Tokio Hotel: Sex, Lies, & Videotape 3/??
Title: Sex, Lies, & Videotape: Chapter 3/20(ish) - Secrets
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): 2329
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.
Against her better judgment, Simone opted to watch a new video when it arrived in its tacky brown mailing envelope a couple days later. She hadn’t seen or spoken to the twins since the disaster of her attempted talk. She wasn’t sure, now, how to approach them at all, so she’d been avoiding them both. They were avoiding her as well, staying out past dinner and leaving in the early mornings before Simone was even finished getting ready for work. The pattern was the same as when the boys were younger, right after she had pulled them out of school for their constant fights and visits to the office.
Simone put the video into the player after entering the house; she took a step back to watch the scene begin. The boys were older, she noticed right off, fourteen, maybe fifteen. There was a tiny spark inside her soul that was relieved that the boys were older, but that flame was snubbed out as soon as she realized that the abuse had obviously gone on for more than a year. Maybe the abuse was still even going on. Swallowing past the thickness in her throat, she took deep breaths through her nose and watched the boys arrange themselves on the bed on her television screen.
The sheets were black this time, and shiny. Satin? Silk? Were the sheets the boys were crawling over silk? She felt sick to her stomach. A thought occurred to her as she looked at the new, more expensive, setting the twins were in and her blood ran cold. Had these videos been sold to other perverts with a taste for young boys? She paled, combing her fingers through her hair roughly. Were her kids some of the ones that people were referring to when they spoke of child pornography? Had her children become a statistic for abuse and neglect? Guilt was choking her and she wanted to shut the tape off. She closed her eyes and listened to the instructions from the man to her children. If she didn’t have the courage to watch, she’d force herself to at least listen.
The boys moved around silently as the instructions directed their positioning. The man wanted Bill under Tom and wanted Tom to kneel between his brother’s legs. The boys were fully clothed and did as they were told. Neither boy looked at the camera, or the man behind it, as they went from sitting side-by-side to Bill outstretched on the bed with Tom between his legs. The twins stared at one another as they awaited more instructions and Bill started sniffling. This was so wrong and he didn’t know how to stop it. Tears began slipping from Bill’s eyes and Tom wanted to wipe them away. It was killing him to see his brother a mess.
Tom was the older twin; he was supposed to keep Bill protected, and loved, and safe. Being the one to cause the pain in Bill’s heart, body, and mind was devastating. Doing this to his brother was tearing him up inside; he hated it. Most of all, he hated the man filming them and he wished he was strong enough to stand up for them, especially Bill. He wished he was brave enough to tell the man to go to Hell and take his perverseness with him.
Simone cringed as she heard a zipper being undone. She knew exactly where this tape was going but she couldn’t bring herself to turn it off. Her insides twisted as she listened to Bill’s sniffling and she wanted to cry right along with him. The swish of fabric sliding down skin invaded her ears and she covered her eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, she forced herself to continue listening to her poor boys’ abuse.
The man filming them was breathing heavy, his puffs of air could be heard over Bill’s whimpering. The man whispered encouragement and Bill made a soft gasp. Simone opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. Tom’s mouth was covering Bill’s penis and Bill’s fingers were twisted in Tom’s dreads. She hit the VCR so hard it toppled off the entertainment center, the video ejecting on its own accord.
Simone was in shock, she figured, because she couldn’t pinpoint her emotions. There were too many floating in and out of her to decide which one she was. She picked up the abandoned tape and left the VCR on the floor. She made her way to the kitchen, thinking about ways to talk to the twins. Things needed to be handled a lot better than last time, and she wasn’t sure how to not have a repeat.
Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, Simone set the tape on the counter and reached for a bottle of wine on a display rack near the fridge. After pouring a decent amount into the glass, she leant her hips against the counter’s edge. She still had absolutely no idea what to say. An apology was in order from her, that much she knew. Finishing the glass of wine, she took a breath and decided to just go talk with them. After pouring another glass of wine to take with her upstairs, she grabbed the video and walked slowly towards the twins’ bedroom.
