#fuck the police and judicial system

[bijoumikhawal]

I was listening to someone talking about how much she doesn't like South Korea's privacy laws when it comes to criminals and it abruptly hit me that she doesn't like them because she's a true crime creator (yes I watch garbage sometimes)

#cipher talk #The thing is there's a lot of net benefits to not publicizing a person accused of a crimes info until they've been convicted abd served #(To my understanding at least some criminals have their name and what they did made public upon release) #Like it helps prevent people glorifying them. It cuts back on media sensationalism. It protects their families from discrimination #(A lot of families of well known criminals face harassment its a global issue) #If they're innocent it prevents their name from being slandered #It helps cut down on extra judicial punishment #There are a LOT of fucked up things about how crime and law work in South Korea. This is not one of those things! #In general it's become very keen to me that most true crime people understand NOTHING about human rights #Because they dont get that the prison system is actually horrible and end up wanting things to be worse #Or they do understand that but don't care #'Actually because a suspect can force you to get them food during an interrogation they hold power' You Don't Know Shit About Interrogation #Suspects may do that to /feel/ powerful because they ARENT powerful in that situation #The police may want information but ultimately that doesn't bend them to the whim of a prisoner

[chidoknowshit]

Made the mistake of watching one episode of FBI International, lucky me the episode was also set in Italy.

Next time I'm gonna brain myself against the wall, it's going to be less painful

#jesus fucking christ i am the first to rail against our police and judicial system #there's so much bad shit going on over here i can't even begin to list them #but holy shit not the americans talking shit about that #not the fucking americans

[ereardon]

That Summer Part Ten [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Synopsis: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst, alcohol, smut, police

Chapter summary: Y/N and Bradley deal with the aftermath of the debutant ball; the two spend their last night together

Wordcount: 3.2K

Series masterlist here; Part Nine here

A large figure stepped forward, casting a shadow from the lights and blocking part of your view. “Get out.” 

Pierce frowned. “What?” 

You recognized the shadow. Your father nodded at Bradley before grabbing the back of Pierce’s tux near the neck like he was a kitten getting dragged around by its mother. “You fucking lay a hand on my daughter ever again and I’ll make sure you’re in jail. Now get the fuck out of here.” He practically tossed Pierce toward his parents. 

The room felt like it was spinning. Even the band had stopped playing. It was just you, wearing a stupid white dress, staring at the mess in front of you. 

Your father watched as Pierce’s parents ushered him off toward the door at the side of the room. His eyes were raging when he turned to you. “Pumpkin,” he said quietly, one hand between your shoulders, “time to go.” 

“But–”

“No buts,” he said. “Bradley, come on, you too.” 

You hung your head as your father escorted you off the dance floor toward the door that Pierce and his parents had just exited out of. Bradley was on your heels. Even from a room away, you could feel your mother’s stare boring holes into the back of your dress. You were shocked the material didn’t just singe and fall right off, leaving you naked in the middle of the dance floor. Not that being naked would change how embarrassing this all was. 

“Daddy, I–” 

Your father shook his head. “Not now, Y/N. We’ll meet you two at home.” 

You nodded. Bradley’s brown eyes flicked to yours and he tipped his head. You followed him out to the car, sliding into the passenger seat, head pressed back against the headrest. “What the fuck just happened?” 

Bradley turned the key in the ignition. “Exactly what was always bound to happen, Birdy. I ruined it. I ruined everything.” 

“No.” You turned to look at him. Bradley’s hands were gripping the wheel tightly. “Bradley, stop it. This wasn’t your fault. This was Pierce. That mangy little shit.” 

He shook his head. “It was me. If you had just gone to the dance with someone else, someone who was an actual match, this would never have happened.” 

“I’m glad it happened,” you said and Bradley’s open mouth was caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Surprise. Shock. “Seriously. Fuck them, fuck all of them. I never realized how fucked all of this was until you got here. If they can’t accept one outsider, what is this all?” 

Bradley sighed. “It’s always going to be like this, Birdy. They know it. I know it. When are you going to realize that you can’t fix it?” 

You closed your eyes. “I have to try,” you whispered. “I might not be able to fix it. But I have to try. Because if it comes down to you or them, it’s you, Bradley. It’s always going to be you.” 

Bradley gripped the steering wheel so hard he thought it might burst into flames or disintegrate into powder. He loved you enough that it hurt. 

Knowing that one day, soon, it was going to all come crashing down. That the two of you existed in just a small slice of time. That there was no going forward and no going back. It was here, now, and that was it. 

Everything else was just white space. 

***

Back at the house, all of the lights were off except the ones in your father’s study. 

“Y/N.” His voice boomed as you and Bradley slipped through the front door. You stood with your heels dangling from your fingertips. “Come inside.” 

You ducked your head, walking toward the study. Bradley shifted toward the stairs and your father’s voice caught him. 

“Bradley. Stay down here, please. I want to talk to you next.” 

The study was cold and you found yourself shivering as you sat down on the dimpled leather couch across from your parents. Your mother’s face was stoic. Cold. 

“Y/N,” your father said, standing next to the chair your mother sat in, his hand loosely gripping a rocks glass. “Tell me the truth. Is there something going on between you and Bradley?” 

“We’re friends.” 

“Friends?” 

You nodded. “He’s my friend. You said to be a good neighbor and that’s what I’m doing.” 

Your mother scoffed. “Daniel. She’s lying. Look at her.” 

