Tokio Hotel: Sex, Lies, & Videotape 2/??
Title: Sex, Lies, & Videotape: Chapter 2/20(ish) - I'm Sorry
Genre: Slash
Characters: Andreas, Bill Kaulitz, David Jost, Georg Listing, Gustav Schafer, OMC, Simone Trumper, Tom Kaulitz
Pairing: Bill/Tom, Bill/OMC, Bill/Andi, Tom/OMC
Rating: NC17
Category: AU, Angst, Drama, Twincest
Words (in chapter): 1805
Warning: Abuse, Adult Content, Bondage, Cross Dressing, Heavy Kink, Humiliation, Incest, Minor Character Death, Non-Con/Rape, Pedophilia, Uder-Age Erotica, Violence, WIP
Summary: Simone receives mysterious videotapes in the mail of her twins. How will the family deal with the content of the tapes, and will they all survive the aftermath?
Note: By far my darkest fic EVER. This story stemmed from one lyric in the song Liar, Liar by The Used. I've never written anything with this type of content before.
On the fourth video that arrived, the setting was entirely different. Simone realized, as she watched, that this bed was different than the last one. The last one had been just a filthy mattress on the floor without sheets. This one was high off the ground, and made up with dark grey sheets and fluffy pillows. It couldn’t have been the same location used in the previous video, where the twins were photographed.
The boys were sitting on the edge of the bed, a bottle of vodka and some cranberry juice between them. They were playing Rock, Paper, Scissors and whichever one lost had to take a shot; Bill kept losing. An off-screen voice asked the boys if they were ready. Simone thought she knew the voice, but couldn’t wrap her mind around it to place a face. Her mind was racing, she didn’t know what was about to happen, but there was a bed involved, and naturally that would lead one to think things that shouldn’t be thought about brothers, or their own children, for that matter.
On the tape, Tom was told to help his brother stand up. Tom gently set the bottles on the floor at their feet, then did as he was told by pulling Bill from the bed. As they stood, Bill wobbled, his inebriated state getting the better of him. Had Tom’s arm not closed around his waist he would have tripped, falling to the floor. Simone swallowed thickly, already feeling nauseated. They were still only thirteen.
The voice told Tom to remove Bill’s jeans. Bill shook his head, eyes darting around the room. He didn’t want to do this. He was too drunk to stand properly and he felt like everything he’d eaten that day was about to come back up. Tom glared at the camera, but did as he was told, letting his brother’s waist go and stepping in front of him. Bill stared at his brother, shocked. They shouldn’t be doing this. This was wrong. He hugged himself as Tom unzipped him. His breathing was becoming more erratic and his head felt light. Maybe he was about to pass out.
More detailed instructions came and Tom kneeled in front of Bill. The jeans slid down Bill’s thighs, leaving him in just a small t-shirt that met the elastic band of simple blue boxers. Bill kept shaking his head, back and forth, back and forth. He plopped onto the bed roughly, Tom’s hands staying at his waist. Tom glanced at the camera quickly, feeling nervous.
Tom hesitated, looking at his brother’s face above him. They stared at each other for the space of a few terrified heartbeats. Neither one wanted to do this with the man standing there watching them, recording them. The voice off-screen, annoyed, told Tom to continue; said that they had no trouble undressing themselves a few weeks ago, when the pictures had been taken. The twins turned their heads to face the camera, denial on their lips. They couldn’t remember that night. They’d gotten drunk for the first time that night. They were both arguing with the man behind the camera. The film cut off abruptly and Simone thought that might have been the end of it until it flared back to life a second later.
Bill was still seated on the edge of the bed, but now he was crying. Big silent tears falling from his eyes and landing on his thighs and Tom’s hands. Tom was still kneeling in front of him. He looked like he wanted to join his brother in the tears, but was biting his lip holding them back. Simone noticed a red imprint on Bill’s cheek. She ground her teeth, enraged. No only had the sick bastard abused her kids sexually, but also physically. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her skin. It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t go back in time and change things.
Tom’s hands were on Bill’s knees, his head bowed over his little brother’s lap. Bill was instructed to touch Tom’s hair. He shook as he placed his hand timidly over the newly formed, loose dreads. His eyes went to the camera, tears leaking down his cheeks. The voice encouraged him and told him it was okay, instructed him to remember the night, weeks ago, when he did so much more than this with Tom. Bill sobbed, he really couldn’t remember anything of that night.
