashi needed to purge more than anyone, but they all knew the raven abhorred violence.
Well, most of the time.
Without another word, Akaashi chucked a pillow directly at Kuroo's face (with impressive force he might add), and Bokuto became aware enough to tackle Kuroo to the ground two seconds later.
And though Kuroo whined and complained, eventually crying his surrender after Bokuto had him pinned down long enough, he couldn't help but smile at how much he cherished these moments.
Bokuto and Akaashi would only be gone for a week, but he would miss them. They always picked the time of the Purge to take their yearly vacation.
It was...better that way.
They could afford it too, being players for the national team. Bokuto got nervous and overly protective whenever the Purge rolled around, and though Akaashi wouldn't admit it, they were both scared of ever being remotely close to a situation in which they might lose each other.
So, they decided to travel to a different country every time the heinous event rolled around, one where the Purge had no weight or influence.
As Kuroo made them their pancakes and helped them with their bags, he couldn't help but doubt himself, like he did each year.
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us Kuroo, we can still get you a ticket, we can figure something out!" Bokuto's concerned look almost had Kuroo giving in. He slammed the trunk, putting Bokuto's suitcase down next to him.
The airport was never that crowded on Purge night. Guess people trust their security systems enough to not leave the county.
The couple never failed to offer Kuroo a ticket. They cared about him, didn't like the thought of him not being safe. Kuroo agreed. That's why he'd begged his family to move out of the country years ago, why he encouraged Bokuto and Akaashi to leave around this time as well.
But Kuroo...Kuroo was stubborn.
He hadn't finished school yet, and his savings weren't where he wanted them to be. When he moved, he wanted to be secure. Plus...Kuroo could be kind of dumb about these things. He got a twisted sense of pride when he survived Murder Night™ every year, even more so now that he chose to work during the event.
Yeah...that was a whole different story.
Kuroo shook his head, smiling easily. "We've been over this man, you don't have to worry about me. I refuse to die."
Akaashi curled his hand around Bokuto's before the other could begin to protest. Akaashi disagreed with Kuroo's decisions too, but he knew arguing got them nowhere. "You are like a roach."
Kuroo stumbled back, as if punched. "Ouch. I'll try to take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't."
"Akaashi."
They all laughed, and as the clock struck four, he watched them disappear into the airport, after a painful, drawn out embrace, waving at him one last time.
He smiled through his misty eyes, and couldn't help but feel relief knowing they'd be far away by 7 PM.
--
Now generally, it was pretty agreed by all that during the Purge, people shouldn't target delivery boys. Out of all the people to kill, you're gonna go after Papa John? Get fucked.
Who the hell was shitty enough to murder some sad minimum wage worker?
Well, a lot of people actually. People were cruel during the Purge, that was sorta the point. But, in Kuroo's experience, the freaks with knives and masks would often overlook him and his crappy pizza delivery uniform.
Some things were worse than death, they probably thought.
Kuroo wouldn't complain. The less trouble for him the better. While he did occasionally have to fire warning shots and rev his car at people who were a bit bolder and more bloodthirsty, he stayed fairly safe.
Or as safe as one could be, surrounded by crazed people wielding machetes. He was more than fine with ignoring the screams and explosions by turning up his stereo to inhuman levels, bottling up his inner hero.
Because in reality, Kuroo had never managed to shake his core beliefs, no matter how fucked up the system was. He was honest, valued good work ethic, respected his elders, all that jazz.
Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou was the guy who helped old ladies cross the street. Definitely not someone who should be working during the Purge. But, well, his mother always told him people would underestimate him if given the chance.
Kuroo's natural instinct was to defend, to protect. However, during the Purge, it simply wasn't practical, and he was forced to hate himself for it later.
At least he had Matsukawa and Semi to keep him company.
"Happy Murder Night, would you like to hear about our specials?" Matsukawa deadpanned as Kuroo walked through the front door of the parlor. The blast shields were already up, and the shop was technically closed. The only occupants of the booths were his fellow coworkers, the other people insane enough to be working that night.
Semi rolled his eyes, greeting Kuroo without a polite nod. He assumed Kyoutani was in the back, making breadsticks. Again, normal day, if he didn't count the various rifles and bulletproof vests spread out on the counter. Backup measures, in case somehow, the titanium doors were broken down.
Kuroo laughed, walking over to where Matsukawa sat perched behind the register, and picked up the vest with his nametag on it.
