2409: Five night’s with Foxy and Mike – Chapter 4Posted: August 23, 2019
—THIS POST CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT, WHILE NOT GRAPHIC OR EXPLICIT, MAY BE DISTURBING TO SOME PEOPLE—
—READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED––
:Ghostie drags herself into the Riffing Chamber and flops down at the desk:
Ughhhhh. I really need to stop checking on my old fics. It brings me nothing but pain.
:plucks a massive mug of something steaming out of the Formless Void:
So, as is often my habit, I did a quick scan through the abandoned fics in my Pile-o-Fail and wouldn’t you know it? It would seem that the author of the saga of Blind Mike the Robot Fondler, also known as “Five night’s with Foxy and Mike“, also known as the robo-molestation fic, updated with another chapter. Yay.
Not even this comically oversized mug full of Lina’s Black Death espresso can help me now.
It’s been close to two years since the last riff in the series, but the tl;dr version is that Blind Mike the Robot Fondler is have Adult Thoughts regarding Foxy, who is a busted-out wreck of a robot and is having a token internal conflict regarding said Adult Thoughts. There’s been
too much some touching, hence the nickname, and Blind Mike the Robot Fondler considers Foxy’s lack of negative response as consent – which is one hundred percent not how consent works. At all. Not even a little bit. Also the Author’s Notes keep promising that there’s going to be dick-insertion at some point, but there’s probably not going to be any dick-mangling. Maybe. Possibly. Almost definitely. I’m putting up a warning just in case.
Now, on to the fic. Such as it is.
It had been three days since mike started this job, and already his and Foxy’s relationship had become something of a weird fetishizing fanfiction.
Because it is very much one of those things. I don’t think we ever figured out exactly what fetish a fic featuring an antagonist fondling a broken, reeking, and inactive robot that is possibly inhabited by the spirit of a dead child in a filthy corner enclosed by badly stained curtains is supposed to be catering to, but it’s hopefully a niche one.
Foxy, as soon as the lights had gone out, had shown up in his security room and promptly sat himself down beside him and placed his head on Mike’s lap.
…I has the pronoun confusion. Also, Foxy is a robot and it is entirely possible that he could literally take off his head and put it in Blind Mike the Robot Fondler’s lap. I don’t really want to dwell on what would happen after that.
Mike kept a hand securely on the fox’s head at all times during his rounds between the cams, allowing himself to subtly interact with the robot without giving him his entire attention.
…I guess this could be an entirely innocent interaction, like when a cat jumps onto your lap while you’re reading and you just start petting them because that’s what you do when there’s a cat in your lap. I’m going to go with that because the alternative is just … ewwww.
“That is so precious.”
:Syl drops down out of the rafters, landing nimbly on the desk and striking a dramatic pose that is utterly ruined by the fact that she is dressed in a Taz onesie accessorized with turtle-shaped toe separators and bright pink foam curlers:
What the ever-loving hell?
“I was having a little me time when my robot porn senses went off.”
It could be an innocent interaction! The fic is vague enough that I can justify it.
:Syl pats Ghostie on the head:
“You just keep shining on, you crazy little diamond.”
If you’re going to stay, could you at least get off my frickin’ desk and sit down? You’re being a literal pain in my neck instead of a figurative one.
:Syl plops down in a massive black velvet beanbag that has suddenly always been there:
The other robots had really started to become active in the last few hours, and it was becoming a struggle to keep up with them.
“That’s what happens when you don’t properly stretch first. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been at an orgy only to see some poor idiot get carted off to the hospital because they’ve done damage to themselves.”
I seriously doubt that’s what the fic meant, but wow. I did not realize that orgies were so dangerous.
“Pro tip – Always bring more lubricant than you think you’ll need. Everyone appreciates it, and you can be very popular when word gets out that you have extra lubricant.”
I don’t think I’ll ever need that advice, but thank you?
It seemed they were becoming antsy about having not killed him already, coming out earlier and earlier every night.
“That’s the problem with kids these days. No stamina. Back in my millennium we knew how to pace ourselves so we could commit horrible murders and have plenty of time for debauchery.”
Night. The night before was certainly an experience, he supposed.
Ugh. I really don’t want to hear about this.
