#( unholy fuckin trinity. )

[espeonseal]

horror rpgs

[crickets-must-be-enslaved]

this game has a chokehold on me please i just wanna housepost

[henriiiii-1001old]

forgot to post this for a while uh take more tmc x faith crossover au

@localvoidcat i got more juice for you eat up bitch (affectionate)

[happywitch416]

My previous post seems rather silly considering its day 2 of a massive 110+ heatwave and my power just went out. And naturally they will only communicate with the primary phone number on the account. He's in training and won't be available until 4pm.

What an absolutely cuntastic monday.

[sugartitstownley]

Yesterday Meets Tomorrow (Trikey)

Happy New Year! 🎈 Here’s a Trikey fic to kick off 2024. May this year bring you an even bigger lust and love for the Unholy Trinity + Lamar.

Prompt: Michael wakes up married to Trevor. One problem: He doesn’t know how he got there.

Warnings: It’s GTA. Explicit and sexual language, violence, all that stuff.

The first thing that hits Michael’s nose when he wakes up is the pungent, nauseating odor that he’s tried deeply to forget.

He blinks slowly, trying to adjust to the light in the room as he takes in his surroundings.

“You okay, sugar?”

Michael nearly jumps as Trevor’s voice comes from the doorway of the small trailer.

Trevor’s lips tick up in a small smirk. “What? Is that stroke we talked about coming early?”

“Bite me,” Michael growls, falling back on to the sheets, which are surprisingly clean despite the smell in the room. “What am I doing here?”

“You know I’d love to,” Trevor says. “But you’re being real fuckin’ weird right now.”

Michael sits up, shooting the man an incredulous look. “I’m being weird? That’s rich coming from you.“

“Jesus. Are you always this loving or is today just a special occasion?” Trevor huffs. “What do you need? A blowie? Or want me to eat your ass a little?”

“The fuck are you talking about? What I need is for you to tell me what’s going on!”

Trevor just stares at him, and, for a brief second, Michael thinks he sees worry flash in the other man’s eyes. “Mikey, just tell me what the issue is.”

“I don’t remember last night,” Michael says before gesturing wildly around the trailer bedroom. “I don’t know how I got here.”

At this point, Trevor looks seriously worried. “We’ve been here for the past week. You know I come back every so often to get Wade out of the skin joint and make sure Ron’s not fucking up.”

“And I came with you to the desert? Voluntarily?”

“Uh, yeah,” Trevor says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s part of the whole marriage thing. You go where I go. No getting out of it, cupcake.”

Michael pales, blinking at Trevor in confusion. “Marriage?”

“Are you sure you didn’t have a stroke?” Trevor asks, clearly just as confused at the situation.

Getting to his feet, Michael’s finally able to grasp the scene around him. Trevor’s sheets, once stained and riddled with Redwood’s, are now a clean soft blue. Porno magazines and tissues on the nightstand are replaced with a set of keys, some beer bottles, and a dusty photo of him and Trevor — the taller man’s arm strung around him, placing a kiss on his cheek, while Michael flips him off and smiles at the camera.

“I think- I think I just need to take a drive,” Michael grabs the keys off the nightstand. “Are these mine? Where’s my phone?”

Trevor looks mildly disoriented, but he obliges and grabs Michael’s phone. “You think you should be driving?”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I need,” Michael says, his words coming out stiff from the panic he feels. “The fuck is this?”

Both of them look at the phone Trevor holds out. “It’s your fuckin’ phone, Mikey. Seriously, I’m about two seconds away from either taking your ass to the hospital or chopping you up if this is some sick joke.”

Michael turns the phone over. iFruit 8. He doesn’t answer Trevor; instead, he steps around him and heads for the trailer door.

“Not even a kiss goodbye? A quickie? Nothing?”

He briefly turns to stare at Trevor, who takes two quick strides to stand in front of him. Michael watches him with intent, desperately trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding around him. He only gets to watch Trevor for a few seconds before he’s losing his balance and lips are roughly pushed against his.

Frozen in the moment, Michael’s body reacts with a shudder, a tingling sensation coursing through him as they kiss. Seconds later, he realizes what is happening and pushes the man off him.

“Trevor!”

With another huff, Michael walks out the door and to his car, which is thankfully still the same black Obey Tailgater he’s used to. Getting in the car, he speeds off down the desert road, hoping to get some Redwood’s and clear his head.

As he parks near the 24/7 mart, he heads inside and up to the guy at the counter.

“Hey, man,” Michael greets, running his hand over his face. “I need a pack of Reds.”

After grabbing the cigarettes, the cashier’s lips start to move, but Michael can no longer hear him. The man behind the counter jumps back as Michael lunges for the newspaper sitting on the counter, holding it up to get a closer look.

Jan. 1, 2018

“Is this date correct?” he questions. “Is this date fuckin’ right or what?”

“Ye-yes, sir.”

Michael backs away from the visibly frightened man, turning on his heel to leave the supermarket — the pack of Redwood’s now forgotten.