Your palms started to sweat. “Mama, I–” 

“Mama.” She shook her head in disgust. “You only do that when you’re in trouble. And you’re in trouble, Y/N, if you’ve even thought about crossing the line with that boy.” 

“Evelyn.” Her name on your father’s lips made her clam up. “Let Y/N tell us her side of the story.” 

Both sets of eyes turned to you. You felt heavy under their gaze. “There’s no story. Pierce has liked me for years but I’m not interested in him. He got jealous that I said I’d go with anyone else, and he was drunk. That’s it, that’s the only thing that happened.” 

Your mother squinted. “Tell us the truth. Have you fooled around with that boy?” 

Bradley, you wanted to say. His name is Bradley. Instead, you lied. “No.”

“Are you sure?” 

Your father interrupted. “She answered your question, Evelyn. Let’s trust her answer.” He looked at you and shook his head. “Go to bed, Y/N. It’s been a long day. We can talk more tomorrow.” 

You nodded and stood up, reaching for the door. 

“Send Bradley in,” he added. “You and your mother can go to bed.” 

Your mother followed you out the door. Bradley looked up from the darkened foyer and you nodded. He skimmed past you, hand just barely brushing the skirt of your dress. Your father closed the door behind the two of them, plunging you and your mother into darkness. 

She turned on a light that illuminated the staircase and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I hope you’re telling us the truth,” she said quietly, “or else you’re going to send this family into ruin.”

And then she was gone, disappearing down the hallway. You watched her go before climbing the stairs. It felt like you were climbing toward purgatory. 

***

Bradley hated your father’s study. It felt like a mafia boss scene from a movie. Dark leather sofas, bar cart, the wooden built-in shelves everywhere you looked. 

And then your father, standing by the empty fireplace, scotch in hand, mouth tied in a tight line. 

“I’d like for you to tell me your side of the story, son. From the beginning.” 

Bradley took a deep breath. He couldn’t screw this up. He couldn’t let it all crumble. 

Once he was done, your father rattled the glass in his hand and sat down on the couch opposite Bradley. He lifted his gaze until his eyes were locked on Bradley’s brown ones. “I’m only going to ask this one time. Are you in love with my daughter?” 

Bradley felt the air in the room freeze despite the August heat. Sweat dotted his hairline. He pressed his fingers into the fabric of his dress pants. 

What could he say? Admit that he loved you. That you were the only person who made life worth living. Explain that you had changed absolutely everything for him. That he would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe. That one look from you could turn his entire mood around. 

But admitting that he loved you would be signing the death warrant on your relationship. And if he vowed to never hurt you, to keep you safe, to love you for the rest of his days, he couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell anyone, but you. 

So he had to lie. And hope that it would suffice. Even if the hiding felt like the worst lie he had ever told. Even if it broke him. 

Bradley shook his head. “No, sir, I’m not. We’re friends, that’s all. I would never violate your trust like that. You took me in, and I’m extremely grateful. To you, and Mrs. Sullivan, and Y/N.” 

Your father took a sip of his drink, never blinking. Once he set it down, he nodded. Bradley let out a sharp breath. “She’s the only thing I have,” he said, “that is worth anything. One day you’ll have a daughter and you’ll know. It’s your job to protect her. Keep her safe. Make sure she does everything right. Everything you failed to do correctly the first time. Make sure she finds a man who loves her and treats her right. Watch her start a family of her own. Know that no matter what you’ve done, no matter what you failed at, she turned out alright. Your children are just your heart, walking outside of your body, Bradley. You sign it away the day they’re born and you never get it back. Y/N, she’s my heart. And it’s my job to protect her, no matter what.”

“I understand, sir.” 

He stood up and Bradley followed suit. “You protected my heart tonight,” your father added, softer this time. He placed one hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “I’m grateful.” 

Bradley nodded. 

“Goodnight, son,” he said, walking Bradley to the door. “Do me a favor? Watch out for her. She’s not as strong as she thinks she is.” 

And then he shut the door and Bradley was alone in the foyer once again. He looked up the long stairwell toward the second floor. How many more nights did he have in this house? How many more nights did he have with you? As Bradley climbed the stairs, slowly, anxiously, he felt a pull. It was the knowledge that you were up there, waiting for him. That you were the one who could set him free. 

You turned as Bradley nudged the door open. Just your head creaked around as you sat on the edge of the bed facing the window and the water below, white silky dress fanned out around your hips, white satin gloves still suctioned to your hands and arms. 

“Did he?” 

Bradley shook his head and you let out a sigh of relief, hanging your head. He crossed the room, standing above you. “Birdy?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too.” You frowned. 

Bradley sucked in a deep breath. “But I don’t think this is fair to you.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble, Y/N,” Bradley said softly. “I’m not worth it.” 

You stood up, placing one hand on each of his cheeks. “Yes, you are. Don’t say that you’re not.” 

He tried to shake his head and you held him sternly. “I don’t care if this all blows up in my face. It’s worth it. You’re worth it.” 

“What could you possibly see in me?” he asked. 

“I see you.”

“That can’t be enough.” His voice was thin. Barely a whisper. 

“Bradley.” He raised his eyes to look at you. “When are you going to realize that you’re absolutely enough?” 

And then your lips were on his. He tasted like rum and sadness and you wanted to wrap him up tightly, make sure he knew you would never let him go. 

You pulled away, turning around slowly. “Unzip me.” 

It was slow. Like you had all the time in the world. Wordlessly you let Bradley unzip your dress. Your eyes never left his as you stepped out of the white silk, letting it pool on the floor, standing in front of him in only a pair of panties and your silk gloves. 