“Wait!” :takes out notepad and pencil: “Okay, I’m ready.”
Are you taking notes?!?
“The Sin Bin Brethren is busy but they wanted me to make a full report later after the darkwraith bikini pudding wrestling matches.”
…There’s a string of words I never thought I’d hear together.
:shrugs: “We have a lot of pudding sitting around, might as well put it to good use.”
I’m going to hate myself, but I have to know. Are the darkwraiths wearing the bikinis? How does that even work? And how do I get that image out of my brain?!?
“That was the idea, but then they started trying to put the bikinis on the pudding after it gained sentience and things escalated from there. They mean well, bless their soulless shriveled hearts.”
The same energy he felt then was now buzzing incessantly below his skin from where the other was in contact with him.
That’s probably an electrical shock from a loose wire due to the fact that you’re cuddling the severed head of a malfunctioning robot in your lap. In a totally platonic way, of course.
It made his thighs and hand go warm but Mike wasn’t in the right position and mind to really think about it.
“If you need suggestions, I have several.”
Is that why I keep finding folders on my computer labelled “suggestions” that are just full of smutty Sephiroth fanart?
“It’s not all Sephiroth; there’s some TMNT stuff in one of them that I got from Nina.”
“Ye don’t wants t’ die here, do ye?” Foxy’s sudden talk made mike jump in his seat, however, the heavy wait on his lap didn’t let him get too far.
Does anyone really want to die in a crappy theme restaurant? I know I’d much rather die at home, in bed, surrounded by cats.
“Smothered by cats, more than likely.”
At least I’m not stuck being you forever.
“Sweetcheeks, you couldn’t handle it. Being this awesome all the time is utterly exhausting.”
:Ghostie snorts espresso out of her nose:
“Ah, no, not really” Mike answered truthfully, it wasn’t hard to do so in this situation.
“I can guarantee there’s something hard in this situation.” :leans across the desk and whispers loudly to Ghostie: “I’m referring to his penis!”
Thank you, I got that.
“And Foxy will be getting it, too!”
“I’m still talking about his penis, in case you’re curious. I know you’re a bit rusty in that department.”
Can we not talk about rusty penises right now?
The anxieties of talking to other people doesn’t really translate when you’re simply talking to a robot.
A robot that you are strangely fixated on and have been having romantic – or at the very least lustful – feelings for. I would think that would make everything even more awkward.
“Ever the social butterfly, aren’t you?”
At least I don’t walk up to total strangers and stick my hands down their pants.
“That was one time, and there were extenuating circumstances; he was being very rude to that cashier and not listening to her very valid reasons for not taking that coupon. I find people are more polite and open to resolving conflicts through calm, rational discourse rather than hurling abuse like beads at a Mardi Gras parade when you have their genitals in your fist.”
…I can’t really argue with that logic. I want to, but I can’t.
But, even then, why would he lie about such a thing? Who would want to die here?
I don’t know about you but I’m kind of starting to lose the will to live.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help cheer you up.”
Now I’m definitely losing the will to live.
“Ye prolly will” Foxy sounded tired, as if it was already a truth. Mike didn’t like that.
I don’t think anyone would really like being told that they are going to die.
“Meh. You get used to it after a while.”
“I don’t think I’ll die if you stay with me,” he said, but Foxy never answered him, just shifted his head a little and made a small, sad sound in his voice box.
Why is Foxy moving Blind Mike the Robot Fondler’s head around? Is he trying to snap Blind Mike the Robot Fondler’s neck?
“Kinky. With my unfortunate condition I can’t go in for snuff play, but I hear it’s to die for.”
That was terrible and you should feel bad for saying it.
“Should, but don’t.”
Mike stared down at him, caressing his furred skull with the tips of his fingers.
“You’re getting that look I don’t like again.”
It’s just occurred to me that the animatronics’ heads are pretty hefty; they are large enough that the spring-trap versions could be worn by employees and presumably have all sorts of gizmos inside as well, so they are probably heavy. This scene is being treated as if it’s some sort of lazy, romantic partner interaction with one person laying down with their head in the other person’s lap while that person is preoccupied with something else…
“Instead of what they should be doing when they have a head in their lap.”