“What the fuck is going on? I’m dreaming,” he mumbles to himself as he gets back in his car. “This is a nightmare, and I’m going to wake up soon.”

Michael tries to rationalize how he ended up here otherwise, but the last thing he remembers is New Year’s Eve 2013.

Bursting into the trailer only minutes later after the short drive, Michael gets up in Trevor’s face, forcing him back against the kitchen counter. “What the fuck did you do? I don’t know how you did it or how you got everyone to play along, but you better knock this shit off right now!”

Trevor, not knowing what it’s about but clearly not liking the way Michael is screaming at him, pushes back. “Fuck you, Michael! You wake up miserable as shit, freak out, and start throwing out all these accusations! I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

Seeing Trevor’s breath coming out in pants from anger, Michael tries to keep his own voice steady and calm as he continues. “Trev… maybe I did hit my head or something. Can you just explain to me what’s happened these last couple years?”

“Years? Jesus,” Trevor grumbles.

“Just answer the fuckin’ question!”

“Fine! For starters, you finally came to your senses and divorced Amanda. That closet you’ve been hiding in got too packed with bullshit, I guess. We decided to give it a shot, got married after two years, and life’s been sunshine and rainbows ever since.”

Michael cracks a small smile at Trevor’s obvious, but amused, sarcasm. “Let’s pretend I believe you. So now we live here? How’d you convince me to do that?”

“If I wanted to convince you of anything, it wouldn’t be hard, sugar,” Trevor purrs. “But I didn’t. We don’t live here. Like I said earlier when you were being a grump this morning, we came back here for the week so I could tend to business. We’ll be back in plastic city before long. Don’t you worry.”

“I think I’ve finally gone crazy, T,” Michael sighs before he feels Trevor wrap his arms around his waist, and at this point, he’s too mentally exhausted to fight it.

“We all knew it would happen,” Trevor says, leaning in to nuzzle Michael’s neck before kissing it. “Now, let’s forget about you losing your mind and go find some fun.”

Michael snorts. “Some fun? In this place?”

“Yes! There’s a million bikers to run over and gas stations to rob. Let’s just relax.”

“I’m not retired? ‘Course not. How could I be while married to America’s murderous sweetheart?”

“Like you ever really wanted to be. You’re such a cliché, too,” Trevor groans as they walk out to his Bodhi, playfully mocking Michael on the way. “‘Oh, I need to make movies now, but every time I get mad on set, I just clip the guy. But I swear I’m retired! Boo-hoo! Now I hate myself!’”

“Oh, but I’m happier now that I’m married to you and apparently am embracing my inner demons?”

“That’s right, Mikey-boy,” Trevor beams, sliding into the driver’s seat, interlocking his fingers with Michael’s and taking off before either of them are even buckled in. “It took a lot of help from uncle T, but you’re finally starting to be a little less miserable.”

Michael faintly registers Trevor’s words, but his eyes are too busy focusing on their interlocked hands. The warmth of Trevor’s contrasting perfectly to Michael’s cold ones, making his face flush slightly pink — and if Trevor notices, he doesn’t mention it, which the shorter man is thankful for.

“Put that on,” Trevor says, nodding toward a hockey mask on the truck’s floor. “We’re heading up to Grapeseed. There’s a good LTD gas station up that way. We’ll only make away with a couple hundred, but it’ll be just the right amount to get the blood pumping.”

Michael reaches down and grabs the mask, his heart already speeding up; however, this time, he’s not sure if it’s because of the pre-score high or the rough skin of Trevor’s thumb rubbing over the back of his hand.

Michael opens his eyes a little while later, not sure when he even shut them, after Trevor hits a pothole while pulling alongside the Limited gas station. He shakes off any remaining sleep and puts the mask on as his partner in crime — and life, apparently — does the same.

Michael, like clockwork, kicks open the gas station door, making everyone jump and cower in fear.

Trevor steps up beside him, shooting his gun into the ceiling. “Tonight’s performance is brought to you by random acts of violence!”

Michael can’t help but smirk behind his mask, a surge of adrenaline and, if he’s honest, attraction to Trevor’s brash personality coursing through his veins.

“On the floor! Now!” Michael points his gun at the onlookers, making them fall to their knees. He can see in his peripheral vision that Trevor is pushing the gas attendant aside to empty the registers, so he turns back to the customers in front of him. “Stay on the floor or you’ll never make it back up again!”

“God, you’re so hot.”

Michael looks to see Trevor, bag full of the small take, beside him, watching him work the crowd.

He shakes his head, happy that nobody can see his flushed cheeks though his mask. “Fuck you.”

“Later, cupcake,” Trevor promises. “Right now, we gotta move.”

They keep their eyes on the crowd as they back out of the gas station before fully turning to sprint to the truck. Trevor slams on the gas, and soon, the two are driving back toward Sandy Shores, leaving the cops in the dust.

“Using a personal vehicle? We’re getting a little sloppy, aren’t we?”

Trevor smirks, both of them taking off their masks after checking the rear view mirror a few times. “Nah, sometimes it’s fun to live life on the edge.”

