AnimeCon Harem Bonus: The Cosplay Contest (Patreon)

“Welcome, everyone, to the main event—the AnimeCon cosplay contest! We have a great turnout of cosplayers this year, and I hope everyone’s excited to see them! First in our lineup for this evening is Sarah Star, and she’s cosplaying the Vampire Princess Marcilla, from Magi Hunter!” With a subtle fade-in, the haunting organ melody of Marcilla’s theme music began to play.

Although more than a little miffed that she hadn’t been introduced as the previous winner of Judges’ Choice and Best of Show from past AnimeCons as promised, Sarah displayed the poise and professionalism one would expect of an experienced cosplay veteran. Carefully drawing up the front of her dress so she could ascend to the stage, she strode out into the spotlight with slow, graceful steps. If anything, Foxy’s failure to follow through helped her properly get into character; her demeanor was cold and expressionless to the point of being inhuman, and the enormous audience crammed into the cosplay contest room roared with approval, cheers, applause, and whistles.

“That was Sarah Star, everyone!”

Knowing her cue to exit the stage, Sarah Star gave a solemn bow and leisurely walked across the other side of the platform to the exit, trailing the beautiful train of her Marcilla dress behind her as she left.

“Next up, we have Liz Licks! She’s cosplaying a Soul Priestess, from Shinobi Souls!” This time, one of the peppy action music themes from the anime was played.

“That’s one of the girls that helped me with my costume!” Melanie exclaimed, peeking out from her place in line.

“Ssh,” Chloe shushed.

“What kinda cosplay name is ‘Liz Licks?’” Melanie wondered out loud. “Is that like, a lesbian thing…?”

“Nah, her name has to do with her lizard,” one of the guys in line near them, an Inferno Marine cosplayer in rigid plastic armor, whispered over helpfully.

“...Lizard?”

“Yeah. She has a bearded dragon—always has it in her profile picture, flicking its tongue out right at her nose.”

“That’s so cool! Liz Licks! A bearded dragon?!” Melanie burst out. “Cutie little spikey boi?! That’s so fuckin’ awesome!!”

“Ssh,” Chloe shushed, keeping her eye on the competition on-stage.

Unlike Sarah Star, Liz took a more active approach—she performed the healing pose Soul Priestesses were famous for, first facing the left wing of the crowd at at angle, and then another healing pose facing the right wing of the audience. The various photographers clustered up right in front by the stage seemed to appreciate it, showering her with dozens of flickering flashes, and the response from the attendees was almost as enthusiastic as it’d been for Sarah.

“That was Liz Licks, as a Soul Priestess!” The announcer called, and Liz broke character, waving energetically to everyone and trotting off the stage.

“Fuck, what do I do when I get up there?” Melanie asked, realizing she hadn’t planned quite that far ahead. “Hey, what do you think I should I do?”

Chloe gave her an annoyed shrug, focusing on the line of cosplayers heading up one by one onto the stage. Earlier, she’d seemed suspiciously vigilant of someone in the very back of the line. But, as the tail end of the chain of queued cosplayers was all the way back in the conference waiting room, that apparently wasn’t her concern now.

“Well, what are you going to do?” Melanie asked, poking at Chloe’s side to get her attention.

“It’s a contest,” Chloe snapped, turning to shoot the younger girl an icy glare. “I’m going up there to win. Figure out how to lose gracefully on your own.”

“Sheesh, okay, yeah, whatever,” Melanie huffed. “You look real sweet and everything, but you don’t really act much like Himari, y’know?”

“Fuck off.”

* * *

After appearing in front of everyone, the cosplayers stepping down to the opposite side of the stage would begin forming a new line along the wall. There, Sarah Star regarded the waiting Foxy with an unfriendly look.

“So?” She asked.

“I’ve told the staff what we’re going to do,” Foxy explained. “They’re probably going to introduce you as the past Best of Show and everything after everyone walks. Y’know, when they actually have you hand them the awards.”

“Probably?” Sarah scoffed, glancing around for one of the staffers. “Where’s someone who can tell me more than probably? Is all of this a might, maybe, probably thing, or is this actually happening?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Foxy sighed, ducking back over towards the announcer’s table through the dark of the enormous room, skirting around the hundreds of filled seats.

