prompt:
>>Alicorns are all eltrich abominations.
>>vomit stomach acid
>Anon becomes ill with the flu
>Vomits several times a day
>Princesses have no sympathy for him; they chastise him for constantly revealing himself

>eldritch beings plans
>The plans are for rennovations to the castle
>Just normal construction work and interior decoration, but there's lots of things that are overdue for an upgrade
>They don't trust regular ponies to do it without their input


green:
--------------

>Oh no.
>Oh no, oh no, oh no!
>You cut your conversation with Celestia short and run for the nearest receptacle.
>You proceed to throw up everything you've eaten in the last two weeks.
>"Anonymous!"
>Oh, thank christ.
>She can get you a doctor.
>"Be more careful!"
>Well fuck you too, then.
>"You're lucky there aren't any ponies around to see you."
>Celestia chuckles slyly and her voice echoes unnaturally.
>"I had no idea you were one of us, Anonymous. You hide yourself so well."
>Her voice has taken on a strange lilt, and you could SWEAR you can hear someone else saying what she's saying, right as she's saying it.
>You don't feel yourself being lift up so much as the world is being pushed down, and you come face-to-terrible, TERRIBLE-monster-face with Celestia.
>There are eyes EVERYWHERE
>Eyes that look around and see things that aren't there ; things that you were never meant to see.
>Three mouths open to speak, but only one makes sound.
>The other two though... instead of making sound, they seemingly inject TERROR and DREAD into your head as soon as they begin to "speak".
>"Come along, Anonymous. We need to go tell my sister of this development.
>You vomit again (partly because of your illness; mostly out of terror)
>"Yes, yes, you've already shown me proof."
>The gaping, bleeding wound coming out of the side of her face speaks to you this time.
>"Be sure to save some for my sister!"
>An eye-stalk slithers out of a nostril and a slitted pupil peers at you.
>"She'll need more proof than my word if she's to bring you up to speed on our plans."
>You desperately hope this is some terrible fever-dream.

>Celestia slogs through the moist, fleshy bog that has taken up residence in her bedroom.
>What was once a really, REALLY uncomfortable-looking bug-leg filled vagina is now a gaping, toothed maw.
>You find it odd that you aren't surprised when it begins to speak to you.
>"Thousands of years ago - a mere blink of the eye to ourselves -"
>All seventeen eyes of various sizes, species, and blindness wink all at once.
>The sound of screaming fills your ears, and your vision is briefly assaulted by a scene of terrible gore and suffering.
>It's Ponyville, only.... the only corpses that you can see are foals. Foals with their ribcages wrenched open and their guts torn out, yet still they still scream.
>Even as your vision fades back to Celestia's bedroom, the corpses don't stop screaming.
>"-we had dipped our consciousness into this place and took the forms of those around us. A castle was built in what is now the Everfree Forest, but times had changed and a new residence was required."
>Celestia chuckles, and three more of her mouths join it.
>One of them gasps for air; one of them moans like an animal in pain; and the final one shrieks with laughter.
>"The roof won't stop leaking and the ponies can't figure out what's wrong. We would GREATLY appreciate it if you were to assist us, Anonymous."