He let you slide off his bowtie, unbutton the stiff white buttons of his shirt, unzip his pants, lead him to the bed quietly. 

You whimpered softly as Bradley traced the lines of your body with his fingertips before pressing inside of you, breaking you open, claiming you as his own. It was just him, filling you, over and over, his lips on yours, his moans bleeding into your own, and the two of you were a tangle of limbs and sighs and shudders until everything was still. 

After, you lay wrapped in his arms, the sweat on your skin cooling from the air flowing through the fan. You tipped your head to the side and looked up at him. “Do you think your mom knows about us?” you asked softly. 

“I do,” Bradley replied. 

“Would she be happy that we’re together?” 

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, nestling his lips close to your temple. “You were the one thing that has always been missing. She would know that in a heartbeat.” 

You fell asleep, held together by Bradley’s embrace. 

In the morning, with the sunlight streaming in on your face, you sat up. 

The bed was empty. And for a fleeting moment, you realized what it would be like to lose him. 

For a moment, you thought maybe it had all been a dream. 

***

You got sloppy. That was the first thing you thought when it all fell apart. 

All summer you had been careful to click the lock on your door. Make sure you and Bradley didn’t hold lingering gazes in front of your parents. 

You never saw the shadow shifting behind the windows as darkness spilled around the house. You never once stopped to think that Louise had seen you.

The second thought you had was that you didn’t even know who you were anymore without Bradley. 

That without him, you might not be able to survive. 

***

The water was cold as it rushed over your limbs. You laughed. A true, genuine laugh. Head tipped back, hair slipping down beneath the inky surface of the ocean. When you looked up, Bradley was smiling at you, his teeth seemingly brighter from the light of the full moon. 

“You look happy,” he said. 

You swam over to him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “I am.” 

“Good,” he whispered. “I like seeing you happy.” 

Your thumb slid down his cheek. “I never realized until you came along that I wasn’t actually happy. I was complacent.” 

“But now?” 

“Now,” you murmured, “I really am happy.” 

He smiled and you inched closer, sealing your lips over his, feeling the waterline bob around your shoulders, brushing against your jaw as Bradley’s hands held onto your waist. “Let’s go inside,” he said softly. 

You untangled yourself, dashing out toward shore, grabbing your clothes from the beach, shaking out the sand. “I’ll race you.” 

Bradley took off, long limbs taking him further, and you laughed, the sound echoing out against the sand dunes, as the two of you rushed toward the house. Your wet footsteps marked the side stairs, the living room, trailing up the stairs toward your bedroom. 

You could barely peel yourself off of Bradley long enough to shower. He chuckled when you pulled him in under the stream of water, running your fingers through his hair, spreading shampoo along his hairline, massaging it in softly. 

Bradley held you carefully as the two of you tripped back toward the bed. You held in quiet moans as Bradley parted between your legs, licking through your folds, his tongue dancing on your clit, causing you to see stars as you vibrated on the bed. 

He grunted as you hiked your leg over his hip, pulling him in close as his cock plunged deep inside of you, his lips pressed against yours, swallowing your moans. 

Your fingertips dragged down his back, clawing at him, bringing him closer, hips rising off of the bed to meet his thrusts. 

You leaned back, Bradley’s brown eyes finding yours. You watched as he broke apart, holding him close as he collapsed on your chest, crying out as you came around his stilled cock, walls pulsating as you held him gently, afraid to let him go. 

The two of you didn’t even bother to clean up. Instead, you simply pulled the thin sheet over your sweaty bodies, Bradley opening his arms and letting you sink down against him. 

“What if we stayed like this forever?” you whispered. 

“Still wouldn’t be long enough,” Bradley murmured, fingers stroking softly down your bare arm. 

“Come with me,” you said, turning to him. “To California.” 

“And do what?” 

“Anything. Whatever you want to do. I just can’t lose you.” 

Bradley threaded his fingers in yours, the coolness of his mother’s wedding on your finger brushing against his skin. “I can’t lose you either, Birdy.” 

“So will you come with me?” 

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come.” 

You grinned, rolling over, kissing him again. He was warm and familiar and you wondered how you had ever lived without knowing Bradley Bradshaw. 

Bradley smiled, lips pulling up at the corners, your smaller hands warm against his bare skin. He was going home. 

And this time, he would take you with him. 

***

It took you a moment to register what was happening. 

One moment you were asleep, peacefully, in Bradley’s arms. 

The next moment there was a barrage of noise and lights and chaos. You felt hands on your arms, someone dragging you to standing, forcing you into a robe, the bright overhead lights burning your eyes. 

When you opened them, it was hell. 

Your mother’s hands pushing, hard, against your skin, tightening the robe around your bare body. Your father, standing in the doorway, eyes hard, as he supervised a cop, the same one who had arrived that first night with Bradley, carting him away. 

You watched in horror as the police officer dragged Bradley from the bed, his bare limbs dragging on the ground as he turned around, one arm outstretched. 

Reaching for you. 

You lurched from your mother’s grasp, running to Bradley, circling your arms around his neck, clinging for dear life. 

“Stop, stop!” you screamed but they were already peeling you two apart, your father’s hands prying your fingers off of Bradley’s skin, holding you back. 

“It’s OK,” Bradley said softly, his eyes glued to yours as the police officer tossed clothes at him, twisting his arm around his back, “Birdy, it’s OK. Let me go. I promise it’ll be OK.” 