Fletcher intercepted him before he made it to the staff table.

“Whoa, hey,” Fletcher said, standing in Foxy’s path and holding up his hands. “Why don’t you take a seat and watch the contest, okay?”

“Sorry, I need to talk to the staff,” Foxy apologized, trying to brush past the obstruction.

“I’m staff,” Fletcher reminded him, stopping him in his tracks with a hand on his chest. “...Why don’t you sit down?”

“Next up, we have Miss Anne Dree, with an old anime classic—Magical Doll Himari!”

The eruption of cheers was expected, and only intensified as Chloe appeared, her enormous twin-tails bobbing along behind her. While the character had long been a fan-favorite and Himari cosplays were almost ubiquitous at any anime convention, few had the appropriate physique to do her justice. Stepping up onto the stage with the long, slender legs of a runway model and sporting the difficult-to-craft enormous pair of spiralling hair extensions, Chloe did indeed look the part. Her fine-featured face was pulled into a cheery smile, and she basked in the spotlight with confidence, immediately striking one of Magical Doll Himari’s signature poses.

“Let’s hear it for Miss Anne Dree, everyone!”

As her moment concluded, Chloe performed an impressive twirl—an actual ballet piroutte she’d been practicing for this moment—and snapped out a victory pose, making a ‘V’ with her fingers. Then she relaxed, giving the crowd a smile and a friendly wave before prancing offstage.

“Now we have Melaneko, as Blaire from EMRLD!”

Let’s see you follow up that act, dumb fucking bimbo, Chloe smirked to herself. She was looking forward to watching that annoying brat behind her stand there awkwardly, her hands at her sides—comically unsure of how to even properly position for photos in the face of so much overwhelming attention.

Excitement and anticipation rushed to Melanie’s head—and, as her heartbeat accelerated, everything in sight took on a slightly green sheen, and the previously dark room seemed so much easier to see. That strange hyper-awareness had returned, and Melanie felt her senses stretch out in every direction to encompass the stage platform, the line of cosplayers, even most of the audience. Every hair on her body seemed to stand on end, energized, and out of impulse—she leapt. Unexpectedly, her jump easily cleared the edge of the stage, she tucked into a deft roll, and then slid to a stop mid stagemidstage in a crouch, one knee on the ground and her opposite hand splayed out—already poised to react, ready to burst into motion again.

Holy… FUCKS! How’d I just do that?!

Shocked into stunned silence, it was a moment before the crowd could react, exploding out into a deafening roar of cheers and shouts, dozens of fans even rising up out of their seats to stand. Having acted on the spur of the moment, and without having actually investing any thought into it, Melanie was almost as surprised as everyone else. She blinked forward into the flash of dozens of cameras until it became disorienting.

“That was—wow, right?—that was Melaneko cosplay!”

Sheepishly rising up out of her low stance, Melanie was waving awkwardly to everyone with an enormous smile on her face when the stitches along the side of her Blaire Bellefonte costume gave way. The white and black outfit had already been straining at the seams, and with a tiny rip from her exaggerated performance earlier, her entire upper garment fell. For the second time this evening, Melanie’s breasts were in uninhibited view of the open public. This time, however, was while on stage in front of dozens of cameras and a multitude of exuberant attendees.

“Eep!”

Melanie’s reaction was drowned out by the calamity of noise roaring through the room in the form of whoops, hollers, cheers, whistles, and screams, and people as far away as AnimeCon’s main lobby could hear the sudden and surprising increase in volume. Crossing her hands over her chest and clapping a hand over each starkly visible nipple, Melanie gave the audience a shy grin and scampered off stage, the remnant of her cosplay top fluttering behind her from where it still clung around one of her shoulders. There was an awkward pause in the event lineup as the EMRLD theme finally faded out.

Melanie’s mishap hadn’t escaped the notice of Foxy and Fletcher; both of them simultaneously abandoned their deadlocked stalemate at the rear of the room and were hurrying back over in the girl’s direction.

“What’s your problem with me, anyways?” Foxy was getting aggravated; he didn’t have time for this.

“You were abusing the authority given to you as a judge for your own interests,” Fletcher growled back, trying to outpace Foxy.

