Sleeping Sickness

by alarajrogers

First published

Discord can't wake up. Fortunately Fluttershy and Celestia are there for him. He loves them.

Discord can't wake up. Fortunately Fluttershy and Celestia are there for him. He loves them, and it feels so good to just give in to his weakness, to sleep and let the ponies he loves take care of him. They'll make sure he's okay... right?

Warnings and shippings (spoiler tag added):
Fluttercord friendshipping, Dislestia relationshipping, apparently. Note: contains sleep sex fetish (for receiving, not inflicting, and apparently there isn't a word -- somnophilia refers to wanting sex with sleeping people, not wanting sex to be performed while asleep) and dubious consent, for reasons other than the dubiousness of consent while asleep. Not sufficient detail to be considered a clopfic, though, at least in my opinion.

Sleeping Sickness

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His eyes and his paws are heavily bandaged, to the point where he can't really use either, and his magic is the barest trickle within him, but he's not afraid. He can't clearly remember what happened that led him to end up in this state, but he's too sleepy to worry about it. Obviously something bad happened, and now he's being taken care of in a hospital or something. Refreshingly it doesn't actually smell like a hospital. He hates the smell of antiseptics and blood and the sour stench of old ponies slowly dying. The place he's in smells earthy, like a cave or something, and it feels cool and moist. There must be some unicorn-enchanted fans someplace, because cool air blows over his face sometimes, like there's a ventilation system, but honestly he's not really curious about it.

He's just too tired, and it feels so good.

During the day -- he assumes it's the day, no sunlight ever penetrates the bandages on his eyes but then, why would a hospital waste a room with a window on a temporarily blinded patient? -- Fluttershy is with him. There are nurses as well, or he assumes so. They feed him (boring mush, mostly, but then he has no appetite anyway), and wash him, and lift his body up from the bed, sliding a bedpan underneath him. But it's Fluttershy who coaxes him to eat, Fluttershy who sits by him petting him and stroking his head while the nurses sponge-bathe him and curry his coat, Fluttershy who encourages him to actually use the bedpan for its intended purpose. None of his other friends ever come by, only Fluttershy, but she is there nearly constantly.

He loves her so much. It feels so very good to snuggle into his covers and let himself slide back into welcoming chocolatey sleep and to know Fluttershy is there to comfort him and be his friend. He's too tired to talk, so he tries to express his emotions by reaching out and weakly stroking her with his heavily bandaged paws, or to put his wing around her, or pet her with his tail. This never lasts very long. He has no energy at all. All he can do, most of the time, is lie there in bed and enjoy Fluttershy's petting and attention.

So very tired. Part of him is afraid. He doesn't want this to be the rest of his life. He's got chaos to cause, things to see, ponies to annoy. He doesn't want to be sleeping in a hospital bed forever. But when he tries to fight his own exhaustion, dots swim in front of his closed and bandaged eyes, and his chest hurts horribly and he can't get enough air and his whole body is leaden and everything hurts. Whereas when he gives in, he has a wonderful plush mattress underneath him, actually large enough for his body, and soft blankets, a cool sheet directly under and over his body and then fluffy warmth, softer than fur, on top for him to curl up inside. It feels so nice to yield to his own weakness. To enjoy his bed and the sweet embrace of sleep, to bask in the comfort of his dearest friend sitting with him, petting him.

Sometimes it feels as if her touch is actually making him weaker. That when she pets him and coos at him and his heart overflows with tenderness, it becomes harder to breathe, and the urge to fall into a deeper, darker sleep overwhelms him. Of course, it's probably because her touch relaxes him and makes him feel less afraid. The fear of being like this forever makes him struggle against sleep sometimes, but when Fluttershy comforts him he remembers why he doesn't want to do that. Fluttershy assures him that if he gets enough rest, surely he'll recover and feel better, and sleeping feels so much better than fighting it.

The thought occurs to him on more than one occasion that maybe he's dying. That, too, makes him slightly afraid, but not enough to do anything about it. His exhaustion and lack of magic make him helpless. And the truth be told, there's something wonderful about having a caring friend catering to him and making sure he's comfortable and safe. Even if she makes him drink disgusting potions that make him dizzy and cause him to pass out. He trusts Fluttershy completely. If there's anything that can possibly be done to save him from this mysterious illness that keeps him asleep or semi-conscious almost all the time, she'll do it.

Fluttershy's affection for him has always been purely platonic; part of him wishes that were not so, but he can understand that a normal pony wouldn't exactly perceive him as sexy right now anyway. It's all right. Strange how he doesn't have the strength to sit up in bed, and yet he still has a libido. He's too tired to do anything for himself, including that, and with bandaged paws and no magic it would be difficult anyway, but he doesn't need to.

At night -- he assumes at night, she wouldn't be here if the sun were still up -- Fluttershy is gone, and Celestia is there.