Simone entered the room without knocking, unsure if the boys were even home after they’d put so much effort into avoiding her. The boys were, in fact, home and Bill sat in the far corner of the room, sketchbook open on his lap, his hand moving furiously over the page. Tom was sitting at the desk directly across from him in the other corner of the room. He had a knife in his hand and was carving into the desk with precision. They both looked at her as she sat on the edge of Bill’s bed. It was evident in their mirrored expressions that they still thought she blamed them for the videos.
“Boys, I--” Simone started, but trailed off; she didn’t know where to go after she apologized. How could she even attempt to make things up to them? There was nothing she could do to ease the pain she knew they both carried inside themselves. Nothing she said to them in that moment would erase the past or make it better. The boys stared at her, waiting patiently for her to continue. Simone glanced at Bill and met his eyes, he was about to cry, she could tell. Ever since he was little, she and Tom, both, had been able to tell when Bill was about to tear up. She couldn’t pinpoint what told her that he was about to cry, but whatever it was, was there in his eyes and face now. He always just had this look deep inside that would show through his eyes, even if he was smiling brightly at them.
“Mom, those tapes--” Tom tried to explain and Simone held up a hand interrupting him. She wanted to apologise before anything else was said. The apology she had forming in her mind needed to be heard by the boys before explanations were made and questions were asked. She especially wanted them to know how sorry she was about running out on them the day she gave them the first videos.
Clearing her throat, she began again, this time managing to get out an unsteady, but determined apology. Mostly directed at Bill, she apologized for running out on them the other day. Simone fiddled with the hem of her shirt as she expressed her guilt for being so blind to the abuse, and for not being able to help them.
Wiping at a few tears that escaped her eyes, Simone asked the questions that were burning inside her. How long had the abuse been going on, and was it still continuing? When did it start? Who had forced them to do those things?
At the start of her questions, Bill had looked away to his notebook and resumed his drawing, tears flowing freely. He did not want to talk about this with his mother. He didn’t even want to talk about it with Tom. Bill wanted to forget it had ever happened to them. Scribbling over the paper, more than drawing anything tangible, Bill could feel Tom’s eyes on him while their mother threw questions out as gently as possible. He continued drawing; he couldn’t meet Tom’s eyes.
Tom turned around in his chair, his focus leaving Bill and landing on their mother. The fierceness in his eyes made Simone twitch on the edge of Bill’s bed. She couldn’t understand the anger he was directing towards her, she was trying to help them and be their mother. “It’s in the past. We don’t need to talk about it.” He stated, interrupting her questions. What he meant was Bill didn’t need to talk about it. Tom glanced at Bill in the corner where he was still drawing, all of his attention on the small sheet of paper that was quickly becoming nothing but a black smear.
“But, Tom, why didn’t you tell me?” Simone asked with a little more force. She was their mother. She could have at least tried to help them, but they hadn’t even let her know anything was wrong.
Tom turned his back on her and picked his knife back up, “there’s really nothing you could have done to change anything.” There was nothing any of them could have done to make it stop, he had tried. He’d been beaten bloody on a number of occasions trying to stop it, trying to protect Bill from the evil.
Simone wasn’t satisfied; if she was going to continue to receive videos of her twins together, she wanted some answers. Was the abuse still continuing? Were they still being abused and forced into doing despicable acts with each other for a perverse man? Neither twin looked at her, but both shook their heads. No, it was over, they’d been set free of the torture. More questions came from Simone and Tom was the only one willing to answer anything. However, he didn’t volunteer any more information than a direct answer to her question.
“Who did this to you, Tom?” She asked, the silence felt like shards of glass cutting through her skin after asking. No one would answer her. Tom sat with his back hunched, carving into the desk with angry stabs. Simone could tell her twins were very upset, but neither one would let her try and help them. It was their secret to keep. Their horrors to hide. She sighed on the bed and asked one more time, this time directing the question at Bill. Bill didn’t look at her, but he shook his head back and forth quickly, more tears forming in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. He dropped his sketchbook to the floor next to him and hugged his legs, hiding his face in his knees. There was no way he was going to give her any answers. Simone wanted to hug him, wrap him in her arms and tell him the boogey man wasn’t real. But, to Bill and Tom, he had been very real.
