AN: Decided to claim some old fills from kink memes I've participated in over the years, and archive them here for old times' sake. This was written way back in 2010 (ha!) for the disney kink meme on Livejournal. The prompt was for creepy, brainwashed Buzz, based on the third movie.
Pliable
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He is perfect. In mint condition, rigid and attentive stature, his face holding a solemn, blank expression untainted by even the faintest glimmer of recognition, although his friends stand before him.
"Buzz?" Jessie asks tentatively, taking a step towards him and reaching out a hand, her eyes darting nervously back and forth as she seeks out something in his empty expression. Then again, louder - "BUZZ!" a high-pitched cry that breaks into a half-sob and echoes, shattering, against the ceiling.
Lotso sneers at her with cold disdain. How foolish, to think that she can get through to him just by calling his name. They followed the manual exactly and a reset isn't something so easily undone. But let her try, Lotso thinks, and watch her fall to her knees under the weight of her failure.
His lip curls in a smirk at the thought - the space ranger, so proud and so eager to please; why, all of the things Lotso could make him do with just a simple command. Hurt his friends, break off an arm or two...
Buzz hasn't moved an inch throughout this entire scene. His shoulders are stiff, tense, ready to spring to attention at the sound of Lotso's voice.
"Lightyear," he drawls, "don't let this cowgirl bother you."
"Buzz," Jessie whispers hoarsely. "It's us. Don't you remember us... me? Don't listen to him!" she hisses this last part over Buzz's shoulder, eyes narrowed. Lotso grins, which infuriates her further.
"Quiet, temptress." Even Buzz's voice is robotic, devoid of any emotion as he addresses her sharply. "You comply with Lotso or suffer the consequences, all of you."
The other toys gasp, hardly able to believe it. Each meets his gaze in turn and shudders, looking away as though that intense blue-eyed stare might freeze them.
And finally, Lotso issues the order that has the stunned toys, sapped of their will to fight, frogmarched away. Watching Buzz's retreating back as he cuts across the room in steady, even strides, he laughs at the irony of Buzz commanding with such authority when he, too, is under command, wonderfully pliable in Lotso's all-controlling hands.
The evening stretches out before them, fraught with possibilities of terror parcelled up like frightened toys in cages.