Tom looked up. He stared at Bill’s eyes; he couldn’t remember, either. The only reason either one believed it had happened was because there were pictures for proof. Tom rubbed Bill’s knee. He would have given anything to just hug Bill in that moment. Tom didn’t cry as his fingers hooked around the waistband of Bill’s boxers. No tears were shed as he pulled at the thin cotton, revealing more of Bill’s pale skin.
Bill couldn’t take it. He shot up from the bed and bolted past Tom, knocking him to his butt in the process, and spilling the alcohol. Retching sounds could be heard, but the camera stayed focused on the bed. The man was yelling at Bill. Tom got up and went to join his brother out of view. Simone listened as Tom started yelling at the cameraman. She heard him get slapped and she flinched for her child.
Simone shut the tape off before it went any further. She did not want to know if the man on the tape had hit her children worse than what she’d already seen. There was no way she was going to watch her boys, her babies, have sex with each other on film, while a pervert got off to it. Grabbing the other tapes from the hutch, she stomped upstairs.
She had no clue what she was going to say to the twins. How do you ask your kids, no matter what age, if they’d been molested and forced into performing on camera? It was something out of a twisted movie. What kind of person would do that to innocent boys?
Stepping up to the closed bedroom door of the twins, Simone steeled her nerves. If her sons could go through these horrors, the least she could do was try and make things up to them, and not get sick in front of them. After all, it had happened to them and not her.
The boys called for her to come in after two knocks. Tom was lying on his bed, head propped against the headboard, with a magazine while Bill was on the floor, at the foot of Tom’s bed, sketching. Her eyes darted back and forth between them, fingers tightening on the videos in her hands. What could she say? Staying frozen she continued to stare.
“Are you okay, mom?” Tom spoke first, sitting up, dropping the magazine closed next to him. She shook her head. Was she okay? Fuck no she was not okay. Receiving tapes of her two boys doing things had messed her up inside. She was so torn. She wanted to demand them tell her who had filmed them so she could seek vengeance. The other half of her, the more calm half, knew that if she started making demands of them, they’d clam up and feel blamed.
A situation such as this had to be handled delicately. Even if these traumatic events happened years ago and were no longer going on, they still happened, and the boys were still affected. Simone had a feeling that it was Bill who had been more broken by this than his brother. Her chin trembled as she looked at Bill, her youngest. He was so fragile. She couldn’t comprehend how someone could have done this to him. He was so much weaker than his brother. It clicked in her head; the timeframe of Bill’s withdrawn persona began at the same age as the films. Tears dampened her eyes as she looked at him. Would he ever forgive her for not seeing it? Not noticing that her children were crying out for help?
Bill glanced at Tom, who shrugged. He didn’t know what was wrong with their mom, either, but she was acting strange. “Mom?” Tom asked her, again, if she was okay. Head shaking back and forth, Simone tossed the videos onto the bed in front of Tom. Tom paled; he knew what those tapes were. How had his mother gotten a hold of them? He looked to Bill first then to his mother. Not knowing what to say to her, he just shook his head as their eyes were glued to each other.
Bill came to his knees on the floor just staring at the tapes. He remembered them, how could he have forgotten? His mouth fell open as he realized his mother had watched the tapes. He began hyperventilating as he looked up at her, stricken. He couldn’t help himself and started crying, apologies flying over his lips faster than he could speak, begging forgiveness.
Simone couldn’t take it. Her son was apologizing for having been abused. Bill was falling apart in front of her, sobbing apologies at her, and none of it had been his fault. Of that, she was convinced. She turned and walked out of the room without saying anything to the boys.
“Mom! Mom, wait, I’m sorry! Please, I never meant...” Bill was screaming as she left. He kept repeating how sorry he was, how ashamed. He begged for her forgiveness. Tom remained silent on the bed, picking at his nails, chewing on his lip ring, just watching. Their mom knew now, that Tom was unable to protect Bill from the monster. Looking back to his brother, hugging himself on the floor and crying silently, Tom could only put all the blame on himself.
That was not how Simone had planned going in there. Guilt overrode every other emotion inside her body and she ran to the bathroom. She heaved over the toilet for several minutes, nothing but more guilt coming up. Flushing her spit away, she sat back against the wall trying to gain composure. They needed to talk. They needed to have a family meeting, and no matter how awkward or uncomfortable, they needed to get to the bottom of this issue. She had no clue how to help her boys and for that, she felt like the worst mother in the world. Mothers were supposed to protect their children and she’d failed them. Simone wrapped her arms tight around herself and cried. She cried for her twins, for their pain, and for her own guilt taunting her in the back of her mind. Strength was what she needed for this, so she prayed. Forgiveness for her blind sight is what she wanted, so for that, too, she prayed sitting on the bathroom floor, hugging herself.