After her final question of whom, the twins closed off completely. Even Tom was now ignoring her presence and not speaking. He continued making deep curvatures in the desk, while Bill kept his shivering body in as tight of a ball as possible. Simone had no idea what to do for her children. It would be like hitting her head against a brick wall if she continued with any more questions. She knew her boys were stubborn, and something like this, they did not want to talk about. Simone couldn’t blame them; it was probably one of the hardest things in the world for her to talk about with them, so she couldn’t imagine how they must feel.
Simone stood, leaving the video at the bottom of Bill’s bed, lying alone on the comforter. She walked out their door and, just before closing it, she apologized one last time. There weren’t enough apologies in the world to make up for how she’d neglected them, in her mind.
When she left the room, Tom looked at Bill. He was still hugging his legs, his body still shaking, and his face still buried in the soft cotton of his pajama bottoms. Tom studied him, took in every detail on his body. He noticed how Bill’s hair was loose and uncombed, the pajamas were the same as the previous day and Tom had noticed earlier that Bill had failed to put on makeup. His baby brother was slowly chipping inside. The pieces that had been glued together lopsidedly and with a lot of care and effort on the part of both twins were coming undone. The years of locking the demons in the closet that had built a small wall around them were meaningless. Their world was shattering around them.
Bill looked up from his knees and met Tom’s eyes. “Stop staring at me.” Those were the first words Bill had spoken to him since his breakdown a few days before. Tom was beginning to wonder if Bill, too, blamed the entire thing on him. Aren’t big brothers supposed to protect their younger siblings? Tom had failed Bill. He’d failed to protect him from the monsters and he’d failed in trying to keep him whole after the monsters had tried to eat his soul. Maybe Tom wasn’t cut out to be Bill’s big brother, even if that title was only a technicality of ten measly minutes.
Bill broke their staring match and laid his head on his knees again. Tom twisted in his seat to examine his handiwork on the desk. He’d carved his brother’s name into the desk and hadn’t realized it. Using the knife he’d used to carve them unknowingly, he began scraping pictures into and around the letters, disguising them.
-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): 2329
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.
Against her better judgment, Simone opted to watch a new video when it arrived in its tacky brown mailing envelope a couple days later. She hadn’t seen or spoken to the twins since the disaster of her attempted talk. She wasn’t sure, now, how to approach them at all, so she’d been avoiding them both. They were avoiding her as well, staying out past dinner and leaving in the early mornings before Simone was even finished getting ready for work. The pattern was the same as when the boys were younger, right after she had pulled them out of school for their constant fights and visits to the office.
Simone put the video into the player after entering the house; she took a step back to watch the scene begin. The boys were older, she noticed right off, fourteen, maybe fifteen. There was a tiny spark inside her soul that was relieved that the boys were older, but that flame was snubbed out as soon as she realized that the abuse had obviously gone on for more than a year. Maybe the abuse was still even going on. Swallowing past the thickness in her throat, she took deep breaths through her nose and watched the boys arrange themselves on the bed on her television screen.
The sheets were black this time, and shiny. Satin? Silk? Were the sheets the boys were crawling over silk? She felt sick to her stomach. A thought occurred to her as she looked at the new, more expensive, setting the twins were in and her blood ran cold. Had these videos been sold to other perverts with a taste for young boys? She paled, combing her fingers through her hair roughly. Were her kids some of the ones that people were referring to when they spoke of child pornography? Had her children become a statistic for abuse and neglect? Guilt was choking her and she wanted to shut the tape off. She closed her eyes and listened to the instructions from the man to her children. If she didn’t have the courage to watch, she’d force herself to at least listen.
The boys moved around silently as the instructions directed their positioning. The man wanted Bill under Tom and wanted Tom to kneel between his brother’s legs. The boys were fully clothed and did as they were told. Neither boy looked at the camera, or the man behind it, as they went from sitting side-by-side to Bill outstretched on the bed with Tom between his legs. The twins stared at one another as they awaited more instructions and Bill started sniffling. This was so wrong and he didn’t know how to stop it. Tears began slipping from Bill’s eyes and Tom wanted to wipe them away. It was killing him to see his brother a mess.