Anyway, there’s a very good chance that Foxy is causing some severe physical trauma to Blind Mike the Robot Fondler instead of just the emotional trauma the audience is getting.
He wondered how many night guards were there before him, he wondered how many people Marshal had seen the morning before and then never again. Whenever he saw Marshal in the morning there was always a brief moment of staring that he really should note more often. It was as if Marshal knew about what happened at night, and thus was surprised that he even survived.
“Marshal, you slut! Wait, who’s Marshal?”
Hold on, let me check my notes … Looks like Marshal is the day guard. They really haven’t had many interactions, but Marshal caught Blind Mike the Robot Fondler near Foxy’s alcove and was creepy about it.
“So … He’s going to be the villain of the piece?”
In all likelihood, yes. That’s assuming the author ever gets around to actually getting some conflict into the fic instead of just dishing out equal portions of Vague Spoopiness and Disturbing Fetish Fuel.
He’d ask the man, but, to be quite frank he didn’t enjoy being around him too much..
Dude, you do not want to start throwing stones in your glass house.
Mike stole a glance from the tablet screen to the small camera in the corner of the ceiling. The red light that indicated it was on blinked every few seconds. He wondered that if he looked at the footage taken on it, whether or not there would be footage of deaths on it of night guards before him. Or would the footage have been removed?
“To hell with the murders, is there any footage of robo-fucking?!?”
Considering that getting shoved inside one of the suits …
Stop that. Since it leads to instant death, they are likely one in the same.
He guessed it wasn’t live, since it wasn’t on his tablet, but… he didn’t know what was under the building.
That doesn’t necessarily mean it isn’t live, just that you don’t have access to it. That would make sense if the camera was there to monitor you while you work; it wouldn’t make any sense to give you access to the feed since that could lead to you altering or destroying the footage.
“Or making copies to share with friends with similar tastes in erotica.”
Or … that.
He had seen the doors that lead down to the basement before he came in last night,
Because it is totally normal to see a door before you arrive at the building where the door is supposed to be located.
“It is if that volatile fellow with the door launcher is around.”
Only if blushing is involved, though. I don’t think Blind Mike the Robot Fondler has done much blushing.
so he knew something was off about this place,
Exceptionally off. In so many meanings of the word.
but figuring it out was harder than it needed to be.
“I haven’t had that particular issue with any of my consorts, but there’s probably a lotion for that.”
He wanted to go down and check it out, maybe swindle Marshal into letting him borrow his master key set.
Wouldn’t Blind Mike the Robot Fondler have the same set of keys as the day guard?
“Bet you three of Contacts’ wallets that the clueless goosecap hasn’t even tried any of his keys to see if they work.”
I hadn’t thought of that. What makes you so sure?
“‘Cause I’ve never seen anyone so damned reluctant to stick something important into a convenient hole before.”
Though a small part of him also knew that Marshal didn’t have that specific key.
Because plot, or possibly kinky shenanigans.
“Why not both?”
For a minute he thought about whether or not the robots were meant to be guarding something underneath the pizzeria.
Not according to the established canon, but since the fic is mentioning it as a possibility then there probably is something that they are supposed to be guarding from the guard who was specifically hired to guard the building this secret thing is located in.
“I hope it’s a sex dungeon!”
You always hope it’s a sex dungeon.
“And the laws of probability tell me that one of these days I will be right.”
I don’t really think probability works like that.
Then he remembered he had a job to do, and closed the right door just in time to save himself from Chika.
Oh, right; the game mechanics that are still supposed to be happening. I got so distracted by the head-patting that I forgot that Blind Mike the Robot Fondler was still being threatened by the other animatronics.
Foxy lifted his head at this, giving some room for Mike’s blood to flow in his legs.
“Hey, didn’t you tell me that you’re supposed to leave the blood inside people in this dimension? I remember that from one of your little lectures.”
You are, and that goes for organs as well.
“I only took a few of the little ones. He’s never going to miss them.”
Right. Anyway, I guess this is the author admitting that Foxy’s head would be quite large and probably shouldn’t be left on Blind Mike the Robot Fondler’s lap for extended periods of time unless he’s in the mood for some soft tissue damage.
