A/N: Not sure what I'm going to be doing with this-the updates will probably be slow until I finish what's been going for a while. This is a loose adaptation of "Lolita", a famous erotic novel by Vladimir Nabokov. Never read it? You should. There's also an amazing movie to watch. I won't spoil the plot details but this may be my darkest story yet and will explore the depths of men like Humbert (who will be represented by Gohan) and the motivations of girls like Lolita (who will be represented by Bulla). This isn't going to be a typical fighting/punching/big bad guy DBZ fanfic. And yes, Gohan is the main character instead of Goku. If you read "Lolita" you would know why. Goku is the utter opposite of Humbert so he just wasn't a match.

Warnings: Sexual content, swearing; general darkfic issues.

Pairings: Gohan/Bulla; otherwise all canon.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything affiliated with it.

-MalRev

"It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight."
― Vladimir Nabokov, "Lolita"

Rust & Stardust

::Une ::

Regret is my creeping demon.

It was my constant companion for all those years, clinging to my shoulders; clawing duvets into my hunched shoulders as I printed my darkest secrets with a quill pen. The fire flickered beside me, casting shadows across the walls and I struggled with my shame but the monster never left my side. It whispered memories, reminding me of my failures and faults, of all the shattered promises and towns left behind in my old home. No amount of journaling ever set me free.

I hurled my quill into its inkpot, splattering my desk in black spots that reflected the image of me clawing desperately at my back to detach my demon. Years had passed. I remained a prisoner to my own soul and the sins I had committed. She was long gone and grown, living with another man while I remained with my own new family, somehow hiding my inner demons from my wife and child.

A sliver of light was cast across the floor and I whirled around to see my daughter in the doorframe. Her dark eyes widened with fear and she shrank back, hiding from my fury. But she was free from my influence. Her blackened eyes did not stir my heart in the way that blue did. Oh what I would have done to see those blue eyes looking up at me again. I would gladly sacrifice my home and possessions.

Agitated, I cleared my throat and plucked my glasses from the desk. I sat down, immediately turning my back to her and closing my journal. "What do you need?"

My hastily construed family could be pulled apart at the seams like a cheaply made sweater. There was no sort of connection between the three of us. My wife knew she was a trophy to display around other men; something to keep them from asking questions. The small child quivering at the entrance to my study was another part of the charade. My passions were elsewhere.

"Mommy said dinner is ready," the child said softly.

"Fine."

There was a brief pause before the door shut, shrouding me in darkness once again.

I leaned my head in my hands and closed my eyes to think back to before I met the seductress. There was an inciting incident that drove me to an interest in nymphets; those gloriously tempting girls who weren't quite developed into women. It was a loss. The psychiatric help I sought told me that much, though he didn't have anything else to contribute. I was a leper in my developed society.

All I could remember was a girl I encountered during childhood named Lime. We had been fast friends, curious and exploratory, and on the cusp of puberty. Experimentation became our favorite pastime and the image of her blue irises was forever imprinted on my mind. We would bathe in the lake to avoid detection by our parents, washing away the smells and touches we had given one another.

It had been innocent curiosity. Mine did not fade as I grew into adulthood. Lime became violently ill and died very suddenly, leaving me with unanswered questions and lonely afternoons. I followed the path outlined by my mother and became an accomplished scholar who languished through a failed marriage that left me homeless. My mother suggested a familiar face to allow me a warm bed to sleep in and it was where I laid eyes upon the blue-haired, rebellious, fatherless Bulla Briefs.