Tom was the older twin; he was supposed to keep Bill protected, and loved, and safe. Being the one to cause the pain in Bill’s heart, body, and mind was devastating. Doing this to his brother was tearing him up inside; he hated it. Most of all, he hated the man filming them and he wished he was strong enough to stand up for them, especially Bill. He wished he was brave enough to tell the man to go to Hell and take his perverseness with him.
Simone cringed as she heard a zipper being undone. She knew exactly where this tape was going but she couldn’t bring herself to turn it off. Her insides twisted as she listened to Bill’s sniffling and she wanted to cry right along with him. The swish of fabric sliding down skin invaded her ears and she covered her eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, she forced herself to continue listening to her poor boys’ abuse.
The man filming them was breathing heavy, his puffs of air could be heard over Bill’s whimpering. The man whispered encouragement and Bill made a soft gasp. Simone opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. Tom’s mouth was covering Bill’s penis and Bill’s fingers were twisted in Tom’s dreads. She hit the VCR so hard it toppled off the entertainment center, the video ejecting on its own accord.
Simone was in shock, she figured, because she couldn’t pinpoint her emotions. There were too many floating in and out of her to decide which one she was. She picked up the abandoned tape and left the VCR on the floor. She made her way to the kitchen, thinking about ways to talk to the twins. Things needed to be handled a lot better than last time, and she wasn’t sure how to not have a repeat.
Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, Simone set the tape on the counter and reached for a bottle of wine on a display rack near the fridge. After pouring a decent amount into the glass, she leant her hips against the counter’s edge. She still had absolutely no idea what to say. An apology was in order from her, that much she knew. Finishing the glass of wine, she took a breath and decided to just go talk with them. After pouring another glass of wine to take with her upstairs, she grabbed the video and walked slowly towards the twins’ bedroom.
Simone entered the room without knocking, unsure if the boys were even home after they’d put so much effort into avoiding her. The boys were, in fact, home and Bill sat in the far corner of the room, sketchbook open on his lap, his hand moving furiously over the page. Tom was sitting at the desk directly across from him in the other corner of the room. He had a knife in his hand and was carving into the desk with precision. They both looked at her as she sat on the edge of Bill’s bed. It was evident in their mirrored expressions that they still thought she blamed them for the videos.
“Boys, I--” Simone started, but trailed off; she didn’t know where to go after she apologized. How could she even attempt to make things up to them? There was nothing she could do to ease the pain she knew they both carried inside themselves. Nothing she said to them in that moment would erase the past or make it better. The boys stared at her, waiting patiently for her to continue. Simone glanced at Bill and met his eyes, he was about to cry, she could tell. Ever since he was little, she and Tom, both, had been able to tell when Bill was about to tear up. She couldn’t pinpoint what told her that he was about to cry, but whatever it was, was there in his eyes and face now. He always just had this look deep inside that would show through his eyes, even if he was smiling brightly at them.
“Mom, those tapes--” Tom tried to explain and Simone held up a hand interrupting him. She wanted to apologise before anything else was said. The apology she had forming in her mind needed to be heard by the boys before explanations were made and questions were asked. She especially wanted them to know how sorry she was about running out on them the day she gave them the first videos.
Clearing her throat, she began again, this time managing to get out an unsteady, but determined apology. Mostly directed at Bill, she apologized for running out on them the other day. Simone fiddled with the hem of her shirt as she expressed her guilt for being so blind to the abuse, and for not being able to help them.
Wiping at a few tears that escaped her eyes, Simone asked the questions that were burning inside her. How long had the abuse been going on, and was it still continuing? When did it start? Who had forced them to do those things?
At the start of her questions, Bill had looked away to his notebook and resumed his drawing, tears flowing freely. He did not want to talk about this with his mother. He didn’t even want to talk about it with Tom. Bill wanted to forget it had ever happened to them. Scribbling over the paper, more than drawing anything tangible, Bill could feel Tom’s eyes on him while their mother threw questions out as gently as possible. He continued drawing; he couldn’t meet Tom’s eyes.