“No!” :sits bolt upright in the beanbag : “Some of my favorite soft tissue is in the lap area!”
While foxy and Chika were locked in a staring contest, Mike went back to looking at his tablet, both Freddie and Bonnie seemed to be in the kitchen.
I don’t think there are any working cameras in the kitchen area, so he shouldn’t be able to tell how many of the animatronics are there unless he’s checked all the other cameras and just assumes that’s where they are because they aren’t visible anywhere else.
He looked up and watched Chika disappear with a flicker of the light, before opening that door. Mike, suspicious, unlocked the tablet to see where she went.
“Why isn’t he just keeping the doors shut so he can snuggle with his merkin?”
Another game mechanic; you have to carefully ration your power so it doesn’t run out and leave you in the dark with murder-bots biting your face off. I don’t recall there ever being any mention of Blind Mike the Robot Fondler having to conserve energy for any reason, though, so I have no idea why he wouldn’t just lock the doors. Most likely it’s because it happens in the games.
She was in the kitchen.
It was 4am.
“When the craving calls, you’ve gotta answer.”
Anyone calls me at four in the morning, it better be because someone’s dead or dying.
It was a surprise when foxy stood, his heavy weight lifting from his thighs, mike was forced to tilt his head back to look up into the eyes of the taller.
Is it really too much to ask for grammatically complete sentences at the very least?
“You are a sweet, deluded fool and I love you for it.”
A deeper part of himself was expecting something, but he didn’t know what.
“I wasn’t picturing Mikey as a bottom, but I am now.”
I don’t know how you can picture him as anything since he’s just a big pile of vagueness, but whatever.
Foxy shifted slightly, and his blank eyes suddenly became scrutinizing.
“Uh-oh. I think Mikey hit the kill button.”
Probably not; I think Bifocals is the only person who installs kill buttons as a standard feature in everything.
“It does make getting a smoothie far more exciting.”
“What are you waiting for?” Mike asked defensively,. “What are you doing?” Foxy continued to stare, mouth hanging open slightly.
“He wants you to stick it in, you daft sausage! Honestly.”
Have you seen Foxy’s mouth?
I would not want that thing anywhere near my soft tissues.
“Do you know if the hook is detachable? Asking for a friend.”
You have no friends.
“Ye’re different from th’ other night guards” His grizzled voice flowed around the room before hanging in a pregnant silence.
Oh, I do not want to see the word pregnant in this fic.
Mike stared back, searching his eyes for something, anything, but finding nothing except judgement.
“Because you are a terrible lover and everyone is judging you for it. Harshly.”
“You said that before didn’t you? How am I different?” Mike was confused, he recalled how the other had told him that his touches were different, that even the way he looked at him was different. He had been so tired then, after foxy had touched his face. He barely remembered any of it.
I don’t really remember that either, but I don’t really want to go look it up so let’s just roll with it and assume inappropriate things were done on both sides.
“Not inappropriate enough, if you ask me. I can’t believe I left a perfectly good seaweed-wrapped wizard for this. He’s going to be pruney in all the places when I get back.”
:rubs forehead: Please tell me you didn’t kidnap Booky-dono again.
“No, I procured him. I don’t like to use the word ‘kidnap’, it has such negative connotations.”
“Ye’re treatin’ me like a person, as if I know wha’ ye’re doin’ t’ me.” Mike became even more confused at Foxy’s choice of wording.
Is Blind Mike the Robot Fondler confused because he wasn’t treating Foxy like a person, and in fact was sure Foxy didn’t know what was happening because the robot was deactivated at the time?
“Didn’t he slap a bear’s ass while he was at it?”
I think it was Freddy’s thigh, not his ass, but yes.
“That’s how I treat people.”
You’re also an immortal psychopathic asshole from another dimension with morals that are looser than quicksand, so I don’t think you can be used as a yardstick for normal human behaviours.
“You say the sweetest things.”
“I don’t…” he looked down at his tablet, the animatronics seemed to be giving the two space. Mike wondered briefly if they were just waiting for him to be distracted.
Or the author can only focus on one thing at the time and wants to get back to writing their fetish-fic without having the deal with the constant intrusion of anything resembling the canon or a cohesive plot.