Discord can never quite make himself regain enough full consciousness to reciprocate. Celestia doesn't seem to want him to. Whereas Fluttershy's petting and comfort manifests as hugs and snuggles and gentle strokes on his brow or down the back of his head and neck, Celestia touches him in much more exciting ways. Her mouth nibbles at his ear, an unexpected tongue exploring the sensitive inside of it. Her hooves and her magic caress him. Her soft wings stroke his neck. Her lips and tongue play against his most sensitive places, and he drowns in pleasure, unable to wake himself up enough to do anything but moan, and whimper, and sometimes mumble words of eager consent against his pillow. It's funny, though, this is a sort of fetish. He loves the thought of a partner wanting him so badly they pleasure him in his sleep, and it makes the helplessness feel much less dangerous and much more like a sexy, kinky game. All he can do is lie there and take it, moaning under her ministrations until her mouth and tongue coax a glorious explosion of pleasure from him.

Afterward he usually blacks out. He doesn't want to -- he wants to snuggle Celestia and enjoy his afterglow -- but he's too weak, and the sex leaves him feeling completely drained. As if, when he comes in Celestia's mouth, the love and tenderness and happiness he feels at being so thoroughly cared for explode out of him as well and into her, and with those energies drained from him, there's nothing he can do but fall immediately into sleep. He's sometimes aware enough for just long enough to know that Celestia is cuddling him, sometimes even licking his face or neck. "Sweet Discord," she says to him as his consciousness fades. "Sweet, sweet Discord. So delicious. No one can satisfy me like you do."

That feels better than anything. Her voice, crooning at him at how much she loves tasting him this way and how his love makes her feel strong, as he drifts off to sleep. Even if he's dying, he thinks, it might be worth it. If he was awake and well and strong, as he usually is, then Fluttershy wouldn't be fawning on him all day, and Celestia wouldn't be making love to him every night. He'd be plagued by restless energy and a constant desire to cause chaos and to change everything he sees around him, making the ones he loves angry at him. Now that he's helpless, the urge to cause chaos just isn't there; he wants to want to make chaos, but the fact is, he's too tired to want to get up and do anything. No urges drive him but the need for sweet sleep. So he's free to bask in the love and attention from Fluttershy and Celestia.

And he can't really be in danger because they never sound scared for him. If he were truly dying, surely the ponies he loves would be upset. He'd hear them crying sometimes, or hear stress in their voices. They wouldn't be caring for him so kindly if they didn't truly love him, and if they truly love him, it would upset them if he were dying. And they aren't upset. So he is going to be just fine, eventually. He just needs to take his medicine and get his rest.

Most of the time he has wonderful dreams, incoherent fantasias of chaos or dreams of a daily life where he is accepted and loved. Sometimes there are nightmares. Of Tirek, usually. Possibly triggered by his helplessness. He has very, very vivid dreams of Tirek, a wizened old man not at the full strength he attained, bending over him, sucking his magic out slowly, so there are dregs left within him. When he manages to muster up the strength to wake himself from those dreams, Fluttershy tends him and sings him a lullaby, or Celestia kisses the fear away, and he slides back into the wonderful peaceful semiconsciousness that he spends all his supposed waking hours in. Sometimes he dreams that Tirek and a mare are arguing over him, talking about him like he's a sheep to be sheared or a cow to be milked, a renewable resource they can farm, and the humiliation stings even worse than fear, but it takes him so long to force himself awake, even a dream as terrifying as that can take him minutes before he can make himself wake from it. It doesn't help that he can't open his eyes.

The mare -- she must be the farmer, she talks about Discord like he's an apple tree she's cultivating -- argues that he needs to be treated gently, that they can't take too much or he won't grow back what they need. Tirek argues that this is too slow and Discord is too dangerous, and the farmer is getting the most benefit out of this deal. Then the farmer talks about her children catching ponies for Tirek, and usually at this point Discord is frantic to wake up, and begins to thrash in his sleep. Time after time, he thinks he is awake, and tries to turn to Fluttershy or Celestia for comfort, only to hear the voices still. He's a lucid dreamer, and the fact that he knows Tirek is in Tartarus reassures him that this is after all just a dream, most of the time, but when he has those dreams where he dreams he's woken up and then he can still hear them, it terrifies him utterly, because he always thinks that he did wake up and Tirek is really there.

But in the end, there's always Fluttershy or Celestia, soothing him, reminding him that it was just a bad dream. Giving him more medicine, because after the medicine he usually sleeps deeply enough that there are no dreams.

He's so very, very tired. And he misses his other friends, and wonders why none of them come to visit; if Twilight cared enough about him to save him from Tirek, why doesn't she visit him in the hospital? And he fears sometimes that he's sleeping his life away, that there's so many things he could or should be doing and instead here he is pulling covers over his head with bandaged mitts that have barely the dexterity of pony hooves. But he can't do anything about these things. He can't even stay awake long enough or muster up enough energy to ask what's wrong with him or why he's in the hospital. All he can do is get some rest, try to recover some of his strength, and trust that the ponies he loves will bring him through this.

Fluttershy and Celestia will save him. He's sure they will.