Tom turned around in his chair, his focus leaving Bill and landing on their mother. The fierceness in his eyes made Simone twitch on the edge of Bill’s bed. She couldn’t understand the anger he was directing towards her, she was trying to help them and be their mother. “It’s in the past. We don’t need to talk about it.” He stated, interrupting her questions. What he meant was Bill didn’t need to talk about it. Tom glanced at Bill in the corner where he was still drawing, all of his attention on the small sheet of paper that was quickly becoming nothing but a black smear.
“But, Tom, why didn’t you tell me?” Simone asked with a little more force. She was their mother. She could have at least tried to help them, but they hadn’t even let her know anything was wrong.
Tom turned his back on her and picked his knife back up, “there’s really nothing you could have done to change anything.” There was nothing any of them could have done to make it stop, he had tried. He’d been beaten bloody on a number of occasions trying to stop it, trying to protect Bill from the evil.
Simone wasn’t satisfied; if she was going to continue to receive videos of her twins together, she wanted some answers. Was the abuse still continuing? Were they still being abused and forced into doing despicable acts with each other for a perverse man? Neither twin looked at her, but both shook their heads. No, it was over, they’d been set free of the torture. More questions came from Simone and Tom was the only one willing to answer anything. However, he didn’t volunteer any more information than a direct answer to her question.
“Who did this to you, Tom?” She asked, the silence felt like shards of glass cutting through her skin after asking. No one would answer her. Tom sat with his back hunched, carving into the desk with angry stabs. Simone could tell her twins were very upset, but neither one would let her try and help them. It was their secret to keep. Their horrors to hide. She sighed on the bed and asked one more time, this time directing the question at Bill. Bill didn’t look at her, but he shook his head back and forth quickly, more tears forming in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. He dropped his sketchbook to the floor next to him and hugged his legs, hiding his face in his knees. There was no way he was going to give her any answers. Simone wanted to hug him, wrap him in her arms and tell him the boogey man wasn’t real. But, to Bill and Tom, he had been very real.
After her final question of whom, the twins closed off completely. Even Tom was now ignoring her presence and not speaking. He continued making deep curvatures in the desk, while Bill kept his shivering body in as tight of a ball as possible. Simone had no idea what to do for her children. It would be like hitting her head against a brick wall if she continued with any more questions. She knew her boys were stubborn, and something like this, they did not want to talk about. Simone couldn’t blame them; it was probably one of the hardest things in the world for her to talk about with them, so she couldn’t imagine how they must feel.
Simone stood, leaving the video at the bottom of Bill’s bed, lying alone on the comforter. She walked out their door and, just before closing it, she apologized one last time. There weren’t enough apologies in the world to make up for how she’d neglected them, in her mind.
When she left the room, Tom looked at Bill. He was still hugging his legs, his body still shaking, and his face still buried in the soft cotton of his pajama bottoms. Tom studied him, took in every detail on his body. He noticed how Bill’s hair was loose and uncombed, the pajamas were the same as the previous day and Tom had noticed earlier that Bill had failed to put on makeup. His baby brother was slowly chipping inside. The pieces that had been glued together lopsidedly and with a lot of care and effort on the part of both twins were coming undone. The years of locking the demons in the closet that had built a small wall around them were meaningless. Their world was shattering around them.
Bill looked up from his knees and met Tom’s eyes. “Stop staring at me.” Those were the first words Bill had spoken to him since his breakdown a few days before. Tom was beginning to wonder if Bill, too, blamed the entire thing on him. Aren’t big brothers supposed to protect their younger siblings? Tom had failed Bill. He’d failed to protect him from the monsters and he’d failed in trying to keep him whole after the monsters had tried to eat his soul. Maybe Tom wasn’t cut out to be Bill’s big brother, even if that title was only a technicality of ten measly minutes.
Bill broke their staring match and laid his head on his knees again. Tom twisted in his seat to examine his handiwork on the desk. He’d carved his brother’s name into the desk and hadn’t realized it. Using the knife he’d used to carve them unknowingly, he began scraping pictures into and around the letters, disguising them.
-Jax-