“Of course I have my own preferences as to what cosplays I like and don’t like,” Foxy snorted, shucking his signature black trenchcoat off of his shoulders as he strode forward. “That’s the way things work—that’s why there’s three judges, and only majority opinion decides.”

In a matter of moments, the two had crossed the breadth of the room between the seated audience on one side and the cosplayers who’d already walked on the other, reaching Melanie at the end of that line.

“Are you alright?” Fletcher called out to the dark-haired girl.

“I swear it was an accident,” Melanie laughed, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. “I really didn’t mean to, this time! Don’t get mad at me!”

“No one’s mad at you,” Foxy assured her, protectively slipping his trenchcoat around the girl’s shoulders.

Chloe, who’d been the nearest contestant waiting offstage there, rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, visibly disgusted by the entire turn of events.

Seeing that Melanie was in no way traumatized after finding herself exposed again, and in front of AnimeCon’s largest crowd, no less, Fletcher didn’t press the issue. Instead, he rushed over towards the photographers who’d taken up the premium space right in front of the stage.

“If any of you got that by accident—delete it,” Fletcher instructed all of them. “I think she’s a minor, and if it’s found on your camera, there’ll be consequences.” He didn’t really think she was under eighteen, but his words had the intended effect, and several amused smiles disappeared in an instant.

Grimacing at what a fiasco the event was turning out to be, Fletcher gave Dave a wave, signalling he should resume and introduce the next cosplayer.

* * *

Bundled up within Foxy’s trenchcoat, Melanie was positively giddy with excitement. Flashing everyone hadn’t been something she would’ve done intentionally, but she definitely didn’t regret that it happened, either. To her, it was even cooler than the awesome way she jumped up on stage. That! Was! Fucking! Amazing! I can’t wait to tell everyone back home about this!

“You sure know how to get everyone’s attention,” Foxy slid his hand down to the small of her back. It didn’t seem weird to her at that particular moment, either—she was in his coat, after all.

“Oooh yeah,” Melanie agreed with a giggle, so pumped up and excited she was nearly vibrating in place. “Titties do that, sometimes!”

“They do, do they?” Foxy asked with a chuckle.

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” Melanie asserted, looking up at him with an enormous smile. She was holding the trenchcoat closed with both hands from the inside, but she wasn’t doing a great job. “That wasn’t even the first time it’s happened today! And, they were both total accidents!”

“Yeah, I bet,” Chloe spat. “Either put those things away, or go get a room.”

“Ah, I did give you a slip with my room number on it, right?” Foxy lit up at the reminder.

“You did! I’m definitely gonna be there!” Melanie promised.

“Cool!” Foxy grinned. “How ‘bout after everything here’s all wrapped up, I take you out to the vendor’s room and buy you a T-shirt or something to wear?”

“You’d buy me a T-shirt?!” Melanie exclaimed in surprise, her eyes going wide. “Like, for me to keep?! For free?!”

“Well, yeah.”

“Omigod, you’re—you’re the bestest!” Melanie cried out, and she latched onto him in a fierce hug, letting the coat fall open.

“Hey, s’no problem,” Foxy grinned at feeling her bare breasts squash up against him in an enthusiastic way. “I mean, you’ll havta wear something to the party tonight, right?”

“Thank you thank you thank you so much for everything!!” Melanie said, pulling just far enough away from him to land an appreciative smooch on his unsuspecting cheek.

“No big deal, really,” Foxy insisted, pleasantly surprised. “Come find me when the contest’s over?”

“...Yeah!” Melanie agreed breathlessly, and she staring at him intensely for a long moment, as if mesmerized by him. The instant her lips made contact with his skin, it was as if something changed, and her vision took on a greenish hue from before. Her surroundings seemed sluggish, as if everything around her except for Foxy was slightly in slow-motion, and Melanie was simply unable to look away from him. She was vaguely aware of the continuing cosplay contest, the several other contestants who had crossed the stage and lined up behind her at this point, but her attention was locked firmly on Foxy in front of her.

“Cool! Hang on to my coat ‘till then,” Foxy said, giving her a roguish smile as he pulled away from her.

“Hehehe!” Melanie had an eerie grin as she followed him with her eyes, and she fidgeted in place from one foot to the other, trembling with anticipation and barely able to resist the urge to pounce.