-Jax-
Genre: Slash
Characters: Andreas, Bill Kaulitz, David Jost, Georg Listing, Gustav Schafer, OMC, Simone Trumper, Tom Kaulitz
Pairing: Bill/Tom, Bill/OMC, Bill/Andi, Tom/OMC
Rating: NC17
Category: AU, Angst, Drama, Twincest
Words (in chapter): 1805
Warning: Abuse, Adult Content, Bondage, Cross Dressing, Heavy Kink, Humiliation, Incest, Minor Character Death, Non-Con/Rape, Pedophilia, Uder-Age Erotica, Violence, WIP
Summary: Simone receives mysterious videotapes in the mail of her twins. How will the family deal with the content of the tapes, and will they all survive the aftermath?
Note: By far my darkest fic EVER. This story stemmed from one lyric in the song Liar, Liar by The Used. I've never written anything with this type of content before.
On the fourth video that arrived, the setting was entirely different. Simone realized, as she watched, that this bed was different than the last one. The last one had been just a filthy mattress on the floor without sheets. This one was high off the ground, and made up with dark grey sheets and fluffy pillows. It couldn’t have been the same location used in the previous video, where the twins were photographed.
The boys were sitting on the edge of the bed, a bottle of vodka and some cranberry juice between them. They were playing Rock, Paper, Scissors and whichever one lost had to take a shot; Bill kept losing. An off-screen voice asked the boys if they were ready. Simone thought she knew the voice, but couldn’t wrap her mind around it to place a face. Her mind was racing, she didn’t know what was about to happen, but there was a bed involved, and naturally that would lead one to think things that shouldn’t be thought about brothers, or their own children, for that matter.
On the tape, Tom was told to help his brother stand up. Tom gently set the bottles on the floor at their feet, then did as he was told by pulling Bill from the bed. As they stood, Bill wobbled, his inebriated state getting the better of him. Had Tom’s arm not closed around his waist he would have tripped, falling to the floor. Simone swallowed thickly, already feeling nauseated. They were still only thirteen.
The voice told Tom to remove Bill’s jeans. Bill shook his head, eyes darting around the room. He didn’t want to do this. He was too drunk to stand properly and he felt like everything he’d eaten that day was about to come back up. Tom glared at the camera, but did as he was told, letting his brother’s waist go and stepping in front of him. Bill stared at his brother, shocked. They shouldn’t be doing this. This was wrong. He hugged himself as Tom unzipped him. His breathing was becoming more erratic and his head felt light. Maybe he was about to pass out.
More detailed instructions came and Tom kneeled in front of Bill. The jeans slid down Bill’s thighs, leaving him in just a small t-shirt that met the elastic band of simple blue boxers. Bill kept shaking his head, back and forth, back and forth. He plopped onto the bed roughly, Tom’s hands staying at his waist. Tom glanced at the camera quickly, feeling nervous.
Tom hesitated, looking at his brother’s face above him. They stared at each other for the space of a few terrified heartbeats. Neither one wanted to do this with the man standing there watching them, recording them. The voice off-screen, annoyed, told Tom to continue; said that they had no trouble undressing themselves a few weeks ago, when the pictures had been taken. The twins turned their heads to face the camera, denial on their lips. They couldn’t remember that night. They’d gotten drunk for the first time that night. They were both arguing with the man behind the camera. The film cut off abruptly and Simone thought that might have been the end of it until it flared back to life a second later.
Bill was still seated on the edge of the bed, but now he was crying. Big silent tears falling from his eyes and landing on his thighs and Tom’s hands. Tom was still kneeling in front of him. He looked like he wanted to join his brother in the tears, but was biting his lip holding them back. Simone noticed a red imprint on Bill’s cheek. She ground her teeth, enraged. No only had the sick bastard abused her kids sexually, but also physically. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her skin. It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t go back in time and change things.
Tom’s hands were on Bill’s knees, his head bowed over his little brother’s lap. Bill was instructed to touch Tom’s hair. He shook as he placed his hand timidly over the newly formed, loose dreads. His eyes went to the camera, tears leaking down his cheeks. The voice encouraged him and told him it was okay, instructed him to remember the night, weeks ago, when he did so much more than this with Tom. Bill sobbed, he really couldn’t remember anything of that night.
Tom looked up. He stared at Bill’s eyes; he couldn’t remember, either. The only reason either one believed it had happened was because there were pictures for proof. Tom rubbed Bill’s knee. He would have given anything to just hug Bill in that moment. Tom didn’t cry as his fingers hooked around the waistband of Bill’s boxers. No tears were shed as he pulled at the thin cotton, revealing more of Bill’s pale skin.