“I’m pretty sure your whole life has been a fine dangle on the edge, T,” Michael laughs.

“Touché.”

Confident that no cops are secretly tailing them, they pull over close to the Alamo Sea and get out. Trevor easily hops on to the hood and then pretends to struggle with pulling Michael up with him until they’re both sitting shoulder to shoulder.

For the next twenty minutes or so, they let the silence wash over them, content with listening to the faint sounds of cars going by in the distance, water gently sloshing, and birds flying above.

“I know I don’t say this enough,” Michael speaks up first, his voice quiet as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere. “You were right.”

“Ooh! Sweet Jesus, I wasn’t recording,” Trevor says dramatically. “Hold on, let me get to my Snapmatic app. I need proof this happened for when you’re giving me shit tomorrow.”

Michael nudges him playfully. “Shut the hell up. I ain’t gonna say this again, so you better listen. I needed this today. I’m not sure if tomorrow I’m going to wake up miserable again, married to Amanda, and hating your guts. But I’m glad today happened.”

Trevor watches him like he’s trying to work something out before he leans over slowly. Michael knows what’s coming. This time, he has ample opportunity to push the man away, but he doesn’t. He stays still and lets Trevor’s lips brush against his before pushing forward and meeting them in a soft kiss. Their lips move together like they’ve done this a million times — which, if this alternate reality is anything to go by, they have — and they only break apart to take a much-needed breath.

“I love you, Mikey,” Trevor murmurs gently. “But tomorrow, we’re going to get your head checked for real.”

“Deal.”

Suddenly, Michael’s world is shaking and his eyes are flying open as Trevor stands above him.

“Thank fuck,” Trevor gripes. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Michael, completely disoriented, keeps his eyes trained on Trevor. “What? What happened? Was I sleeping? What day is it?”

“Uh, January first.”

“What year?”

“Did you have a stroke?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “I’m getting déjà vu. What fuckin’ year, Trevor?”

“2014.”

Letting his eyes finally roam around, he realizes they’re both outside, somewhere out near Mirror Park by the looks of it. Discarded beside him are used packs of fireworks, empty beer cans, and a confetti popper saying, “New Year’s Eve 2013.”

Michael sits up, leaning against the tall rocks while Trevor scoots back to join him.

“What happened last night, T? ‘Cause I had a really…weird dream. Or- or trip. Something.”

“Yeah, we took shrooms. You laughed your ass off. We drank some beer, and then shot off some boomies, and then you passed out. Overall, not a bad night.”

“I took shrooms?”

“You sure did,” Trevor nods proudly. “Haven’t seen you laugh like that since … ever.”

Trevor smirks before continuing. “Tell me about this dream.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Michael’s eyes dart away to avoid Trevor’s piercing gaze. “Nothing, man. Barely remember.”

“Fine, fine,” Trevor relents, but an amused grin still plagues his features. “But don’t expect to actually marry me if you don’t even share your dreams.”

Michael blanches, his mouth open in shock. “Wh- what?”

“You talk in your sleep, sugar,” Trevor sultry voice echoes in the otherwise quiet outdoors. “If you ever want to make good on that, you know where to find me. I wouldn���t be the first man to get married on whim.”

“I don’t- I wasn’t-,” Michael stammers, but Trevor cuts him off.

“Gonna have to get rid of sweet little Amanda, though. I don’t do well sharing. But you know that, eh?”

Michael nods, not getting a chance to respond before Trevor is planting a chaste kiss on his lips and standing up.

“Oh, and happy new year, Mikey.”

[zankaboo]

I started playing Faith The Unholy Trinity and I'm currently on chapter 3 and I lowkey nearly fuckin sharted my pants, this game is so damn good

it's one of the very few games that genuinely scares the crap outta me, 12/10, would recommend

games with pixel/minimalistic graphics are always the scariest for me and then there's also the religious shit that gives me massive heebie jeebies lmao

[synthized]

Jealousy is a violent beast. How many times will I have to witness you and Judas gooey-eyed, some act of laughter that I know is false coming from your broken mouth. Soulmate resides in the purple mist, not in OUR boy. The one we vowed to protect since the moment we first laid eyes on him. Picked him up from the wreckage, his flesh tearing into cosmic patchwork. Screams of grief that only our arms could comfort. These blood-stained hands promising to never hurt a hair on his corrupted head. Nobody will touch him again. Not the Void. Not Trust. Not Fate. Not some fucking pretty boy cunt who should be more concerned about his kiddo, than swooning Judas.

So, leading you out to the darkness was easy, Leon. Some word about Judas and you scampered with lion's curls in obedience. Now you're here, with your big blues and questioning what I wanted. What I want? I want Him.

It takes a curled fist a moment to reach back, before slamming into the angelic bridge of your nose. You are pretty, I'll admit it. But you're broken. You're a mess. Your priority will always side with Maverick. You think I would even give you the opportunity to put Judas Second? An Unholy Trinity is exactly what me, Nanuq and Judas need to be. And that shit doesn't need to concern you. Not anymore. Escape the path of Synthization. Of this universal domination. It ain't no place for soft-southern cubs in a den of feral dogs.

