ASMR With Fluttershy

by SparklingTwilight

First published June 8th, 2023 22:30

Fluttershy helps you get to sleep. But why exactly is she helping...

Show Era: Season 6

Image: by Lorc, with rights to the image alone at this link. Coloring added by me.

Chapters

Ummmmmmmmmm...

Ummmmmmmmmm...
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ASMR With Fluttershy

Ummmmmmmmmm...

You're listening to Fluttershy's sweet voice: a calming voice, a repetitive voice, a soft voice, a lulling voice.

She's reading ingredients off your cereal: chickpea, wheat, whole flour, brown sugar, maltodextrin, malted barley extract, sodium bicarbonate, molasses, salt, white sugar, vitamin D, zinc oxide, thiamin mononitrate, riboflavin, and folic acid.

She's whispering gently, ruffling paper of a well-worn tome. Tapping. Crinkling scrap. Not your third-most-favorite book's pages, right? You almost bolt awake but you consider, and your heartbeat slows. Fluttershy wouldn't do that. Only a non-practical pony, a Pinkie Pie party pony or a Rainbow Dashing daring doer would make that mighty mistake. No. Fluttershy knows better. She's kind. She's gentle. She's timid and too afraid to cause offense so she would never dare presume to marehandle another's property. Another's pets, maybe. But not their property.

You're spoiled. Fluttershy does so much for others and gives so much of herself and now she's lightly scratching the side of her chair and breathing and making little popping sounds with her mouth and clicks against the roof of it.

It's

good

yes

a...

You've fallen asleep--not too sound, but you're out even though your unconscious brain still picks up signals. A picture in your head of what may be happening. You've been sensing like this too deeply. The world is spinning and your heart is beating and the house is creaking and bugs are creeping and your senses increasing, awakening, and it's all too much and--

What's this?

Fluttershy keeps reading. What it is isn't clear. But it's soft and so sweet. Then abruptly, she stops, but keeps breathing. In. Out. A thousand repetitions. Then her chair creaks and she gets up.

Over to the window she goes. Flutters. Flows.

The window is locked. The door too.

Up.

That hole in your attic where Rainbow Dash burst through, followed by rain due to amateur patching. You complained about that last week. It has been restored--thank Celestia! Rather, thank Applejack. And Fluttershy was there--worried. You snort. That dream again. Slipping through your head. Apples and cider. A house-healing party. Fluttershy smiling in the background but you're talking with--sleep. Discord's sneering--the draconequus who can remake reality. You complimented her in front of him; how luscious her tail was and her fragrance... and her cheeks burned and she laughed and his nostrils flared and your heart is beating faster and you're nearly waking up. Wait!

Fluttershy can't get out.

Not without waking you and undoing restorative benefits of the ASMR. Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. Twilight Sparkle coined the term. You have no idea what it means. Neither does Fluttershy. But Twilight tested her and she was good. Better than any other pony. Equestria's Quiet Game champion had transferable skills to this activity. So nice. And she needed the bits--payment for food and medical supplies to satiate her animals, the hundreds she cared for at the sanctuary. She'll be buying so much hay and grain and leaves and raspberries and blueberries and other mellifluous-sounding comestibles.

But maybe that wasn't why she came.

She'd been so concerned.

To hear

your problem.

...

Something pulls you back from darkness.

A dream.

You're fine, Twilight says. It could be magic. Fluttershy winces--why? "Psychosomatic problems externally imposed discordant gobbledygook."

...

Fluttershy is at your door.

But she knows the door painfully creaks. It should have been oiled. And she, when you'd been farther away, saw your oil--for doors, and the other sorts of oil too. But she spilled. Mopped it up. Couldn't run the water because that might waken you. Several days now of no rest. Not since the party. Tossing and turning and eyes bloodshot and sore.

She licked a rag. Hoped it was a rag. Didn't want to ruin your linens. It was dirty and under your sink and her tongue tasted funny after using it. She recoiled. Were you in her head? What a dream. And she swiped the cloth back and forth to sop up the remaining oil, congealing on the wood. Hoped laundry could efface any stain.

The other oils could work. Oil was oil. Maybe. She never used olive oil on a door. And the mystery oil smelled strange. Best to leave alone.

And if oils did not succeed, then you would be awake. If she was gone, she'd have done her job and wouldn't be expected to do anything more. That is, if this was just, for her, a job and nothing more. A fancy. A regret--but why? Her face was pained for you--for her--for solving the partially overheard problem studious Twilight Sparkle speculated on that you could barely hear when wagging pony tongues discussed. No.

Was she leaving with you awake and stranded in your fugue-like-state...

That wouldn't be kind.

And Fluttershy is certainly a kind pony. The very Element of Kindness. A pony you paid quite well to help cure your insomnia.

But what can she do?

Will Fluttershy be trapped inside--have to sleep with you? She looks at your bed. And the floor. And the blankets.

She has options. Not a problem. No awkward situation. She doesn't like you like that. Probably. Maybe? Mmm...

She's sleepy too.

So tired.

Her ASMR was so good, even her eyelids droop. Her breathing softens. She lays out a blanket on the rug on the floor. Cashmere. Elongated blanket. Warm. Nice.

She lays down and snuggles against a cozy stuffed toy--not your favorite, you're sleeping with that one. But, your second favorite--the one with the askew googly eyes. A little pseudo-pet.

Pet.

Animal.

Her eyes widen. No sleep. She has dependents to feed.

You're in a dream. It's almost normal. The fugue is fading. A snarling smoky draconequus waggles a finger in front of your face and you drift up from rapid eye movement sleep and your breathing becomes a bit hindered.

Her ears perk.

You are snoring.

She times the periods.

And flutters to the door. Unlatches a hitch on a snore.

Out she goes and shuts the egress.

Leaving you, sleeping, alone within.