safe here [shiro/reader]

chapter one: yellow

>> a/n: this is my first fanfic! pls give me constructive criticism!

>> guide: [y/n] = your name

                    [l/n] = last name

                    [s/c] = skin color

                    [h/c] = hair color

~~~

[YOUR POV - 2 years before Voltron forms]

"Hey Mommy, what are these flowers called?"

"Those are yellow poppies, [y/n]! Aren't they sweet? There are so many variations of colors, but this one's yellow -- my favorite! There are red ones and purple ones too, did you know that?" Your mother beamed. "They're so bright and pretty, just like you." You felt her smooth, [s/c] skin wrap around your arms, enveloping you in her warmth.

She laughed, and the sound resonated through your ears like peaceful ambience. Her lovely smile-filled face quickly turned into a pondering expression. You found it adorable, her ability to change expressions so quickly. "You know, maybe I should've named you Poppy instead."

"No, no, Mommy. I like [y/n]. It's the one you and Daddy gave me! It's perfect," you giggled, your face practically glowing with glee as you lifted up your handful of poppies to your mother's nose to smell. "You're perfect!"

"So are you, [y/n]. So are you."

"I love you, Mommy."

-

You felt something hard kick you in the stomach.

You jolted awake reluctantly, out of the comfort of a once-in-a-lifetime dream and into the cramped and cold setting of the Galran prison ship. Sitting up, your sweaty, sticky skin stuck to the metal flooring before it retracted back to your arm -- a side effect of dehydration and not showering for seven years.

There was a pause. Everything seemed so surreal after you had that dream. It took you a moment to realize who it was who kicked you.

"Y-yes? May I help you?" you managed to squeak out in a weak voice. Your throat was raspy from yesterday's screaming and a lack of water, which you also forgot about.

Looming above you was a Galran soldier -- a purple haired, yellow eyed monster with a knife in its hand and a gun at your throat. You didn't dare meet its eyes. It's yellow, menacing eyes. God, how you hated that color.

"Haggar wants to see you."

You blinked. Your... "sessions" with Haggar were usually every other day -- which more frequent and regular than anyone else's that you've seen on the ship. Then again, you weren't told to fight. In fact, you weren't told to do anything besides sit in your cell and stare at the walls. It was like you were her ultimate toy, using you whenever she wanted to. You were wondering when she'd make the "appointments" every day -- guess it's time.

"I said, Haggar wants to see you. Don't make me repeat myself, you useless whore."

You swallowed hard. "Whore". You looked up at the soldier and studied its face, careful not to look into its yellow eyes. It had a broken nose and a mouth cut off by a scar at the very end of its lip. It was the soldier who..."assaulted" you the other day.

Day? Or was it night? The afternoon? You didn't know and you didn't care. Seven years on this hellish airship was filled with worrying about your life, not worrying about the time. No prisoner on this ship had the effort to keep track of whatever the hell time it was.

You don't even know what "yesterday" is anymore. No one on this ship cares about what yesterday was -- everyone here is focused on the present and future.

"How much longer are you going to make me wait? I'm a pretty patient guy, but you wouldn't want that to happen again, would you?" the Galran soldier smirked and tugged at its belt. "Of course, I wouldn't mind."

Your eyes widened and you stood up hastily, almost collapsing back onto the floor. Three days of no food was really getting to you.

"Pl-please take me to H-Haggar."

The soldier opened the cell's door and the two of you made your way down the hallway. Your entire body trembled as you lifted your leg to take another step forward, then another, then another. You were weak from malnourishment and had a migraine from dehydration. Plus, you had stitches all over your body from yesterday's... "event". What else could Haggar possibly want?

Then again, you didn't think you could muster up the energy to care. To feel. When did you first forget the feeling of happiness? Of giddiness? Of awe or amusement or embarrassment? Was it the first trip to Haggar's, all those years ago? Or was it when you were first locked into that isolated cell, away from the other prisoners, and you didn't even know why? Or was it when your mother, when she...?

"We're here. Get in." He opened the door to Haggar's room and nudged at your back with his gun.

"Get in...?"

You were confused. Wasn't he supposed to strap you down and stay to watch you until Haggar arrived? You turned around and forced yourself to meet his ever-yellow eyes.

"Aren't you supp--"

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt the imprint of a shoe on your chest, pushing the air out of your lungs. You gasped at the sudden impact and tumbled down to twenty feet below, where you heard the loud thud of body against flooring before your vision turned black.