I think of Him. And I'll punch you again. Judas. Another hit against your cheekbone. Judas. Another rabid fist into the side of your temple. Seeing blood splatter over the black. Feeling it paint against my knuckles.

"First and last fuckin' warnin', -" I'll punch against your gut now. Sensation of my bone meeting the marrow of your ribs mouth-watering. "Leave. 'Cause if ya don't, it won't just be his Mama y'boy mourns."

[ ​🇸​​🇾​​🇳​​🇹​​🇭​​🇮​​🇿​​🇪​​🇩​ : // 🇨​​🇴​​🇳​​🇹​​🇮​​🇳​​🇺​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇨​​🇪​​🇳​​🇪​ ] NOT   AN   EASY   CHOICE,   love   never   is.   the   impossible   task   given   by   the   deathly   deity,   black   roots   that   settled   into   pore   &   cell   'pon   his   realm   of   crumbling   moon, twisting within drowning neurons screaming for home - latching 'pon your thoughts of him, him, him.   amethyst   daggers   striking   into   lionheart   whose   emotions, mortality,  devotionals from the heart   that rise   from   the   ashes   once   thought   lost.   no   adoration   for   the   mullet-covered   figure   who   had   saved   your   life   'pon   downpour   soaked   highway.   grasping   'pon   an   abuser's   throat   believed   to   hold   eternal   worship,   commitment   through   wedding   rings   with   the   sudden   daily   prayer   that   you   would   survive   another   day,   another,   another   to   watch   your   son   grow   up   into   the   man   that   you   wanted   to   be.   strong,   bold,   courageous   -   the   same   traits   that   starlight   in   wild   brunette   curls   &   the   humanity   still   dancing   within   his   amber   eyes hold.   judas,   oh   judas   ;   the   choice   given   by   anubis   'pon   that   lunar-purple   land.   kill   the   man   you   fall   for,   or   maverick   will   belong   to   me.   you   will   never   see   your   boy   again   [   .    .    .    ]     kochavi   didn't   even   fight   back   as   you   held   the   gun,   grasp   trembling,   agony   of   wildfires   as   blonde   mane   stuck   'pon   tear-stained   cheeks.   you   begged   him   to   stop   you,   to   do   something   &   he   did.   telling   you   clear:   DO   IT.   do   what   the   corruption   could   not.   what   the   universe   failed   to   act upon   through   promised   tumours   that   would   wreck   brain   matter   into   fatality.   belonging   finally   in   the   arms   of   salem,   soulmate   lost   since   rebirth   began.

haunted   by   what   happened   only   hours   ago,   the   recoil   from   a   revolver,   the   flash   of   white   blinding   as   judas   on   bended   knee   flew   backwards.   hole   carved   between   open   eyes,   smoking,   as   orb-dusted   blood   pooled   across   the   flaming   star   sanctuary.   as   you   grabbed   maverick's   hand   to   run,   run,   run   ;   run   anywhere   (   &   getting   nowhere   but   mere   metres   away,   curled   up   in   a   ball   propped   up   'gainst   brickwork   as   your   son   clutched   'pon   your   arm   in   fear-ached   confusion   -   )   ,   run   just   like   you   did   in   that   marital   home   as   she   raised   that   sharpened   knife   edge   towards   small   child.   run   in   the   knowing   that   the   next   chapter   of   your   story,   perhaps   the   only   act   in   this   narrative   that   truly   mattered   for   your   healing,   your   survival,   the   bandaging   'pon   that   fractured   heart   desperate   to   love   &   be   loved,   had   been   extinguished.   all   from   a   choice   impossible,   from   the   shaking   pull   of   a   gun's   trigger. JUDAS,   PLEASE   ;   I'M   SORRY   !!   I'M   SO   FUCKIN'   SORRY.   oh,   leon   ;   the   stars   hold   sympathy   for   your   whimpers,   shoulders   hunched   &   muscles   tightening   in   a   grief   unfathomable.

that   is   until   mars   finds   you,   a   snarling   dog   seeking   its   target   even   within   this   unknown   dimension,   color   of   judas   painted   onto   the   tips   of   his   calloused   hands.   wild   ferality   in   his   eyes   that   tells   you   everything   you   need   to   know.   tells   you   silently   that   there   is   unfinished   business.   his   husband   reaching   out   to   hold   maverick   gently   in   his   arms,   leading   him   away as mars grabs the back of your plaid collar. leading   you   into   a   cosmic   field   of   neon-blue   flowers,   which   moments   later,   is   painted   in   the   crimson   stain   of   your   deserved   punishment. words   snarled   in   sadism   &   spit,   another   impossible   choice   ;   yet   it's   a   choice   that   mars   does   not   usually   give.   what   should   be   your   obvious   death   right   here   'pon   this   jasmine   scented   grass   that   could   be   avoided.   which   means   [   .   .   .   ]   oh, please. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE;   could   it   mean   --

[​ ​🇱​​🇪​​🇴​​🇳​ : //​ ]   m-mars --

response   halts   as   nose   is   suddenly   busted,   broken,   twang   of   metallic   iron   reaching   quivering   mouth   as   hand   extends   towards   mars   ;   white   flag   of   surrender. plea to pause.   just   like   you   did   in   that   house   of   horrors,   poor   southern   boy   destined   for   black   eyed   terror   &   rib-smashed   torture. yet   you   must   know,   even   if   question   proves   inappropriate,   even   if   mars   tears   you   right   'pon   these   neon   foundations.   rips   out   your   beating   heart   &   devours   your   sinful   flesh   'neath   the   black   abyss   of   overhanging   skies,   you   must   know.

