Emiliapocalypse Pt. 3(Emilia Clarke Mass Twinning) (Patreon)

John finally exited the bowels of the convention center in some random side room to the merch areas, trying not to panic too much as coughs and groans echoed around the still bustling crowd. Every few seconds he could see an Emilia in the crowd, either half formed or relishing in their new bodies, some enjoying the compliments to their cosplay while the complimenters sneezed, brown and blonde roots appearing depending on which Emilia they were near.

Though it wasn't much, John quickly moved to a Harry Potter table, careful not to touch his face until he had a bottle of sanitizer and two scarfs wrapped around his mouth and nose as a makeshift mask. The bathrooms were a no go zone at this point and judging by the lines already forming for the men's, plenty of infected Clarkes would be streaming out of them soon, not to mention the chaos once the Star Wars expo finished changing everyone. There was still so much about this disease he didn't know, hopeful that he had lucked out and missed being infected. Surely the signs would have started by now if the two guards had given it to him. Whatever this was was still in the early stages so he just had to grab Mikayla and get the fuck out and then they could go up to his crazy uncle with the apocalypse shelter and apologize profusely for ever making fun of his preparations.

With a goal in mind, he felt for his phone, cursing once he remember the guards had confiscated it for any illicit pictures it might have held. It probably was cracked on the floor in their holding cell once the dresses swallowed up their pockets so it wasn't like he could have gotten it from the middle of them, but that made finding her much more difficult. He couldn't borrow phones since anyone could have it, a chill running through at the thought of him using a phone, coughing as his lips plumped next to the receiver, inviting his girlfriend to join the doom.

She had talked about the cantina, that club thing they were holding on the other side of the convention hall. It had only been a few minutes and it sounded like she was having fun so she should be there, though if she wasn't he'd have to just wait in his car and hope she'd find him before the Emilias did. By that point, he'd have to abandon her entirely.

He tried not to think such morbid thoughts as he moved along the sides where the crowd was thinnest, avoiding anyone so much as sniffling with his hands in his pockets, the walk uneventful save for a few confused glances at his outfit, the mix of series not exactly complementary. He kept his eyes to the ground for the most part, ignoring everyone, unsure if there was any security left to grab him if he tried to warn people, but he imagined screaming it out would be lost amidst the general talking and any who did hear him would either ignore him for a fanboy or rush to add him to the fold.

Eventually he reached the cantina area, which was thankfully not hard to find given the repeating Star Wars music and remixes blaring from the speakers. It seemed fairly crowded already, but a contingent of convention goers were grouped near the entrance, all of them staring at something with a mix of confusion and awe. John didn't like that, but had to get in, avoiding the left side where someone was coughing into a sleeve, said sleeve stretching into one of Dany's outfits from the show as their freckles faded. He knew whatever was being gawked at would be bad, but he didn't have a choice but to keep barreling through, growing more worried with every passing sentence.

"How are they doing that? Is that a screen?"

"Can't believe hologram tech has gotten so advanced!"

"Was this on any of the schedules I mean this must have taken a shit ton of effort!"

"This has to be HBO, it's way too ris- KFF -que for Disney's bland asses."

In the center was an annoyed bouncer, swimming in his clothes, half his hair down to his shoulders, swaying to the music as both hands fondled the clear bulge in his half merged pants. The bottom legs were now clearly a black skirt, showing one pristine foot in a heel, the other sneaker shredding while the toes writhed into pedicured copies. His dressy uniform was shedding its sleeves, his face a Picasso of Emilia, the unchanged parts throbbing as bone and cartilage shifted to something more appealing.

"I-I said the venue is f-UHHHL a-and NNGH! S-STAAAHHHP Staring at me I can't c-can't-"

His suit and dress shirt had shrunken into a black bra, just in time for the crowd to watch as he squealed, his muscled core sucking up to swell his chest as pleased cries poured from his sultry red lips. The pants had flattened right to his groin, now all skirt, both hands scrabbling at the tortured bulge of his cock as a sound like wet jello hitting the floor tore through his body.