“No.” You shook your head, tears swelling in your eyes like the tide at dawn. 

“It’ll be alright,” he said as the cop placed one hand on the back of Bradley’s head, turning him, pushing him out into the hallway. “I’ll see you soon.” 

"Stop it!" you yelled. "Where are you taking him? Bradley! Bradley!"

You screamed. And screamed. The scream never ended. Not as they carted Bradley outside. Not when you collapsed at your father’s feet in a pool of tears. Not when you heard the door close or the police car drive off. 

You screamed until there was nothing left. Until the only thing you could hear was Bradley’s voice in the back of your mind, like a ghost. 

Something that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter of this series! Next chapter we'll pick up from where the series started, approximately 12 years later.

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[theotherpacman]

look I think death note is a really poignant satire of the japanese justice system.

(im not japanese but i am american so. im not saying the japanese justice system is worse than my country's or anything)

japan has one of the lowest homicide rates in the world, and one of the reasons for that is because homicides aren't fucking reported as homicides. they're reported as heart attacks or suicides, because the japanese police just want to say that they have a low murder rate and a high solve rate for murder cases: on a personal level they want good numbers so they can get promoted, but on a societal level they want the police to remain the good guys in the eyes of the public. and that's light. "heart attacks" and "suicides" and "accidents" all actually murders, covered up to uphold the societal ideal of the law as the ultimate good.

in japan, 99% of people charged with crimes are convicted. innocent people falsely accused are put under enormous pressure to confess, at which point they often crack under the pressure and accept conviction. and that's L. he put a lot into the theory that light was the culprit even when he had nothing to go on and indeed evidence to the contrary, because he had no other suspects. and remember when he fucking had misa tortured ????? bound standing up with her eyes covered even when it couldn't have been clearer that they weren't going to get a confession out of her and it had been weeks? and he kept it up pretty much solely because he was too proud to admit that he had been wrong, or at least that this wasn't working.

in that way, light is the corrupt police force, and L is the corrupt judicial system. together they make the system of justice, but do either of them actually believe in that? they say they do, but light's "justice" is deference to the law, or rather, the status quo that the law represents; L's "justice" is having someone in prison, someone to blame, and the same perpetuation of the status quo. ideally they'd be able to keep each other in check - the police to arrest a corrupt judge, the court to convict a corrupt officer - but they're really exactly the same. light killed lind l. tailor, but L is the one who sent him to die.

it isn't 1:1 allegorical but it doesn't have to be. it's a thought-provoking and scathing criticism of what the japanese government calls justice. I think it's solid social commentary

#anyone wanna talk about this? it's interesting stuff and I'm really just repeating/building off of stuff other people have said #death note #media analysis #social commentary #political commentary #social criticism #death note analysis #l lawliet #light yagami #japanese government #japanese politics #police corruption #judicial system #acab

[txttletale]

wanted 2 ask u cuz i think u know more than me:

most of the acab / police aboltion stuff i see is based on the US system, backed up with US stats and events, and suggesting changes to the US policing system.

but a lot of the proposed changes i see are similar (i think?) to what we currently have in the UK, and the power imbalance and training issues and violence are much worse in the US (but not absent here obvs). while the institution is still racist. but I'm wary of the usual 'it doesn't happen here' response that ppl usually employ to dismiss movements like BLM in the UK.

how much of acab rhetoric applies here, and how should we adapt the plans for reform for the UK policing system?

i mean the USA is definitely an outlier in terms of police and prison violence but this is broadly a quantitative rather than qualitative difference. i assure you that the police in the UK are just as horrifically racist and violent--they're just not as armed and don't have the same amount of political capital as the far more militarized USAmerican police.

the Metropolitan Police's own report (lol) found them to be 'institutionally racist'. police in the UK have fucking absurd powers, such as being permitted to commit any crime while undercover without judicial review, as long as it's in the interests of 'national security' or 'preventing disorder' or 'protecting the economic well-being of the United Kingdom' (!). they are relentlessly and disproportionately violent towards BAME people. they have a systemic culture of violence and brutality. Bristol police tased their own race relations advisor, twice. when a woman, sarah everard, was raped and murdered by a police officer, police suppressed and brutalized protesters at her vigil.

here are stop and search statistics for the UK police in 2021:

the UK policing system is just as racist and just as much of an oppressive apparatus as the USAmerican one. don't trust anyone from the UK who tries to tell you otherwise. all cops are bastards because the institution of policing under capitalism exists first and foremost to protect capitalist property relations.

obviously the demands of BLM protesters in the USA cannot be adapted 1-for-1 to the UK, and as a revolutionary communist i think there are very hard limits to what can be meaningfully accomplished under liberal democracy. but i think a good place to start if you want achievable short-term reform to happen is relentless protest and action against the recent bills that have expanded police powers more than ever, against the Blair-era counterterrorism legislation, for the abolition of the Met Police, and for justice for victims of police brutality.

