Disclaimer: This is my first Aladdin fic. The pairing is a one-sided Jafar/Jasmine. (Jafar's unhealthy obsession). Inspired by the musical Sweeney Todd and the sexual predator Judge Turpin and his lust for the young Johanna (greatly displayed in Judge Turpin's version of the song "Johanna"). Very dark fic.
I will say now that I do not promote Jafar's actions. I merely want to create a fic demonstrating a rather canon take on the pairing, however negative it be.
Rating: PG-13 for lust, self-flagellation, and murder.
Furthermore: Listening to "Johanna" or reading the lyrics would be cool.
Takes place during the first Aladdin film.
Again. Stick it in. Feel it prickle. Feel it bleed. Tug. Rip. Feel it tear. Snap it out. It cracks. Again. Smack it on. Feel it catch. Feel it ooze. Tug! Cut the welts. Snap it out!
And wait. Wait until the ability to tug is gone. Grit the teeth. Lie in the blood. Crawl to the salt waters of the bath. Feel it sting. Drink the potion. Get dressed.
I wasn't always this way. There was time when I happily served in the palace, proud to create just laws, proud to walk through the streets and have people gently bow their heads. I was justice incarnate. I was contented.
Then one night. The night where I visited Rajah Bimmy's brothel. Where the pretty girl who picks the handkerchief up served me. The pretty girl who picks the handkerchief up with her teeth.
Heathen incense from all around the world. Forbidden wines. They were all mine. And childish myths of a Cave of Wonders.
I frequently the brothel. And in the unholy ebony and crimson I transformed. The justice is a laughable memory. Oh, and the pretty girl who picks the handkerchief up. With her teeth. She was mine. She wore nearly nothing. Loose red pants about her legs made out of the finest scarves. He chest was barely covered, red silk of a strange cut. I saw the forbidden female form and she writhed about me whenever I requested. I gave her gold; she gave me her unholy world.
And that is what I am. Unholy.That is why I…. why I cannot stand it. Instead of seeing a princess, I see a pretty girl. A pretty girl in almost a blue harem outfit. Soon she will pick the –
Crack! Snap! Dig it in! Tug at it! Make welts! Burst them! Sharpen the hooks. Elongate them! Smack! Throw it in! Cut! Bleed!
I was just. I was virtuous. I would address the Sultan. I was his confidante. I became his friend. I was his vizier. I was trusted. I made the kingdom strong.
I watched his daughter play. The Princess. Now all I see is—
Sink it in! Tear the skin! Muscle! Rip it! Nerve! Grit your teeth!
She was turning thirteen. I wasstill pious. I arranged men to visit her.But what I did not farrange at the time was a parrot that led me to Bimmy, that led me to the forbidden—
Bleed! Bite your cheeks! No one will hear a scream! Again! Tug it out!
I had given her a tiger. She asked me for a name. She was changing, no longer my daughter… I was changing...the word I muttered… and now I cannot stop!
No! No, it will stop… for a moment. I'll make it stop.
I had given her a tiger. A blasphemous prince came. He called himself Mohammed, what a vulture! I saw them from the garden. He laid his hands upon her. She let out a whimper.
I cursed the tiger, only a cub. He bit down. The prince bled. The Princess cried out my name. I led the unholy Mohammed to my private chambers, before I ever had my scourge, before I no longer saw a princess, only a pretty girl who –
Failure! Dig it in! Seek absolution! Grit your teeth!
I fixed him a potion; oh no doubt I was changing then! A knife behind me. He nursed his leg. His throat was bare.
The exaltation! One single stroke! He looked up at me and grabbed the air by his neck, trying to push away something that had floated by him. He touched his throat. I smiled. He gagged. I kicked him. He died. I laughed.
Oh, and I did this many times. Then I achieved my staff. I controlled Rajah to attack princes: this is now permanent.
Oh, how the years morphed! Once, I loved her as a daughter, but then, so suddenly she was a woman. Oh, a playful woman. She dressed in a scanty blue. Her father was oblivious. Oblivious to the law requiring veils. Oblivious to the fact that the sun shines and I can see the sun through her –
Salvation! Achieve it! Dig it in! Tear! Cut! Bleed! Again! Again!
I loved her as a child, now I want her as woman!
Depravation! Coldness! Be it! Never let them know! Tear! Again! Again!
The scarab pieces gave me an obsession. The lamp gives me something greater. Three wishes… oh, and if I rule. I'll make her wear veils.
No… make her wear scarves… Oh, she hates me. I made her. One has to be as venomous as a snake when they wish to conceal the unholiness within! When no one is close they never ask why your back is so destroyed! My parrot is not close to me! He hears it everyday and believes I flog a prisoner and the blood is of the prisoner!
Oh, life without a body close. A body. A beautiful body wearing blue. Wearing red. Wearing scarves. Wearing nothing! And writhing—
Stop! Heal it now. It passes.
Oh, the trouble of finding a prince for a shrew! Marrying off a beautiful bitch!
No, she can marry others. Royal officials. One who sees that the princes shall not suit her. Oh, she must be married by her next birthday, and she is so fickle. Oh, she will be wed, Iago, how you said it once!
Jasmine, I will wed you! You'll keep away from the sunlight, you'll stay in my chambers! You will wear red! And you will pick the handkerchief up with your teeth!
And you will end this torment.
(Please review, and make the flames constructive. I wrote this in one evening. Oh, and I did warn you about the flogging, lust, and murder. Hmm, wonder if self-flagellation was popular in the Middle East. I mean, it's in the Scarlet Letter, Judge Turpin did it in Sweeney Todd, and the title character did it in Tartuffe…)
Rajah Bimmy and the line "see the pretty girl who picks the handkerchief up with her teeth!" is from the musical On The Town. As of right now, Bimmy is just a name to me, but if it's really some ethnic slur I don't know about: I apologize.