"T-TAKE IIIIIT~!"

There was little question of what was being taken as the skirt turned dark and damp, a muffled pop sending the new Emilia to her knees as she fingered her new slit through the dress, moaning as she glanced up at the crowd, the club lights illuminating her as she smiled at the nearest nerd.

"Ello there handsome, want me to make you feel amazing?"

John crept past, into the venue, looking back to see her kissing her target, her lipstick now perfectly applied to his lips as their moans mixed together into the same voice.

"MIKAYLA!"

Though he was yelling, it wasn't carrying much, the music louder, his voice muffled by scarves and things were already far more cramped than he'd like. Everyone was drunk and dancing, some too plastered to notice their breasts growing, a few spots on the floor slick with cum of both sexes as bland outfits turned designer, the smell of sex overwhelming as John made his way through. A table of friends were doing shots, all of their hair poofing outwards when they tossed their heads back. In another corner a guy was grinding against a woman with half her face Emiliaed, the drunk guy moaning as their own thrusts pressed their cock in, joining the slick puddles around them. And at the edge of the debauchery was Mikayla, John spotting her right as he was about to give up and run for the doors.

She perked up when she saw him, nearly falling out her chair as she waved at him, drunk off her ass.

"J-Joooohn th'liquorssf-f-free! An iss good! Whyre you wearin tha- huh?"

John didn't have time to talk her into coming with him, grabbing her and her purse and dragging her out as she stumbled along.

"Wh're y'doin John? Are you hehe, thaa horny?"

She was trying and failing to give his cock a rub which meant at least five strong drinks were in her. It was nice to have one thing of normalcy amidst all this chaos, but they had to keep moving.

If he was strong enough he would have done a princess carry, but that always ended in disaster and they had a lot of convention to get through.

"I don't have time to explain Mikayla just here, take one of these and we need to go. NOW."

One hand was dowsing his spare Harry Potter Scarf with sanitizer, rubbing it in before wrapping it around Mikayla's face. Obviously, her being drunk made her a bit less open to suddenly being gagged, especially with the taste of lysol on it, though that just made him drag her faster towards the exit.

"B-waaaii John y'gotta gooo back!"

Looking behind him, two Emilia's were separating from their kiss, a Daenerys clone silencing a scared looking woman as her hair turned brown. Other people in the former crowd were grunting and gasping, a few people tripping as their casual clothes turned to dresses and skirts, one person trying to call for help ending in a confused squeak, their face converting to hers as the telltale slurp made him thrash on the ground.

"We can't go back Mikayla, and keep that scarf over your mouth, we have to be careful."

One floor down someone screamed, the open floor plan letting John look into the food court, someone writhing in the middle of the plastic table area. Whoever they were was hard to tell, just a writhing ant but whatever kind of show they were putting on was clearly resonating with others as more people joined in the writhing, the moans attracting curious lookers to glance over the railing, their hair growing as they coughed and shifted uncomfortably with a sudden horny need.

"B-But J-ahhh-n it'll be amazing. Your girl she's-"

"HYAAAAAAAAAH~!"

Someone screamed near the restrooms, unable to take waiting any longer, their clothes shredding into Sarah Connor's, the lines of infected reaching a tipping point. There was more general confusion now, the bathroom lines tumbling like dominoes, men and women sliding against one another as their bodies changed, cocks and pussies out as all tried to finger themselves, the women more successful though many of the men were finding it easier as their manhoods caved in or melted in various ways, one couple openly fucking as their bodies grew into mirror images. Some unfortunate people tried to help those they thought were in distress, only to be dragged down by the horny half Emilia's, their protests soon fading into pleased cries as the more finished Emilia's pleasured them, the faster they turned.

John was no longer looking, yanking Mikayla with him as he burst into a sprint.

"S-Sloow down John you're gonna ruin my sandals!"

"I'm sorry Mikayla but we have to fucking go right now!"