FOR   THE   VISION   OF   JUDAS   SINKING   'PON   HIS   KNEE,   HIS   DOE-EYED   SIGHT   GLANCING   'PON   YOUR   OWN,   SINKING   INTO   YOUR   SOUL   AS   TEARS   GRAZED   HIS   IRISES.   &   YOURS,   BLURRED,   BLINDED.   NOT   FROM   TEARS,   YET   HOW   THEY   FLOWED,   BUT   BLINDED   BY   LOVE.   HE   KNEW,   THE   COSMOS   SCREAMS,   HE   KNOWS.   &   HE   FEELS   IT   TOO.   BECAUSE   IT'S   LOVE.

&   I   LOVE   YOU,   JUDAS.    I   LOVE   YOU,   I   LOVE   YOU,   I   LOVE   YOU.

spit   out   the   blood   that   stains   your   teeth,   push   palms   'pon   the   flowers   &   dare   to   rise. anger for the metal that lines the tastebuds, hatred for the way mars speaks of your son's future grief ; wrath for what you have done to such a beautiful soul deserving of love, love, love.   for   a   burning   question   sings   from   the   cowboy,   lasso   of   truth   wrapping   around   mars   for   a   question   the   universe   dares   to   have   answered:

[​ ​🇱​​🇪​​🇴​​🇳​ : //​ ]   tell me he's alright [   .   .   .   ] MOTHERFUCKER, TELL ME HE'S ALIVE.

[porcelainseashore]

me reading into the ether 14 like

god fucking lord ALMIGHTY

ada you still better watch your fuckin step but THE FUCKING END ARE YOU SHIDDING ME PORCELAIN

well. i’ll be on the edge of my damn seat until you bless us with part 15, i hope you’re pleased with yourself

lov u miss u hope ur well♡

Did I tell you that I love your meme reviews already?? Ada always knows how to push people's buttons, doesn't she? I love her for that and the way she plays the long game 🤭

I do have Chapter 15 halfway written out, but there's still a good chunk of it to go. There's a long list of stuff I intend to focus on this summer, like getting my sailing licence, weekend hikes, my VtM campaigns, and not to mention I'm currently going through an IWTV brainrot! (Lestat, Louis and Armand — the Unholy Trinity ughhhh 😩❤️) Hopefully I have supersonic, effective time management skills, and am able to bang out a couple of fic updates, but I can already foresee progress being slowwww...

Thank you still so much for sticking with me though! Let's keep chatting via DMs 🗣️

[angelhummel]

if u think that Rachel berry shouldn't have been the main character ur Kinda a dumb dumb. the core values of the show is annoying theatre kids who are outcasts finding solace in a goddamned glee club,, and you think fuckin qu*nn, br*ttany or s*antana were gonna give that energy??? absolutely fuckin not all they were going to do was be annoying popular people who learn the valuable lesson that popularity isn't everything but

and if the show wasn't about Rachel it would have been about kurt, mercedes, artie or tina being annoying theatre kids who are outcasts

I do actually like santana a fair bit, think Quinn was decent and brittany was definitely a character on the show, but there was nay a reason for a single one of them to truly be the main character

same anon as before but I think I may have made it seem like I was complaining at you but I was just complaining about others who don't have the third eye to see Rachel being the main character was the most logical conclusion xxx

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

oh yeah lmao for a second i was like "did i do something to make them think i thought that way..?" but yeah no i totally agreeee

the people who insist the unholy trinity carried the whole show are sooo dumb like baby they didnt even carry the three seasons you watched :/ but yeah i do like santana but damn those blonde bitches dragged her down so bad

and it always makes me mad that the show was about being an outcast and yet the popular kids always outnumbered the nerds. like 5:7

and dont get me started about the bullshit parade in 6x12 about how the gay, fat, black, disabled, jewish, asian characters need to open their hearts and minds and be more accepting of the cishet white male jock that lowkey bullies them all but is kind of sort of nice bc he didnt call the fat girl fat and let the gay kid take off his jacket before his friends tossed him in the dumpster and also hasnt started using slurs yet. he's a saint that deserves a million second chances (but his girlfriend is still a bitch and we hate her forever)

ugh. screaming internally, screaming eternally etc

[rreskk]

Hey! Can you write a fic about groki.aep, sangsluvr and planetlamar in the GTA universe? They’re my favourite editors ever!!!