Because the state arose from the need to hold class antagonisms in check, but because it arose, at the same time, in the midst of the conflict of these classes, it is, as a rule, the state of the most powerful, economically dominant class, which, through the medium of the state, becomes also the politically dominant class, and thus acquires new means of holding down and exploiting the oppressed class […] This public power exists in every state; it consists not merely of armed men but also of material adjuncts, prisons, and institutions of coercion of all kinds

— Engels, The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State

#ask #police brutality cw #this is not an area of expertise for me but i wanted to try and at least put rest to some of the #misconceptions that people hacve about the UK police

[controlban]

some atsv thoughts...

i was a year older than miles when i saw the first movie when it came out. now the second movie has come out, and im 20, but its not my fault the sequel took nearly 5 years to release. ageing up is fine and exists for situations like these where a piece of media didnt maturate properly with its initial fanbase, and thus didnt allow for them to naturally grow in tandem. that's literally part of what fandom/fanfiction is for. fandom and fanfiction are for people to expand on their favourite piece of media and remake it into how they want it to be. the same thing happened with mcu!peter parker. i was abt 1-2 years younger than peter parker when homecoming came out, and i was 2-3 years older than him when no way home released.

whatever happened to just judging silently, and moving on with ur day? why are people being so mean and exclusive now?

obvi ped0s are fucking vile, but no one's being a ped0 here. go find ur common sense and thinking skills.

and i bet the same ppl who are being so weird abt this fandom rn are the same ones who think the movie has copaganda... what??? tell me ur a spiderman/marvel tourist without telling me ur a tourist, smh.

this movie uses typical spiderman tropes, and makes a meta analysis of miles morales as a character and whether or not he deserves to even be spiderman. the movie uses this as a narrative device. one of the core elements of spiderman is parental figure death/trauma, his/her relationship to the police/the city (often times by way of the police chief to represent all of the police, and/or by way of the media to represent public perception of spiderman, ie.: hero vs menace).

if we wanna only talk about movies, then all 3 live action series of spiderman have done the exact same thing. the comics do it even more.

but these ppl just watch movie, see ‘cop not intrinsically bad in this one’ and go ‘hey guys, this is bad right? am i right? please agree. when are we going to do something about it’. it feels like a very uninformed and performative analysis and reaction. and its always the people who aren't the ones being affected by police/police brutality that seem to put on the biggest show about supposed copaganda. how about you do something about the very real problems happening in the real world if you're worried abt copaganda? because i'll bet every dollar i have that every person that was bird calling on twitter abt atsv never set foot anywhere near any of the many protests that happened this year for the lives of those lost to the unjust american judicial system in just this year alone.

there are ways to consume media while also being smart. stop letting twitter raise u. you don't have to constantly perform for everyone to prove you're a good, socially-conscious person.

twist your head back on.

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv x reader #miles morales x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spiderverse

[festeringfae]

Soooooooo mad that Ace Attorney: Apollo Justice introduces the concept of judicial reform when by the time the original trilogy is over, all these characters have been so thoroughly fucked by the legal system that they're not only primed for abolition, they would probably wouldn't be opposed to burning the relevant buildings to the ground. Maya Fey has been falsely accused God knows how many times, has had to stumble across her sister's corpse because the local legal community repeatedly decided it wasn't worth risking their professional reputations to stop a blatantly dangerous and incompetent individual, and now that same legal community is sending the only person within it who cared about this fumble to jail (or possibly death), even though he already died once via trying to carry out justice through that very same the system.

Phoenix only joined the legal system to rescue Miles from it, the system that frames cases as having a "winner" and "loser," thus creating the mindset that rewarded Manfred Von Karma's behavior. Miles spends Game 2 babbling that crap about finding the truth that is no way supported by the system (likely huffing copium tbh) but regardless, by the time Game 3 rolls around, even he accepts that he will have to commit fraud in order for justice to be served, aided and abetted by Franziska. And they get away with it super easily, because the system is as incompetent as it is inherently, purposefully unjust.

And then AA4 has the audacity to ask us to believe a JURIST SYSTEM will help at all?

You think a JURIST SYSTEM would acquit ADRIAN ANDREWS, an unknown, mentally-ill woman, heavily implied to be sexually active, who fans of Juan and Matt would see as disloyal to both? A woman who not only cultivated the persona of "ice bitch," but followed it up with the PR mortal sin of letting her ice bitch persona crumble into tears and begging for help? You think a jurist system would acquit HER, compared to Matt "Refreshing As A Spring Breeze" Engarde? The only reason she gets acquitted in canon is because Gumshoe-- not a cop anymore-- steals from cops, and Franziska voluntarily decides to bring in the completely illegal, stolen evidence, and even THEN, they know they can't get justice from the system. They have to ask for justice from a hitman, who grants it, because even a killer for hire has more potential for morality than the legal system. Maya's rescue and Adrian's exoneration happen not because of the competency of the police system or the court system, but rather, explicitly in spite of standard legal procedures.

So YOU'RE telling ME that when Phoenix gets DISBARRED, not only does he want to get back to law, but his solution after 7 years of scheming is just...the shitty justice system already not working in the real world? REALLY? All this shit happens, and Klavier Gavin is MORE committed to being a lawyer instead of rebranding as an ACAB solo act? REALLY?!?!??

(I cannot even get into the hellscape that is Ema Skye feeling an OBLIGATION to this system in ANY CAPACITY, LET ALONE...)

"oh we made a sequel to the trilogy--" you fucked up a perfectly good narrative accidentally demonstrating why the law does not exist to keep us safe, is what you did! Look at it! It's got undermining neighborhood conflict resolution in favor of increasing the narrative support for copaganda!