“I don’t understand” he finished, still looking at the screen.
I’m having a hard time understanding Foxy as well. I think it’s the wonky pirate dialect.
“It’s pronounced ‘Free Trader’, my dear.”
“Aye ye do, don’t lie t’ me, Mike.” Foxy’s voice held a dangerous edge to it, causing Mike to involuntarily flinch and look up once more,.
I’d like to take this opportunity to remind our Patrons that this is supposed to be a Romance fic, which you can clearly see from all the secretive non-consensual groping and physical intimidation.
“Some people find intimidation romantic.”
Probably, but coupled…
Combined with everything else in the fic it is just creepy.
“Ye kissed ‘n touched me,” Mike blinked, he had hadn’t he?
Blinked? Probably. Everyone does it.
“I don’t think…”
HE’S TALKING ABOUT THE BLINKING!
The night before, shortly after foxy had first brought up the fact that he treated him differently. Even before that, mike had spoken to him during day mode, caressing his chest and thinking those dirty thoughts that even still occasionally came up fleetingly.
“I tried to tell you so.”
Why the sudden coyness? There’s been multiple chapters – three in-fic days’ worth – of Blind Mike the Robot Fondler having impure thoughts about Foxy and his janky busted-down animatronic body. And now it’s all being treated as some sort of revelation? Did the author forget what they had previously written?
“Would it surprise you if they did?”
No, not really. I’d want to forget this, too, if I could.
He felt filthy, like some kind of degenerate.
Do you really want to touch that? There’s no telling where it has been.
“I’m not squeamish.”
I was talking to Blind Mike the Robot Fondler.
“There must be something wrong with me” Mike mused, closing his eyes and leaning forward a bit in his chair.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing, dear.”
No doubt there is something wrong with Blind Mike the Robot Fondler, but I’m not exactly sure what the correct terminology would be. Mechaphilia, robophilia, some flavor of object sexuality – it’s probably one of those.
Foxy moved so that his slower stomach (or where it should have been) was pressing against his forehead, it was strangely warm.
I don’t think even robots are supposed to bend like that. And wasn’t there a gaping hole in Foxy’s torso, which is now somehow pressed against Foxy’s forehead? Even if it’s pressed against Blind Mike the Robot Fondlers forehead, what about the great big hole full of sharp metal bits? How can a big hole full of metal bits be warm?
Foxy shook slightly, in what Mike could only assume was a laugh, “I don’t reckon thar’s anythin’ wrong wit’ ye, Mike.” For some reason Mike felt solace in this.
I would disagree strongly with that assessment.
“Different strokes for different folks. Speaking of, there will be some stroking soon, yes?”
Gods, I hope not.
“That’s…Thank you” Mike’s eyes stayed closed as he said this, smiling lightly at Foxy’s sentiment. A gentle rumbling vibrated against his forehead, finally prompting him to lean back into his chair and opening his eyes. The rumbling was more content than threatening and Mike truly felt as though they just reached something deeper than either had ever before in their relationship.
A “relationship” founded on non-consensual groping and vague dirty thoughts on your part, with Foxy just sort of enduring it.
“Sounds fine to me.”
I think it’s already been established that you aren’t a good metric to be used for judging … well, any behaviour.
Mike was hesitant to call this situation anything short of a weird time, but he couldn’t disagree with the term relationship.
Because, thanks to the utterly broken nature of the English language, it is a very vague term that can apply to many things. I can have a relationship with the place I take my truck to for oil changes, but that doesn’t mean I’m having sexy-time fantasies about it.
“Mind if I do?”
Yes. Very much so.
They were two individuals getting closer together, it was a relationship, whether it was anything more than superficial meant nothing to him, and likely not foxy either.
“Those are my favorite kinds of relationships.”
I have nothing against casual relationships, But there just doesn’t seem to be anything even remotely healthy about these two getting together.
Time moved so fast in this place, as if every hour was mere minutes, which is why, when Mike finally allowed himself to steal a look at his tablet, he wasn’t surprised to see that it was past 5am.
I can’t decide if this is another attempt to add in more gameplay mechanics, or if the author is running out of ideas and/or getting bored and is trying to hurry things along.