Bill couldn’t take it. He shot up from the bed and bolted past Tom, knocking him to his butt in the process, and spilling the alcohol. Retching sounds could be heard, but the camera stayed focused on the bed. The man was yelling at Bill. Tom got up and went to join his brother out of view. Simone listened as Tom started yelling at the cameraman. She heard him get slapped and she flinched for her child.
Simone shut the tape off before it went any further. She did not want to know if the man on the tape had hit her children worse than what she’d already seen. There was no way she was going to watch her boys, her babies, have sex with each other on film, while a pervert got off to it. Grabbing the other tapes from the hutch, she stomped upstairs.
She had no clue what she was going to say to the twins. How do you ask your kids, no matter what age, if they’d been molested and forced into performing on camera? It was something out of a twisted movie. What kind of person would do that to innocent boys?
Stepping up to the closed bedroom door of the twins, Simone steeled her nerves. If her sons could go through these horrors, the least she could do was try and make things up to them, and not get sick in front of them. After all, it had happened to them and not her.
The boys called for her to come in after two knocks. Tom was lying on his bed, head propped against the headboard, with a magazine while Bill was on the floor, at the foot of Tom’s bed, sketching. Her eyes darted back and forth between them, fingers tightening on the videos in her hands. What could she say? Staying frozen she continued to stare.
“Are you okay, mom?” Tom spoke first, sitting up, dropping the magazine closed next to him. She shook her head. Was she okay? Fuck no she was not okay. Receiving tapes of her two boys doing things had messed her up inside. She was so torn. She wanted to demand them tell her who had filmed them so she could seek vengeance. The other half of her, the more calm half, knew that if she started making demands of them, they’d clam up and feel blamed.
A situation such as this had to be handled delicately. Even if these traumatic events happened years ago and were no longer going on, they still happened, and the boys were still affected. Simone had a feeling that it was Bill who had been more broken by this than his brother. Her chin trembled as she looked at Bill, her youngest. He was so fragile. She couldn’t comprehend how someone could have done this to him. He was so much weaker than his brother. It clicked in her head; the timeframe of Bill’s withdrawn persona began at the same age as the films. Tears dampened her eyes as she looked at him. Would he ever forgive her for not seeing it? Not noticing that her children were crying out for help?
Bill glanced at Tom, who shrugged. He didn’t know what was wrong with their mom, either, but she was acting strange. “Mom?” Tom asked her, again, if she was okay. Head shaking back and forth, Simone tossed the videos onto the bed in front of Tom. Tom paled; he knew what those tapes were. How had his mother gotten a hold of them? He looked to Bill first then to his mother. Not knowing what to say to her, he just shook his head as their eyes were glued to each other.
Bill came to his knees on the floor just staring at the tapes. He remembered them, how could he have forgotten? His mouth fell open as he realized his mother had watched the tapes. He began hyperventilating as he looked up at her, stricken. He couldn’t help himself and started crying, apologies flying over his lips faster than he could speak, begging forgiveness.
Simone couldn’t take it. Her son was apologizing for having been abused. Bill was falling apart in front of her, sobbing apologies at her, and none of it had been his fault. Of that, she was convinced. She turned and walked out of the room without saying anything to the boys.
“Mom! Mom, wait, I’m sorry! Please, I never meant...” Bill was screaming as she left. He kept repeating how sorry he was, how ashamed. He begged for her forgiveness. Tom remained silent on the bed, picking at his nails, chewing on his lip ring, just watching. Their mom knew now, that Tom was unable to protect Bill from the monster. Looking back to his brother, hugging himself on the floor and crying silently, Tom could only put all the blame on himself.
That was not how Simone had planned going in there. Guilt overrode every other emotion inside her body and she ran to the bathroom. She heaved over the toilet for several minutes, nothing but more guilt coming up. Flushing her spit away, she sat back against the wall trying to gain composure. They needed to talk. They needed to have a family meeting, and no matter how awkward or uncomfortable, they needed to get to the bottom of this issue. She had no clue how to help her boys and for that, she felt like the worst mother in the world. Mothers were supposed to protect their children and she’d failed them. Simone wrapped her arms tight around herself and cried. She cried for her twins, for their pain, and for her own guilt taunting her in the back of her mind. Strength was what she needed for this, so she prayed. Forgiveness for her blind sight is what she wanted, so for that, too, she prayed sitting on the bathroom floor, hugging herself.
-Jax-