The editors were very happy to have a fan request this (as I had to make sure they were comfortable). Follow them on tiktok: -@Groki.aep -@Planetlamar -@sangsluvr

Summary: Three editors had fallen into the GTA verse. The beginning of their adventures were riddled with shock and fear, but they managed to loosen up and found themselves in favour by one criminal in particular.

TW: -Suggestive content (near the end).

Word count: 2070

“Who the fuck are you?”

Trevor, Michael, Franklin stood opposite these newly (not to mention confused) strangers. Each of them looked fearfully alarmed of their new surroundings. They were stood within the busy streets of Los Santos, happening to be situated outside a strip club called “The Vanilla Unicorn.” They found these three strangers coincidentally; until one of them recognised the Unholy criminals, their eyes growing wider in familiarity.

“Hellooooo? Am I speaking to myself here?” Trevor growled – taking offence to their startled silence.

“Chill out, T. They’re probably tourists.”

“Franklin, when have you ever seen tourists stand miserably outside of a strip-club? I’m just sayin’… It don’t sit right with me.” The aggressor spoke again before pointing at the middle stranger, who happened to be the well-known “sangsluvr”, but of course… None of the Unholy trinity knew currently.

“You.”

Sangsluvr pointed to themselves, clearly intimidated by Trevor’s unpredictable nature. They tried to take a step back but he was already in their reach, pushing a finger into their chest with no mannerism.

“Don’t run away, I don’t bite,” Trevor mewled, “Now… Where’d you come from, ay? Where are you and your friends based? You got kidnapped? Oi!” He snapped his fingers to recollect all of their dazed attentions (thanks to the surreal situation) – “I’m speaking to you all. Why ain’t you in there…? Havin’ some fuckin’ fun, hm?”

They all followed his finger which motioned towards the strip-club.

“Oh, Jesus… Leave em alone, Trevor.”

“No can do! Mikey, hey, come on… Look at these losers… All they do is stare. Fuckin’ rude, am I right?”

“We ain’t got time for this.” Franklin breathed out, finding himself fed up and tired of Trevor antagonising these poor strangers. He noticed how pressured and panicky they were. I mean… Each of them failed to form words in response to Trevor’s aggressive (and disrespectful) curiosity.

“Fuck… Not you too, ay? Frankie, c’mon –“

“This is… Los Santos?” One of the strangers weakly said. People called him “Planetlamar”.

“Yeah, this is Los Santos. This ain’t Liberty City, or Vice City.” Michael squinted his eyes at the strangers unusual inquiry. He observed the three of them; thinking it was too niche to call them tourists since they aren’t even aware of what city they’re in.

“Los Santos? Not… Los Angeles?” Planetlamar found his heart beginning to race faster.

Trevor scoffed, “Los Ang – what now? You playing games with us, huh? You think this is fuckin’ funny?”

“Man, he must be high as shit.”

“No, Franklin. They just don’t…” Michael found himself looking at “groki.aep” with sudden curiosity. He tilted his head and uttered some of his own conclusions and questions; “Do you all know each other?”

He hoped “groki.aep” would speak considering she remained quiet amongst her group. This had captured Trevor’s observation. He maintained sturdy eye-contact with her, an attempt to scare out some more information.

“Uh, yeah… We do know each other.” Groki-aep peered at the two others beside her, and they nodded at her answer.

“Huh…” Franklin crossed his arms and studied each of them, “How’d you get around here then?”

“We don’t know.”

“The fuck? How the fuck do you not know, sugartits?” Trevor glared at “sangsluvr”.

“We literally don’t know – “

“Oh, shut up!” He shouted at them again before Michael held him back with a firm grip upon the shoulder.

Sangsluvr seemed relieved when the main intimidator was restrained from approaching them further. Nevertheless, the one who recognised the criminals first (Planetlamar) had found the confidence to speak up after Trevor’s almost fatal barking rage.

“Are you… Michael… De Santa, Franklin Clinton and – “ He paused; speaking of the Devil, “Trevor Philips?”

Suddenly the group of men in front of them grew stiff and silent. They were completely took off-guard with these bundle of strange super-recognisers. It made Michael wonder if he was familiar with the wrong… Idea.

“How’d you know us?”

Planetlamar looked at Groki.aep for support, realising it was a bad idea to confess knowing the criminals. While they both seemed speechless with not a single explanation that could possibly convince Michael.

“How do you know us?” He’d demand again.

There was silence.

“Fucks sakes. They’re definitely high,” Trevor grumbled darkly as he inspected the three strangers, “I want what they’re on… Shit… Oi, you!” He pointed at Groki.aep with a grin – “How ‘bout we trade, ay? The finest meth for… The stuff you’re on. Ain’t that an idea…?”

She was beyond flabbergasted, her mouth open ajar at the weird request.

“Unless you’re actually a customer and living on my meth. I don’t know…” Trevor scanned her confusion, “My meth don’t make anyone this demented, unless you’re overdosing. Are you?”

“Trevor, come on bro… Leave her alone.”