Foxy taking a gentle hold of his face, his claws pressing into either cheek, and lifting his head to look up, was what made him finally come out of whatever weird trance he had fallen into for a short while.
“Foxy couldn’t have done that without partially defleshing Mikey’s cheeks?”
You just had to make it worse, didn’t you?
“Foxy,” He began on barely a breath, closing his eyes as the other pressed the tip of his snout against his lips, different from before only by location.
“Is he … Is he just pressing his nose against Mikey’s face?!?”
So it would seem.
“The fuck? That’s not how you do that!”
Well, it’s not as if Foxy actually has lips that they could use for kissing, so I guess this is the best they can manage.
An energy tingled between them, vibrating his closed mouth. It made his tongue itch, and saliva to quickly need to be swallowed lest he drool or choke.
That ‘energy’ is probably electricity from a loose wire, and gods only know what he’s caught from having Foxy’s nasty nose pressed against his face that would make his tongue itch. I don’t remember kissing having that particular side effect.
“There is this one species with venom sacs in their tonsils, but they’re in a different dimension.”
His eyes stayed closed even after the other pulled back.
He’s probably trying to process exactly what happened, because that was weird.
“Even by my admittedly low standards, that was rubbish. I can’t believe I gave up peeling kelp off a wizard’s arse for this nonsense.”
“Ye truely are different from th’ others, Mike,” Foxy said,
In so many definitions of the word.
Mike imagined the other smiling in fondness.
With a completely immobile mouth.
“Which has its uses, but not for smiling.”
His eyes were still closed, but he could feel the other’s presence, and it stayed that way until the bells revealing the end of the night rang throughout the building.
Mike opened his eyes to an empty room.
“Best part so far! It’s the end.”
Hold on, there’s an Author’s Note.
“God damn it all to hell and back.”
Authors note below
yo ho ho never fear for i am here!
:sarcasm detector explodes:
Where do these things keep coming from?
“I couldn’t say. I mean, I could – but I promised I wouldn’t.”
Since when do you ever do anything you promise?
“I am shocked! I’ll have you know I am a woman of honor.”
If I still had any espresso left, I’d be snorting it through my nose right now.
I’m back with another chapter, sorry that this took so long, and is kind of shitty, but this entire story is horrible so… okay so i should explain myself somewhat.
Oh, this better be good.
“You know it won’t be, though.”
I wrote the majority of this chapter a short while after i had finished the previous one, but i never finished or posted it because i’m lazy.
“Among other numerous faults.”
I only, very recently, decided to read it and edit/finish it, so that’s why its so choppy and weird to read in places, it’s basically three versions of me writing the same chapter and mashing them together.
Wait just a damn minute – this is the EDITED version of the chapter?!?
“Bloody hell. What do you think the original looked like?”
I don’t even want to think about it.
however, i plan to continue this, and with how i ended it i’m probably gonna make the next night the one. you know, the frick frack fucking time.
Don’t get too excited; their last updates were over a year apart.
again, i dont care about lore or whatever and can’t remember jack all.
“You said it, not us.”
I think we implied it pretty heavily.
This is just some random shit i decided to write and do NOT expect anything except the bare minimum to be at all connected to the games.
And not even that, since the few bits of the game that have made it into the fic were seemingly sprinkled in at random.
also, pleas review ;u; it seriously makes me so happy when y’all decide to throw me a bone
“I never say this, but you are not my type.”
:Ghostie falls off her chair:
and reading the reviews for this again is what made me actually continue.
“What the hell are the internet people telling this fellow?!?”
I have no idea. I’ve browsed through the reviews, such as they are. There’s the standard ‘OMG luv it!!!111!’ ones, a handful who are just reading for the robot sex…
And one from someone with CriticsUnited chastising the author for having a chapter that was just an Author’s Note, since that is considered non-story content and violates the ToS for ff.net.
Technically, it is a valid point. I think it’s the first time I’ve actually seen a reviewer on ff.net point out that chapter-long Author’s Notes aren’t allowed on the site.
“Ugh. I’m going back to the spa. Call me when there’s robot sex.”
Please remember to return Booky-dono in the condition you found him in!
“He will be – more or less.”