#yes i am aware this is a children's video game but COME ON #that doesn't excuse ANY OF THIS #ya ruined my fantasy of ppl trapped in a parody of legal systems who all (correctly) hate it!!! #NEITHER PHOENIX NOR FRANZISKA HAVE EVER DEMONSTRATED THE LEAST BIT OF ENJOYMENT OR APTITUDE FOR THE ACTUAL JOB PARTS OF THEIR JOBS. #do not get me started on Interpol. #a rant for no one but me as i procrastinate #franziska would order a hit on kristoff & get diplomatic immunity from maya its really that simple #simpler actually bc everyone would be like 'yeah those r whip marks but she hates phoenix so no motive COLD CASE'

[vincentpriceofficial]

on the one hand the trial of the chicago 7 is an incredibly frustrating movie that frankly depicts a lot of serious and heavy shit like police violence, judicial bias, the inherent racism of the American justice system and FBI assassinations of Black Panther members, and then tries to tie it up all nice with a bow at the end like “but don’t worry! the bad judge got in trouble and everyone clapped!” like LITERALLY it ends with everyone clapping for the good guys which is. absolutely fucking bonkers insane and NOT IN A GOOD WAY

on the other hand mark rylance is so sexy as bill kunstler it makes me feel like a rabid dog. with his combover

[routeriver]

Oh damn what's happening in Thailand?

In my last post, the law I was talking about was Section 112: Whoever defames, insults, or threatens the King, the Queen, the Heir-apparent, or the Regent, shall be punished with imprisonment of three to fifteen years. Which is pretty shitty in itself, but this law has been used against many innocent people for a long time. Not only do you get sent to jail, but you could have been tortured, forced to seek refuge, or even sentenced to death.

A 14-year-old girl has been charged with Section 112. It started when she went to a protest against this royal-insult law on October 13, 2022. After that day, police showed up at her house twice. The first time they told her parents that she had a problem and they needed to take her to a shrink, the second time they went to her house, they said, "If you have a kid like this, you better kill yourself." On the third attempt police went to her school, demanding that the school send her to them, and of course they refused because she's a fucking child.

This January, a guy filed a complaint against her on charges of 112 for attending the October 13 protest. And in February, the same guy filed more complaints against her for reading a statement in front of the UN office in which she mentioned the royal family on February 18, 2023. The police issued a summons for her, but she had to postpone it to April because of school and stuff (she had to do a high school entrance exam). But the police decided to go to the juvenile court for an arrest warrant. This makes her the youngest person to have been accused under Section 112.

They did go to court, and she refused to testify. She did not hire a lawyer, and she turned her back on the judge as a way to protest the unfairness of the judicial system. They ended up taking her into custody for 30 days and then sending her to juvie hall. Oh, and the guy who reported her threatened to kill her on a Facebook livestream, and he filed even more complaints against her because he couldn't prove it was her.

So many things are happening in Thailand right now. The election is this Saturday, and there have already been foul plays and vote frauds. I personally believe this election will end in a coup d'etat by the same people who did it eight years ago. This country sucks.

#thank you for the ask!! #jrrasks #sorry if this is too long i'm so pissed right now

[generalfoolish]

Hold on Loosely

Summary: In which Vigilante is disgusted with you.

Pairing: Vigilante (Adrian Chase) x GN!Reader

Warnings: *All of my works are M for mature so 18+ please; language, language, language, canon typical violence, sexual themes, canon-typical violence, gun violence, gun wounds, gore descriptions

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: @peacemakernet EVENT 02: once more, with feeling!

Master List | Tag List Form |

You walked down the darkened road, swinging your arms loosely by your side. For an onlooker, you might have seemed nonchalant, relaxed even, but you were tense and ready. Despite your training, the service that had broken you down and rebuilt you, you were often at ease. Living in a smaller town had helped that, of course. 

Gotham, Metropolis, and New York had frayed your nerves, left you raw and aching for a slower pace. You had hopped in your shitty, old beater and driven until it had broken down–clear across the United States. Evergreen, Washington had endless perks for someone like you. Low crime rates, a diligent police force, and a nefarious supervillain that was inactive. Imagine being next door neighbors to a retired Joker, it was invigorating without the constant fear of getting beaten within an inch of your life every week. 

You were a decent fighter, one of your guardians had made sure of that. Your body was a finely honed weapon, should you lose your signature blade, a sleek katana. You were trained with numerous weapons though, handling your own when it came to firearms, staffs, and even throwing knives. Your fists themselves could be considered a weapon, as you’d trained in several fighting styles.

Your life hadn’t been easy. Subjected to constant training, testing, and procedures; but on the other side of it you were trying to carve a meaningful life out of the horror. The easiest path was the one that helped keep the citizens of Evergreen safe. 

The humming was a dead give away of who was quickly approaching you on the street, Vigilante. You hadn’t expected him when you settled here, quickly learning that he was quick on the trigger and possibly not sane of mind. Not that you were anyone to judge. Vigilante, however, went too far, in your eyes, and in the eyes of the American judicial system, meaning he was wanted for murder. You actively hunted murderers, so the decision was made the first time you had encountered him, you had to turn him in.

He, violently, disagreed. You were soon marked as his archnemesis, something you didn’t suspect happened a lot, and when he saw you, it was on sight. Every fight ended in a stalemate, neither of you seemingly willing to pull the last trigger, but neither of you backing down.

You dodged his first throwing star, knowing his aim well enough to know he’d pulled the throw.

“Just fuck off Vig, not really in the mood.” You called out, taunted, as his pace increased to a jog. You halted completely, keeping the streetlight on your right illuminating the road. A second star glinted by you, without you having to dodge, and you narrowed your eyes. Something was off.

“You aren’t into this, just keep going Vig.” You offered, hands resting on your hips, the urge to fall into a fighting stance creeping up your spine.