“Frankie, they know us. Now- now, I know you ain’t that familiar with the criminal lifestyle, but it’s not exactly a friendly thing to be recognised. Especially when you don’t know the bastards.”

“Shit, man, they are all probably high or somethin’.” Franklin sighed.

“Why? Do you know some weed that makes you act like a total clown?”

“Maybe not weed… But I’ve seen drugs do stuff like that.” He replied to T.

Michael ignored their bickering as he glared towards the unknown visitors. His mind was racing. He has a family, a life, a “normal” record – but also promises he has to keep. He can’t let these people run off without knowing how they know him. It was all too much to understand.

“- In my opinion, Frankie, I think we should… Maybe test them.”

“Not with a fucking gun, you idiot.”

“You’re just like Michael!” Cried Trevor and turned his back to Franklin. He huffed childishly before reinserting his focus upon the situation.

In the meantime, Sangsluvr had managed to use their limbs after the momentary phase of shock and fear. They took a few steps forward and glanced back at their friends, urging them to follow. Initially it was a definite no, but they had to either avoid or merely… Gaslight the guys. Whether or not the “Vanilla Unicorn” would make them seem less suspicious, maybe a bit of fun would help defuse the tension.

“Woahhh, hey! Cupcakes, where ya goin’?” Trevor snarled and stopped Groki.aep from walking with the rest. His hand lied on her stomach, the force upon his palm so inhumanly difficult to project and fight against.

“The club.” Replied Planetlamar. He reached for Groki’s hand and untangled her from T’s massacred hands.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“Oh, shut up, Mikey. Let’s join em.”

“Join them?” Michael laughed in disbelief, “Trevor, are you kidding me?”

“Dead serious brother. In fact, they seem like great fun. Maybe I can persuade them for the drugs they’re on.” He sparked and smirked, rushing after the group in anticipation.  

Franklin had no other choice but to walk beside Michael as they trailed Trevor’s footsteps. When they entered the club, they both saw Trevor leant against the table of the strangers with a pathetic grin. His whole demeanour had changed from hostile and “macho” to sensual and a little bit eager. The whole belief of drugs had made him skip from one personality to each other. While the three groupies were consistently dismaying the presence of substances and drugs, it wasn’t convinced, instead, Trevor likes the challenge.

“Oh, come on now… Just because I was a little mean…” He gave them all pleading eyes, “That shouldn’t stop you from giving me some.”

Sangsluvr shook their head – “Trevor, we don’t have anything.”

“If you ain’t on anything, you can fuck me sideways and under. That’s hard to believe.”

“Leave em alone.” Michael warned as he sat on a nearby table with Franklin. They were close enough to eardrop the conversation and maybe stop T from causing a scene or catching himself a case (legal and illegal cases).

“Ignore him, cupcakes, he don’t know what fun is.”

“Anyone want some drinks?” Planetlamar offered with the menu in his hand.

“Ooooh! You guys want to party, ay?” The menu was snatched from his hands as Trevor threw it away, “You don’t need that propaganda shit. I know a good cheap and strong drink. Who wants one?”

Hesitantly nodding, this sent T into a trance. The man shook his arms in excitement and jumped towards the bar to gather the ideal drinks for his newly interesting “friends”.

Meanwhile, Michael was watching the scene and frowned.

“I don’t trust em.”

“Shit man, I don’t know… They seem harmless.” Franklin placed his cap down and observed the strippers walking by.

“Yeah, well, whatever happens. We’ll put the blame on Trevor.” He’d respond in a monotonal voice.

“Pfft… Yeah, sure man.”

The “retired” criminal slumped into his seat further before making eye-contact with Planetlamar. Michael tried to shake it off, but he couldn’t help looking back again. He got curious and wanted to know more. He couldn’t help it. Franklin watched as he gestured the stranger to come over, presumably wanting to talk in a more friendly manner. Mikey had shuffled aside for Planetlamar to seat himself at. Unlike the other table where it was more in the open, the booth they were currently under had dim lights and more privacy. It suited Michael more.

“What’s up?” Planetlamar asked with a raised eyebrow, plotting beside the older man.

“Oh… Uh, we just wanna talk.”

-

“Alrighty, sugartits, we have ourselves some fuel for tonight.” Trevor snickered and slammed down some bottles before realising an empty seat. He frowned, “Where’s the other rascal at?”

“Michael called for him.” Groki imputed. She was sat on the chair besides the madman himself while Sangsluvr was tucked further away.

“Unlucky guy. He’s probably gonna deal with Mikey’s whining and shitty family life or whatever that is. Hey, let’s not get into that bouche shit. We are here to drriiiinkkk!”

Sangsluvr nodded and raised their drink, “Amen.”

They all took a sip of the alcohol.

And it was like a baptism. Groki immediately gagged at the taste. It tasted like pure gasoline and beer combined. Both their throats began burning at the strong sensation, but Trevor was gulping his drink without a reaction. He let it dribble down his chin in the process as well. He was fully immune to the acidic drink, it was quite absurd and… Well, purely insane.