* * *

“Hey,” A cold voice called out to Foxy as he made his way past the line of cosplayers to the back of the room. When Foxy turned, he found Sarah Star looking at him expectantly.

“Caught a bit of what you and that staff guy said, when you two ran past,” Sarah said. “He’s the one making things difficult for all of this?”

“Yeah,” Foxy replied, giving her a helpless shrug. “Well, I should really say he’s the one making things difficult for you. You’re Sarah Star, there’s all sorts of jealous punks out there who can’t stand to be in your shadow. Who knows which one of them’s been trying to pull you down a peg? The staff here are getting super corrupt—none of this is even any sort of fair contest, anymore.”

“...This is such bullshit,” Sarah hissed in vexation, trying to see where that staffer—Fletcher—had gone. Her fist clenched and unclenched as she leaned out of the line, trembling with anger.

“Hey, I’m on your side,” Foxy said, taking her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. “This is bullshit. I’m gonna go talk to them again, and see what I can do.”

“A-alright,” Sarah said distractedly. “Yeah.”

She was still slightly stunned as she watched him hurry on, almost as if someone was shining a light right in her face. Foxy wasn’t one of her friends, and they’d never really even spoken before in the past years at AnimeCon—they’d simply been aware of each other’s reputations. So, why is it like this…?

She held up the hand he’d squeezed, looking at it in a daze. This awful contest situation that seemed to conspire against her felt like an oppressive stormy cloudfront, blocking out her long-anticipated chance at happiness this year. But, then Foxy was breaking through it all, like a yellow ray of sunshine. A column of warmth and light, falling on her and no one else. A single sunbeam that chose her, a spotlight that promised it was her time to shine.

* * *

“Next up, we have Synn, as Dmitri Dhampir, from HellState!” the announcer heralded over the speakers, and the familiar sound of the HellState intro began to play. Jordyn arrived in a vermillion flourish of her coat to cheers and shouts, and then stalked forward to the very front of the stage. She stood there, unmoving, and wore an impassive face for a long moment under the flickering light of camera flashes, before her face twisted into the widest, most evil grin she could manage. She drew both Jekyll and Hyde, levelling the pair of pistols out across the crowd to an explosive fanfare of applause and approval.

“That was Synn as Dmitri, everyone!”

Jordyn holstered her guns and waggled an aristocratic gloved finger at the audience as she casually stepped away. She barely made it down the stairs on the opposite side when she was immediately waylaid by Melanie running up to her.

“You were so cool!” Melanie exclaimed, once again bouncing with excitement. “You were amazing!”

“What happened to your costume?!” Jordyn looked at the girl hidden beneath the trenchcoat in shock. Very nude breasts could be glimpsed within the gap of the coat. “Are you alright?!”

“You didn’t see? Oh my god!” Melanie danced in place. “I totally ripped it! It’s all busted! I can’t wait to see all the pictures!”

“I was like, twenty people back,” Jordyn admitted, conscientiously closing the trenchcoat around Melanie and buttoning it for her. “I didn’t see, but I definitely heard something. They made a huge commotion, right after you went up.”

“I know, right!” Melanie danced in place ecstatically. “It was crazy!”

“Whose coat is this?”

“It’s…” Melanie looked perplexed. “That one judge guy’s? I don’t think I know his name? But, he was super nice, and he even invited me to a big party later!”

“I think I know just who you mean,” Jordyn smiled thoughtfully. “Let me see what’s left of your Blaire top! How bad is it?”

* * *

“No way in hell,” Fletcher shook his head adamantly. “We just fixed all of this.”

“Yeah, you ‘fixed’ it, alright,” Foxy said sarcastically. “I think too many honest results have been getting ‘fixed’ around here in these cosplay contests, and that’s a problem.”

“We just got it all figured out all over again, and just in time,” Joe said helplessly, holding up his hands. “If Fletcher says there’s anything… circumspect, at all, then this is all we can do, right now!”

“What the hell is going on?” Ghost Wine demanded, trotting over from where she’d been sitting in the audience.

“We had to change the contest results,” Fletcher explained, holding up the re-evaluated legal pad Joe had just finished drawing up. “We took out Foxy’s votes.”

“Finally, someone who’ll listen to reason,” Foxy said in exasperation, turning to appeal to Ghost Wine. “Don’t you think it’s awfully suspicious how—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ghost Wine glared, not looking towards him. “Does it change who won?”