A third star was his answer, this one embedding itself in the streetlight ten feet from your shoulder. Panic began to rise in your throat, bitter and biting.

“Seriously, those are expensive, dude. Just stop.” You demanded, watching him approach.

“We have to fight. It’s fundamental.” He panted as he slowed to a stop in front of you.

“You’re out of breath?” You asked, your face pinched in confusion. You’d fought him at least once a week for months, and he’d never even huffed like he was tired. As far as you knew, the guy had unlimited stamina. 

“Happens to everyone.” He answered easily, shrugging. You didn’t buy it.

“Not you. Are you hurt?” You asked, even as you began scanning his body. His suit was mostly made up of a thick black kevlar material, which meant if he was bleeding you’d be unlikely to notice. Never hurt to check.

“Wha–No. Of course not. Are you?” He countered, stammering. He really was a shit liar.

“Vig, seriously, let me see.” You instructed, moving a step closer to him with your hands up, a move you’d use on an injured wild animal.

“Uh, no. I’m good. We should just hurry up and fight.” He told you, shrinking back from you.

“I’m not fighting you.” You replied, your tone final.

“Are you fucking kidding? I just spent the last thirty minutes looking for you, bleeding out–” He whined before you cut him off.

“I knew it! You fuck. What happened?” You asked again, eyes raking over his body, ignoring how defined it was, ignoring how thick he seemed beneath it. 

“Doesn’t matter, let’s just fight.” He shrugged, before tensing up, his body going rigid.

“I’m not fighting you like this.” You huffed, your hands landing back on your hips.

“Scared you’ll lose?” He teased, his usual smug cadence returning for a moment.

“No, it won’t be as satisfying to kill you when you’re already half dead. I’ve seen you hit targets that were moving from much further away while you were also moving. These stars are pitiful. Are you dying?” You asked, serious.

“Maybe. Look, just punch me, and then I’ll leave.” He offered, his tone dripping with defeat. You really needed to know where he was hurt. 

“No! Not happening, Vig. Who did this to you? Are they still there?” You inquired, still searching for a tell in his stance over where he was hurt. He gave away nothing.

“It doesn’t fucking matter!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms up, grunting at the effort.

“It does!” You yelled back, not stopping to wonder why it mattered so much to you.

“Fine, they’re dead. I killed them all. Now, let’s move this along, I need to lay down.” He grumbled, placing his hand on his side, finally giving up the ruse. Gut shot, not a good area.

“You killed them? In this state?” You asked, before a movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. You squinted into the night, making out an inky figure.

“Well, I–” You saw the man in the ski mask aim, and were moving before you realized, positioning yourself between the bullet and Vigilante. You had returned fire, dropping the man, before the pain hit you. The impact of the hit combined with the force of your own gun’s recoil pushed you against Vigilante, who managed to catch you, despite barely standing himself.

“What the fuck?” He asked, his tone indecipherable. You grunted in response, untangling yourself from his arms.

“You missed one, Vig.” You mumbled, sucking your teeth in pain, looking down at the shot on your shoulder.

“What did you do? Why the fuck?” You raised your gaze to his visor, trying to figure out what emotion he was throwing at you.

“Don’t sound so disgusted that I just saved your life, dude.” You sneered, your shoulder starting to throb. 

“Oh fuck you, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to use yourself as a shield, not for me.” He yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at you. 

“Why are you so pissed? You couldn’t have taken another hit!” You cried back, the uncomfortable warmth seeping from your shoulder soaking further down into your clothes.

“You let yourself–you can’t just—what the fuck? What were you fucking thinking? What the fuck wrong with you?” He asked, and you’d had enough. Enough of his shitty attitude, enough of the pain in your shoulder, and enough with him acting like you had just done an unspeakable evil.

“With me? What’s wrong with you? You’re screaming at me for saving you!” You yelled, storming up to him, getting in his space, considering fighting him now.

“You could have died.” He answered softly, his left hand reaching out to graze your unharmed arm, as his right was pressed tightly against his stomach.

“You could have died.” You told him, your stomach twisting.

“You can’t die. Especially not for me. That’s a horrible thought. It’s literally the most disgusting thing I’ve ever had to consider.” He admitted, his gaze trained solely on the ground before you. 

“Why? No more arch nemesis?” You asked, teasingly.

“What? No, it’s because I think about you all the time. I want to see you all the time. I’m like super obsessed with you. You’re really badass, and hot. I think. I don’t actually know.” He rambled, motioning to your own mask.

“Can I look at your wound? We’re close to my house.” You ask again, softer this time, hoping he’ll agree because you’re certain you’ll need his help with your wound.

“Yeah, okay.” He agreed, reluctantly, walking in the direction of where you lived.

“You already knew that, didn’t you?” You asked, laughing lightly for the first time all night.

“Yeah.” He answered easily, shrugging. You caught up with him, and caught his free hand in yours, the weight an anchor.

tagged: @michi-reads @strawberriesandknives @uncle-eggy

@fictionlandslanddreams @uwiuwi @lostinwinderland314 @kidd3ath @aprilfire18 @zekegorilla @hypnoash

#peacemakernet #adrian chase x you #vigilante x you #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase

[ramblingdisaster73]

One thing about this season so far that I am trying to figure out is this:

Are they intentionally showing the pretty accurate representation of the US judicial & policing systems or if that is just an accidental byproduct of the storyline?