Something bothered him, but whatever it was didn't seem half as important as the sudden parade of clacks, the Star Wars expo apparently finished, but the event was only just getting started for the scores of Emilias now pouncing on anyone they could find. John didn't look back to see how close they were, barreling towards the side exit, the panicked screams of people fading into a hellish chorale of moaning, cumming Emilias.

The loudspeaker came to life right as they reached it, John apologizing as he roughly pushed Mikayla through the double sealed doors, brandishing his sanitizer as they ran to the exit.

"All Emilias, Emilia here, please congregate near the exits. I'm putting the automatic locks on with the last of this dumb guard's memories so it should be easy, but we wouldn't want our soon to be costars leaving now would we? And for all those unchanged, let me tell you-"

The rest faded with the closing of the exit doors, John and Mikayla both gasping from the sudden sprint as the sound of an electronic lock whirred, the doors locked. John couldn't believe they had made it out, squirting sanitizer onto every inch of exposed skin he could find and ready to toss it over to his girlfriend when she shoved him suddenly.

"Wot th ell is wrong with you?!"

Mikayla looked pissed, but that wasn't what stunned John at that moment. Yes she almost never got physical with him, yes she rarely ever raised her voice, but what scared him was the sudden tinge of Britishness to her yelling. Looking down, he finally noticed what had been bothering him earlier when she had been complaining, her shoes hugged by a cute pair of designer sandals.

Mikayla had been wearing sneakers when they got here.

John was in a bit of a daze, stuck between wanting to cry and running furiously, his brain splitting the difference and keeping him in place as Mikayla waggled a bit, her drunk state fading fast. She already had the same color hair as Emilia, was almost the same height too. As he watched her painted nails were fading, both fingers and toes losing black for a creamy pink, her replica of The One Ring growing a large jade insert as it turned gaudy.

"Y-You had a surprise for me... It was Emilia Clarke wasn't it?"

His girlfriend cooed at the name, her voice purring as it gained more British tones, her eyes squinting as they minutely shifted to become Emilia's.

"Mmm yes luv E-mi-li-aaah~! She was so sexy, so generous. She paid for all the drinks, she even took a sip of one of mine earlier."

It was bizarre how small the changes were to Mikayla's face, her lips and nose only shifting slightly, the outline of her chin mostly the same, yet she was unrecognizable after only a few seconds. Well, not unrecognizable, she was all too recognizable now as her t-shirt stiffened to something preppier, blue and white lines overtaking the branded pattern on it as buttons popped loose down the middle.

"I-If you hadn't rushed ou-AHHHWT of there she would've NNGH w-would've wanted a-"

She struggled for a moment, her hips crunching as they widened slightly, her breasts actually shrinking a bit to match as she moaned through the deflation. Her hands were now pawing at her crotch, her lips trembling as her skirt grew longer, deluxe patterns appearing on the bleached white canvas of it. John noticed her bag in his hands was Gucci now, dropping it when a slam rattled behind him, the stunned man turning to see people struggling to escape, rattling uselessly against the locked doors with fear in their eyes and Emilia's coming up behind them.

"Th-Threeso- Ahhh yes yes YEEESSS~! OH GAWWD that's good!"

Whatever was happening between Mikayla's thighs seemed to be finishing up, her distinguishable birthmarks fading into Emilia's complexion, her clothes completely changed as for a minute all she did was finger herself before wetting the ground with her own pleased completion. She groaned heatedly, flicking her hands clean as she turned to her former boyfriend, staring at him with hunger in her eyes.

"And you know John... it's not too late to make that a reality. I know you must be excited to fuck me. And it'll feel so wonderful to be a star..."

The panicked pounding had slowed behind him, the clattering rattles more rhythmic, each one accompanied with a harmonic chorus of moans. It didn't feel real to him, his world completely changed in under an hour as he turned to see the once desperate cosplayers now half naked Emilia's, all of their individuality fucked free from them as multiple pairs of Clarke's tits slammed against the glass doors. All of them looked so happy, hungry for more as they stared at him, his girlfriend giggling as she sauntered over to her soon to be girlfriend, stumbling as the loosened straps on her right sandal snapped teetering her to the ground.