>The time spent waiting for Luna to show up is unimaginably horrible.
>You're sitting on a chair in what was once a tasteful waiting room, and Celestia sits across from you.
>Ichor drips from the walls; dark purple, splotchy, and somehow covered in veins.
>You have no idea where the viscous fluid could be coming from, but you don't really care; you just wish that the slime gathering in meaty piles on the floor would stop pulsating and beating with a heartbeat-like rhythm.
>Celestia has taken a more relaxed form, to your dismay.  As much as you want to look away from you, you can't seem to move your eyes.
>It could be that the blind terror you feel locking you in place is to blame, or else perhaps it is the Princess's own otherworldly presence that has ensnared your unwilling attention.
>Her skin has peeled away from her formally-equine body.  She'd slipped it off like a middle-aged woman shrugging off an old, moth-eaten bathrobe.
>Muscles popped and tendons snapped and sprayed blood all across the room, but Celestia beamed happily (almost MOTHERLY) at you and didn't seem to notice.
>Her ribs, looking more like a timberwolf's mouth that had been punched in, barely concealed her major organs.
>When you noticed that her lungs were missing, you felt thankful.  The plump, over-stuffed organs that pulsed and wriggled in her chest cavity instead were all the most monstrous, and you were happy to have been spared the horror of learning how the monster in front of you figured out how to breath.
>You don't know what you would have done if you had learned that you'd been sharing the air with this creature.
>Instead of a heart, there were four fleshy sacks, with each one looking somewhat like a scrotum with a single testicular mass inside of it.
>Each sack was connected to one other with a rotting, decomposing tube of flesh.  They worked together, writing and spurting pus, much in the same way that the four chambers of a heart would pump blood
>You wanted to look away.
>You wanted to forget all this and go back to when Celestia was a big, kind horse-queen who raised the sun and sometimes gave you cuddles.
>Her kidneys rotate in place and two human eyes stare at you.  You feel your stomach drop when you recognize them as identical to your own.
>As soon as the eyes lock onto yours, a whisper fills your mind.  There are no visions of terror; no horrible mouths screaming and wheezing and moaning; just a voice: Celestia's voice.
>She speaks two words to you.
>"She's coming."
>Dread fills you; worse than your darkest nightmares and your most terrible day-time worries.
>A flash of light and the echoing in your mind of humid dungeons and dank halls, where breathing feels like drowning.
>.....
>It's Luna.
>She's.... she's still Luna, only this time she has a blue octopus instead of a horse head.
>>"Greetings!  Our sister most dear hast informed us of thine presence, Anonymous!"
>She gallops through the fleshy bog over to you like an excited puppy, seemingly ignorant to the sheer wrongness that pervades the air around you.
>>"Can thou demonstrate thine abilities?  Our sister trusts you, but we would like to make sure thy body truly does house acid with which to burn and dissolve!"
>You can't help it; you being to cry.  You aren't sure why it is Luna asking you to puke that tips you over the edge; perhaps you've finally gone insane.
>Luna, however, seems thrilled at this development.
>>"Sister!  Salt in liquid form!  Oh, joy of joys!"
>The bizarrely cute pony princess does a dance in the muddy ichor, happiness plain as day on her aquatic features.
>Celestia nods, the sound of her neck bones grinding against each other taking precedence over the dripping and the faint moaning.
>"I had been unsure of just who Anonymous was, but it appears that he is a caretaker.  He can expel acid to defend our young, and provide nourishment in the form of tears."
>Luna hops up onto your lap and wraps her tentacles around the back of your head in a gesture of what your gut tells you is affection.
>>"It has been so long since we have found one fit to ensure the safety of our brood.  Tis truly a time of celebreation!"
>A tongue (pony in nature and thankfully free of fleshy stalks or bony protrusions) forces its way into your mouth and starts to feel along your teeth."
>Celestia looks at you with all... fuck, you don't even KNOW how many eyes.
>She looks at you and SMILES, and in that moment you would swear that she KNOWS what you really are.
>You don't know how, but she KNOWS.
>"You will make a wonderful father, Anonymous."

"S-so, you mentioned being a father, huh?"
>Luna, head still an octopus, nods happily while her skinless, pulsating sister watches on with a smile on her face.
>Her skinless, lipless face.
>Don't you fucking look at me like that, Celestia.
>....
>You might just give Luna the "acid-spewing" demonstration she wanted at this rate.
>>"Indeed! Thou dost knoweth how to create young, correct?"
>Oh god, do you?
>You aren't sure any more. Not after today.
>You know how it works with humans, and you ASSUME it's the same way with ponies.
>No reason it shouldn't, right?
>You're pretty sure it doesn't work the same way with.... whatever Celestia and Luna are.
>You steel yourself. Might a sacrificial offering of your waning sanity be worth the opportunity to play along and stay alive just a little bit longer?
>You glance over at Celestia - more accurately, INTO Celestia - and immediately regret it.
>It is a travesty, but a recognizable travesty nonetheless.
>She has at least one uterus. You only barely recognize the shape.
>After what feels like an eternity, you can no longer look at her; you feel yourself teetering on the brink.
>Christ almighty, you're going to have to stick your dong [spoiler]ring[/spoiler] inside of that, aren't you?
>A meaty gasp and a spray of curdled pus on the liquid-y nightmare around you alerts you to Celestia speaking up.
>She uses her eyes to speak; all of them. Just not the ones sitting in the ruins of her formally-equine skull.
>"Luna.... Luna, Luna, Luna..."
>The malice in her voice is limitless.
>"Trivial things such as biology can and will change over the countless eons of our existence."
>Just hold old is she? For how long has her presence corrupted and perverted the land?

>Her proper mouth opens up as she leers at you cheerfully.
>"Show him and make sure he is..."
>The sound of maniacal sobbing fills your ears and a scene of dust and ashes funnels into your mind - and you experience it as though you were there.
>You cannot describe what you see in words.
>Madness taken form.
>"...compatible."
>No.
>A protruding, meaty tendril bursts out of Luna's flank, dragging behind it shrivelled organs and torn, dead flesh.
>It resembles a tongue much in the same way that intestines may be mistaken for one as well.
>Luna drags it across your exposed face, mercifully missing both your mouth and your eyes.
>Eyes.
>Luna's terrible eyes, burnt into your mind, stare into yours. 
>So much like your own, only without any lids or hide their globular shape. Thin veins form a maze of dead, de-oxygenated blood across their pale-yellow surface.
>>"Thou do not taste as old as we are, Anonymous."
>She knows; she HAS to.
>>"Sister and I have been called many things, Anonymous. Our favourite has been "Old One"."
>A thin tendril made up of a stiff, multi-jointed material (much like a spider's legs) escapes the corner of her eye.
>It drags across the skin just below your eyes and returns from whence it came with a single drop of your salty tears on its barbed tip.
>>"We believe we shall call you a "Young One", Anonymous."
>God help you.