In 4x03 we see the Det. ignore all of Carlos' statements about how Iris has been working, that Iris going to that camp wasn't outside the reach of her job (iris herself indicated that as well in the hospital) and only wants to focus on the schizophrenia, not the person.

In 4x03 even after Iris is found - the Det still refuses to even think that Iris is giving a real documentation of the events - she just wants to put it on the schizophrenia.

In 4x04 we find out that the PD didn't even bother to get forensic evidence from the house, regardless of how bias the Det was.

TK, the only one in the house is the one to find a clue

Then we go to the police station - where Det still discounts everything about the victims because they had mental illness. Doesn't actually look at the evidence they have, just blames the victims & their mental illnesses.

Once again TK, makes the connection (which to be honest, should lead the Det to get a demotion at the least.) about the prescription bottles being from the same pharmacy.

The whole situation just showed how fucked the US systems are when it comes to the mentally ill & disadvantaged, especially when it comes to them disappearing.

Now, going back to 4x02 - we have a white dude refuse to pull over when ordered to do so by a cop - which would be resisting arrest.

Then we see him also refuse to listen to the advice of the FD

He is pulling his trailer with his (ex)wife - putting her in literal mortal danger & was clear that he had no intention to stop

BUT - he just gets off with a fine?

I just can’t figure out if they are being intentional in pointing out how shitty the criminal justice system is (especially for white men in Texas) in the US or if it is all a weird little accident.

#911 lone star season 4 #911 lone star spoilers #911 ls season 4 thoughts #TK Strand is the best detective in the APD

[phoebe-delia]

Okay I need to yell about something.

If you live in the United States. It is SO SO fucking important to know your rights.

I know our judicial system is corrupt and racist. I know the police can be worthless. I know there are huge systemic problems. But if you don't know what your rights are and how to use them, then no one else will help you when you're pulled over in the middle of the night—certainly not the police officer.

I'm not a lawyer. I don't claim to be, so I'm not going to be the one to tell you. But the ACLU knows a lot fucking more than I do and they've got a lot of what you need to know right here.

I cannot stress enough how important this is. Please please know your rights.

As a slight side note, John Oliver also has a wonderful video on police interrogations, and how innocent people can still be manipulated into confessing.

Stay safe out there!

#Youtube

[ptseti]

This issue had multiple levels, the primary one being the hostility of the larger community, which discriminated against a group of black Rastafarians who declared to live a "natural" lifestyle. This is the 1980s, the height of the Rasta movement, and the rest of society dislikes this lifestyle and considers it nasty and filthy. A similar incident occurred in Jamaica between the police and Rastafarians when the then-Prime Minister, a white man, ordered the police to shoot to kill. The purposeful bombing of a US town, particularly a black one, demonstrates double standards as well as the so-called judicial system, which is created for just one set of people, the black community.

There is no fvcking reason for this. 11 individuals perished, including 5 children. The lady apprehended was accused of dropping the bomb and causing the arson. She spent seven years in jail for it. That is the "Justice" that exists in LieMerika and still rears its ugly head. Trump, a fucking criminal, is running for president. If his troubles had been Barack Obama's, we all know how things would have turned out. Please gather the facts and understand that this was another example of racism against black people, even if the Mayor at the time was black. The fact that he was where he was at the time was sufficient cause for the Wyt police to behave as they did and then blame others. America is the largest fraud ever made. The sooner you all see this, the faster you will reject the oppression Our ancestors were subjected to this tyranny.

#Youtube

[scims-stuff]

Okay i’m using literally any platform I have to talk about this because it feels like very few are spreading the word.

Here in the UK, Raab is trying to pass a bill that will strip us of our legal rights and protections. It will override the Human Rights Act which has been in play since 1998, an act which has been responsible for many important things. This bill will do a lot, but my 3 main concerns is that:

It will reduce our ability to speak out against the government, which is dangerous along with the policing act

It will make it much easier to deport people, and will allow Patel’s plans to send asylum seekers to Rwanda.

It will make it essentially optional for the police to intervene in cases of human rights abuse (you read that right).

Edit: forgot to mention that it will make war crimes pretty much legal. In the aspect that people will not be able to bring the military to court for human rights violations.

If you can understand legalese please go read the whole bill, there’s more in there that worries me but i’m finding it hard to simplify it.

Here’s a breakdown of the bill that truly gets to how bad it is:

https://www.opendemocracy.net/en/bill-repeal-human-rights-act/

This is a slippery slope to fascism. We cannot let the government win on this one. As someone who’s from an immigrant family, this is legitimately scary. My granny came to this country looking for a better life for her and her son, she grew up during World War 2 in Warsaw, Poland. She saw the nazi regime first hand. She would not want her family to experience that slip into fascism. I do not want to live in a country where I worry about criticising the very government that wants people like me dead. This bill will allow the government to get away with so much more than they already have without investigation. This bill will impact everyone, but it will hurt those already fucked over my our judicial system the most.

People in the US I understand and feel your pain with the overturning of Roe v Wade, especially with what could happen next. But I am begging you please stand with us and spread the word about this.

PETITION FOR BRITISH CITIZENS/ UK RESIDENTS-non citizens/residents please don’t sign as that could jeopardise it, just boost. We need 23k more signatures to make them debate this in parliament, which has the potential to at least slow it down.

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/607712

I know we seem powerless to stop this, but talking about this and getting the word out that this is happening is better than letting it pass undetected.

#uk politics #human rights #bill of human rights #human rights act #dominic raab #immigration #free speech #fascism #war crimes