"Oh bother."

Rather than run, he walked, in a daze, almost like a robot as he left the convention center behind him.

"Wait come back! Where are you going? Don't you want to join us?!"

He didn't hear, the new Emilia not fully used to her body yet as she fell behind. It was a shock to John when he bumped into his car, realizing he was in the parking lot. Looking back, he saw the main entrance blocked by the backs of dozens of Emilia's, more moans than screams echoing from the convention center as he felt for his keys, forgetting if those had been confiscated or not. They hadn't, yet despite that he just stared dumbly at them. Where was he going to go? The city? His apartment? The police lines had been full back when the guards had called, and #emiliapocalypse was trending before he even knew what was going on. What would he even find when he got to-

"Hey!"

John turned, seeing some tanned college guy in an undershirt and swim trunks jerking off openly, a glazed, happy look on his face. He was sweating profusely, every drop trickling away his tan as his skin turned smooth and pale.

"Nngh I just fucked this girl and she MMPH s-slipped me something. My dick feels weird and I can't find any of my friends, just that OHH g-girl. Could I bum a r-AYEEE~d?"

His fingers were definitely girlier, the blonde hairs on his head browning as they grew. He didn't seem to consciously notice he was rubbing his cock either, just doing it like it was a normal thing like breathing and blinking. Any cum that dribbled out splattered onto the sand, his toes wriggling as they dug deeper, popping into dainty little things as his heels slimmed. The shirt was very sheer, so it was easy to see his nipples growing behind it, darkening and puffing out against the fabric.

"Um, your nipples they're um..."

The guy looked down and felt them up, moaning as a weak spurt left his cock. He bit his lip as he played with them, rolling his bottom one between his teeth as it plumpened, yellow stains fading to a perfect smile as small breasts popped up from under his fingers.

"Nngh it must have been eh-ecstasy these tits feel MMH sooo freakin good dude."

His tits were larger, his cock half its former length and one ball was squishing its way into his body, the accompanying hip popping out as he moaned, watery cum washing away under the waves.

Despite everything that had happened, John was still ashamedly aroused, unable to tear his eyes away as the poor beach bum moaned away his masculinity, his muscled thighs swelling with fat, height pumping out his cock as his cheeks rounded, his nose popped, his features turning sexy and cheery. He seemed almost disappointed as he shoved the rest of his cock into a widening hole, cooing as it took a few tries to cram it in there, a clear gush of fluids pouring from her new lips as she pulled her white shorts up pantyless, smiling as she asked, "I forgot wot I was saying. Anyways wanna fuck? I'm really horny..."

Somehow his keys had found the lock, his body had found the car seat and the door was slamming shut, the Clarke clone giggling at his silent refusal as she scampered towards some more Clarkes rolling in the waves behind her. As he started the car, John noticed the doors of the convention center opening, a flood of Emilias chattering and smiling, clicking the alarms for cars they forgot they owned, the sound of hundreds of sirens the last of the convention center as he drove back. There was nowhere else to go at this point without a phone first and maybe he was wrong, maybe he'd find the city unaffected or the military already controlling the virus and he'd be one of the unlucky few who got to see this thing up close.

Many thoughts ran through Josh's head as he kept his eyes on the road, scared to turn on the radio, scared of what the future would bring. And then the fear stopped, a strange air of certainty creeping up as he laughed at his steering wheel, a terrible sort of relief rolling through him as he tapped his index finger against the steering wheel. It made such a lovely sound as he giggled, sniffing a bit as it clacked against the hard foam, John wondering when and where as he looked at his manic smile in the black sheen. It was a perfect mirror, his face only slightly distorted in its long reach, and yet it felt right for the situation. Such a small thing and yet it meant the end of so much, and the start of more.

His index finger continued tapping on the dash, like a clock ticking down, the nail perfectly manicured, its black polish gleaming perfectly as John drove home.