“Yeah,” Joe confirmed, leaning forward to point at names on the notepad Fletcher had. “It’s totally different. The award for—”

“Good,” Ghost Wine interrupted, taking the contest results and slapping them on the staff table. “Then, I’m happy. Can we get this asshat Foxy out of here, now?”

“Keep it down, you guys’re gonna throw me off,” Dave complained, covering the head of the mic and leaning away from it. Taking a deep breath, he prepared the last audio clip of the day on his laptop and brought the microphone back up. “Last—but definitely not least—we have Brady, cosplaying Ogre King Jötunn, from Journey to the Western River!”

The King of the Ogres bobbed slowly into view as Brian carefully helped Brady navigate the steps, and then the hulking mass of muscle and violence was stomping into the spotlight, bulging arms held out in a fearsome pose that promised carnage to anyone unlucky enough to be within his grasp. Between the enormous teeth of the Ogre’s snarling grin and the sheer size of the costume, several of the photographers in front subconsciously backed up a step.

The crowd thundered with applause and shouts of approval, and the Ogre King raised his arms higher in response, eliciting even more ardent screams and shouts. The flickering flashes of the photographers snapping shot after shot even looked like a magic spell bursting towards the oversized creature, and Brady shifted the bulk of his costume as if to angrily ward off the offending lights.

Unlike all the cosplayers who’d preceded him, Brady didn’t receive an exit cue. When the Western River Evil Marches theme ended, Brian hopped up onto the stage and guided Brady several steps back and out of the way, before the Darkmask minion ducked down and out of view again. A cheer or two went out from the audience at Brian, surprisingly, but no one seemed surprised they were having the Ogre King remain on stage, because he was sure to win one of the major awards.

“For our first of the AnimeCon Cosplay Contest awards, we have Judge’s Choice, with a five hundred dollar prize! And, this year’s winner is… Synn Cosplay, with Dmitri Dhampir!”

“What,” Jordyn blurted out in surprise. Applause and cheering sounded out across the event room for her, and she still felt stunned as the cosplayers in line next to her turn towards her. I won? I really won?

She strode as quickly as she could back up towards the stage, embarrassed and elated in equal measure. I mean, I know I did a really great job this year with Dmitri… but I really won an award?!

“Let’s have a huge round of applause for Synn, everybody!”

What. Chloe glared out at the enthusiastic audience in growing anger and disgust. It felt like they were mocking her, like she’d taken a punch to the gut and everyone found it terribly funny. Why the fuck are they clapping like monkeys when I’m the one being hurt, here? Why would SHE win, in that generic red piece of shit? Is this really where we’re all at, right now? A DIVERSITY win, instead of something that somebody actually fucking earns? I can’t believe this. I literally can’t believe this.

That airheaded bimbo beside her in line wearing only the trenchcoat was cheering and actually jumping in place like a brainless buffoon at hearing Synn had won Judge’s Choice. Can we not? Can we just fucking not?

“Next up, we have the prize for Superior Craftsmanship, a seven hundred and fifty-dollar prize! I think we can all agree that the one who deserves that the most this year is… Brady, with his Ogre King!”

Brady raised the Ogre King’s arms again in a gesture of triumph, but most surprised by the announcement was Sarah. Her head immediately snapped over towards where Foxy was at the back of the room. He met eyes with her, seemed to mentally calculate for a moment, and then his expression finally eased into a smile, and he gave her a thumbs up. Like a yellow sunbeam piercing through the storm of uncertainty, Sarah felt hope welling up inside her, bright and clear. That could mean…

“Finally, for our grand prize of two thousand dollars!” The announcer paused for dramatic effect. “Winner of AnimeCon’s Best of Show is—Sarah Star, with Vampire Princess Marcilla!”

He did it somehow, Sarah thought to herself, beaming with pride as she lifted her skirts and elegantly made her way back up onto the stage. It’s so hard with everyone out to get me. To stay relevant. To not just become another cosplay has-been, old news. I worked so hard, everyone. I still have what it takes.