“How are you drinking that?” Sangsluvr coughed.

“Ahh, you’ll get used to this,” Trevor outstretched his arm around Groki’s shoulder, giving her a playful shake before grinning at Sangs, “Alcohol makes me very endearing and warm inside. Why don’t we share a nice hug, ay?”

They were both pulled into a hug unwillingly. He wrapped his arms around them, occasionally lowering his hands but it was dismissed once the two grew uncomfortable at his sudden antiques.

“Oh, come on… Not a little playtime? If you ain’t gonna gimme some drugs, how about something else? Why don’t you get your friend in the shit as well. The more, the merrier.”

Glancing over, Planetlamar was being haggled and held captive. Michael had a beer in his hand, rambling on passionately while Franklin seemed to be in the same sticky situation, just watching the older man fall into a complete emotional abyss. Trevor snickered and intertwined his fingers with Groki.aep and Sangsluvr.

“He’s having some fun, ay? I told you; Mikey ain’t a fun guy to be around… For a long period of time. He’s a little snake in my ass.”

“In your ass?”

He raised an eyebrow at Groki, “Yes. In my ass, up my ass. Whatever. The moral of the story is – “ He gently nudged her shoulder before winking at Sangs – “Don’t befriend turds. Get yourself a guy like me. Got that, sugartits?”

“Sounds reasonable.” Sangsluvr remarked.

“Oh it is. Very reasonable. You know what else is reasonable?” Grinned Trevor.

He watched them both look at each other.

“It’s either the drugs or something other. Choose your pick. I have a lap and two legs for a reason. I’m a two seater joyride…”

It’s not every day you wake up in the GTA universe. It’s either they’ll wake up at home or this is a continuous nightmare… Either way, the two editors mutually agreed through non-verbal communication. The odds of sharing a moment with your favourite character and not experience it again. Heads or tails; giving heads, or being kicked in the tails.

“Something other.”

Trevor smirked, “Jackpot.”

[msookyspooky]

Quick question!

In the unholy trinity au are billy and Stu just besties or are they like unspoken together??

I can’t get enough dilf billy and Stu! And Stu being ready to attack anyone for them is just 🥺🥺

Oh they're fuckin. They're enraptured. They're in love. (But they probably keep it a secret even tho all the kids are like "Yeah its okay Dad you're going on a date with Dad number 2/papa its fine." )

Fr dilfs protecting their babies has me in a chokehold 😍🥲😩

[l4t1as]

I took a special interest in Faith the Unholy Trinity at the same time I forgot to get one of my mental health meds for an unknown amount of days and I was shaken to the core by un-explainable anxiety. I thought the fuckin demons were getting to me this witch bitch though her soul was vulnerable. nope just ADHD hell.

[wanderingpages]

If you’re talking about that, the threesome fic and the one where Jude’s insinuated cardan was dirty cus he had an orgy (and called out her name !!) aka the unholy trinity of smut, you have no idea how hot in character that shit was lmao I remember those three cus I was like damn peach be fuckin 💀💀💀

LMFAO BYE

[got-eggs]

God, Father Garcia from Faith the Unholy Trinity is so fuckin cool man :)

[black-star-kunzite]

Aight now Elsa’s fuckin gone and Belle basically gave Rumple the ultimate restraining order, and now we finally get Black people(person) in a TRUELY PROMINENT reoccurring role lmao but none of these new antagonists are serving cunt like Rumple and Regina and hell even Zelena. The mf unholy trinity of giving the people what they want while being a menace. Cruella I guess is a bit interesting but only bc she calls Rumple a manlet at every opportunity. I like Ursula bc she called his ass a bum after they met (fucker literally walked into her apt used her shit and ate her food like fight back????) (also she’s someone other than a Milk Marauder) I keep thinking Maleficent is the Angelina Jolie version and I keep getting disappointed when she’s not there so idk abt Maleficent, shes also not serving at alllllll (so far) so idc. Also free Ursula from that fuckass wig bc where were the wig installers on set? Who bought that party city ass wig and slapped it on her??? That’s how you know there was a negative amount of black people on set bc how you gonna make Cruella’s shit look at least passable and in the same vein throw a dusty balayage bargain bin wig on Ursula and call it a day???? Especially for her true form look?????

[biggestfoolonthemarket]

FALLOUT AND FAITH: THE UNHOLY TRINITY SPOILERS AHEAD

the funny thing about the fallout series

(coming from the guy who has watched several multi-hour video essays but only played like 1 hour of fallout 76 at a friends house years ago)

is that everyone’s like “well shucks, guess i gotta chill in the vault now.” no one cares that everything they’ve ever known was destroyed, no one cares that everything they’ve ever known was destroyed or cares that this new vault home is their new home. they dont get to go back to their house. they dont get to pet their dog. they dont get fresh fuckin air and sunshine. and if they do that makes the “test vaults” AKA the ones they experiment on legitimately more fucked up than the second death from faith (yknow the thing where THEY PUT LIVE BABIES IN YOUR FUCKING FACE HOLE)

spoilers over, continue scrolling.