So much to do, so little time.
He clipped the vest on securely, holstering two of the guns and a knife.
"I don't know how this place stays in business," Semi muttered from where he polished the counter. "Why would people order pizza on the most dangerous night of the year?"
"You say that as if we don't get at least ten or so orders every year," Matsukawa reminded.
"Robbing and plundering does work up an appetite," Kuroo agreed.
"Like you'd know," Semi said with a snort, throwing the dirty dish rag at Kuroo's face. All this disrespect today.
"Hey, I'll have you know, I once stole a bag of chocolate coins from the discount store." Kuroo crossed his arms, his grin wide and triumphant.
Matsukawa squinted, tapping his hands on the bright red countertop. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"
"..."
"Did you cry afterwards?"
Fuck.
Kuroo said nothing, and Semi looked two seconds away from laughing his ass off. Wankers. All of them. Nothing but wankers.
"I'll take that as a yes," Matsukawa said, ducking just in time to avoid Kuroo's headlock.
It was at that moment Kyoutani made himself known, asking if Kuroo had ever done jail time for a crime so heinous.
"You've got jokes now? What's the world coming to?" Kuroo cried, falling to his knees.
"Given what day it is, should you really be asking that?" Semi said, and man, too far.
They all stared at each other, letting the dark foreboding and realization settle over them. The thoughts sprang up like they always did, violent and despair-riddled, before Kuroo defiantly squished them down.
Then, they all broke out into laughter, the kind which brought tears to the eyes.
Yeah, the Purge was fucked up, but it brought them closer together.
And honestly, grease stains or not, Kuroo was glad to wait out the Purge in the company of these assholes.
After all, it was the best he was gonna get for now.
--
Kuroo's car was geared up and ready to go.
The delivery vehicle given to them for Purge night only opened from the driver's side. The rest of the car was plated with a lightweight metal, armor essentially. The front behaved more like a battering ram than a hood, in case of extreme circumstances, like having to get through a crowd of attackers. The mirrors were shatter resistant, and the tires were as slash and puncture resistant as possible. Still, the car came equipped with a set of spares just in case.
They kept the car in a special fortified garage which was only accessible through the parlor. The garage door into the parlor locked every time it was closed, a security measure for if someone tried to break in while Kuroo was leaving for a delivery.
All in all, Kuroo felt safe at his workplace. Outside though...he didn't trust anything, and for good reason. Better safe than sorry.
After helping with food prep, checking the car's interior, and filling up the tank, hours had gone by. Looking at his clock, Kuroo's heart skipped a beat.
6:50 PM. Ten minutes until the Purge.
Dread coiled in his gut for a moment before it was gone. Kuroo never got used to this, but he knew what to expect now after seven years.
"Kuroo c'mon, time to get inside," Semi said, poking his head through the garage door. Kuroo was technically safe in the garage but...they just liked to all be together during the opening broadcasts.
Taking a deep breath, Kuroo followed after him, just in time to catch the start. The large flat screen in the dining area which usually played sports games and cheesy commercials lit up blue, the emergency broadcast text slowly beginning to scroll up the screen.
"This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by your government. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 a.m., when The Purge concludes. May God be with you all."
The classic pause.
The silence.
Kuroo never got why there had to be the brief stall before the alarms began, but he despised it. Everyone in the parlor remained stone-like as the chilling sirens began echoed in the distance. They were ghostly almost, unreal, like a thick fog no one could escape from. Sometimes, Kuroo could hear them in his dreams, and he’d wake up with two pillows pressed against his head, as if trying to block the sound.
Kuroo couldn't help but laugh bitterly to himself.
Guess the walls aren't that thick.
As the sirens began to fade, none of them moved. Yeah, it never stopped being sort of surreal. They waited for the telltale crash of store glass or gunshots in the distance, but for now, things had yet to get into full swing.
Or so they'd thought.
Life was weird and unexpected. That much Kuroo knew. But if someone had told him all the twists and turns he'd go through over the course of the next twelve hours, he would have laughed in their face.
He'd be wrong though.
Now, it wasn't abnormal for them to get orders later in the night, usually from families waiting out the Purge or from rich assholes throwing Purge parties. Kuroo didn't get it, and he didn't appreciate the calls, but it was his job.
But again, the calls normally came later. Like, much later.
So when the phone on the counter started to ring not even two minutes after the sirens stopped, only Kyoutani managed to find his voice through the shock of it.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
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