* * *

Attendees were streaming out the doors of the cosplay contest after its conclusion, but dozens and dozens milled about to chat and discuss with each other, many of the contestants themselves lingering around to take photos with fans. Across the hall from the event room, a thin Chinese girl glowered, watching with angry eyes as Foxy led a dark-haired, bubbly-looking girl out of the room. She’s… she’s wearing his coat!

“Mary, hey,” Foxy called over to the pouting Chinese girl as he slipped his wallet out of his back pocket. “My new friend here, her cosplay ripped. Could you head on into the vendors room before it closes and grab a T-shirt for us, real quick?”

I’m not your fucking slave, you— Mary’s retort died before she could spit it out as she watched Foxy produce a pair of fifty-dollar bills and passed them over to her. A golden flicker seemed to shimmer in the air between the notes of currency, and Mary swallowed down her previous sentiments. I guess I could make a quick trip?

“Okay. Yeah,” Mary agreed quickly. The sense of enmity and frustration at being ignored as she’d waited outside the cosplay contest room was fading away fast. We’re all adults, here, after all. He was just busy. Foxy’s a really important person here, of course he’s busy. Holding a grudge over his circumstances would be… pretty petty of me, wouldn’t it?

Besides, Mary smirked, sizing up this new young girl. She was young and pretty, but the positively vacuous smile she wore put Mary’s heart at ease. She’s just a bauble—just a pretty face to bring around, to help everyone understand Foxy’s worth. I’m the real deal, he said he thought I was better than everyone else. He’s giving ME agency to spend the money on his behalf, isn’t he? If that doesn’t show which of us girls he really places trust with, then what does?

“I suppose I should be thanking you?” Sarah said warily as she approached Foxy, the long train of her dress pulled up and suspended from the floor in her arms.

“No, It’s not big deal,” Foxy sighed in apparent exasperation. “I wanted you to be able to hand out the awards, you deserve that. But, I guess there’s too many people who’ve wormed their way into event administration that’re out to get you. I at the very least had to make sure you didn’t walk away with nothing. I mean, look at you—Sarah, you look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Sarah responded in a neutral voice, but in her heart was unexpectedly felt warm and fluttery. It seemed like out of everyone here, Foxy was the only one who actually wanted her to shine. He understands. He just wants everyone to see how amazing I can be. That’s why tried so hard to help me. That’s why he invited me to his get together.

“So, where’s your party again?” Sarah asked. “I guess I could make an appearance, after I change.”

“The Grand Wingfield Hotel, just a little ways down the street from the convention center. Here, I can write down the room number for you,” he suggested, patting for his pockets for a moment before seeming to realize he wasn’t wearing his trenchcoat anymore. “Whoops. Hey, Melaneko!”

“That’s me!” Melanie chirped out, spinning away from a group of guys wanting to chat with her back to face Foxy. “Melaneko Cosplay, at your service!”

“Do you mind if I…?” Foxy reached down into one of the front pockets of the coat draped over her shoulders in an ambiguous way, grasping for the pen and paper he’d kept there.

“Eep!” Melanie yelped in surprise, face flushing and that wide grin of hers reappearing.

“Sorry, thanks,” Foxy chuckled in an offhand manner, turning back to Sarah. “I’m gonna give you the room number—we’re on the second floor— and then my number, too. In case you need to get in touch with me for anything.”

“Okay,” Sarah said, glancing from Foxy to Melanie and back again. “Just… again, so you know. I’m not that kind of girl, alright?”

“What kind of girl?” Melanie blinked.

“The you kind of girl,” Foxy laughed. “She means you look like a pervert, or a flasher or something, wearing just a trenchcoat like that.”

“You do,” Sarah admitted with a straight face.

“I… yeah? I guess I kinda do!” Melanie laughed. “Aw, geez. Now I’m gonna wanna try flashing someone.”

“Haven’t you already?” Foxy joked.

“I’ll see you later, then, Foxy,” Sarah said, giving a polite wave and taking her leave.

“Later,” he waved, slipping an arm around Melanie’s shoulder in a suave motion and guiding her away from the other dudes trying to get her attention. “Mary’ll be back in a bit. There’s lots of cool late-night activities around the con and elsewhere. Interested in checking anything out?”

Green sparks seemed to sputter throughout Melanie’s vision, and she looked at her extravagant and charming new friend with eyes that were dilating just a bit too far in the light of the convention center’s halls.

“Fuck yeah, I do!”

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