#oc Hector

[perseus-from-the-basement]

You see a group of figures sitting around a fire. They look humanoid from a distance, but a closer look reveals they may not be flesh and blood at all

They don’t seem hostile… maybe you could ask them some questions?

Perseus’ friends are now available for the next 10 asks!

[kyoukorpse]

Hector Goethe Lysander's second spouse who he adopted eight children with, three of which are still currently alive and one with a very big influence and expansive family of his own. Hector died 150~ years ago but was brought back to life in the last couple of years by antagonistic forces in an attempt to lure and kill Lysander. The attempts to control him failed and he fled and found work in a fighting area on an island known for it's exciting nightlife. The party found him there, and he was reunited with Lysander throughout several ordeals the party ended up helping with. They've been together again ever since.

[envihellbender]

Twink flirts with a huge fat older man he meets in a train station, lures him home and forcefeeds the not so secret glutton into higher echelons of obesity.

Characters: Corvi, Hector, Aidan (OCs)

Content: slurs/homophobia, extreme weight gain, forced feedism, kidnapping, medical experimentation

Corvi knew precisely what he would do with Hector the second he laid eyes on the man after he had heard his wheezing gravely tone. Had the man kept quiet, Corvi probably would have gone throughout his life never having noticed the man. The moment the first syllable left Hector’s mouth, he had sighed his fate. Corvi had just gotten an iced mocha from the Starbucks and was checking to see what platform his train back home was leaving from. He supposed he was dressed somewhat revealingly - black jean shorts that just about reached his finger tips, a loose Misfits t-shirt, and a pair of grubby old Vans trainers. He guessed he could see why it would warrant stares but it was the middle of August, it was 27 degrees Celsius outside. When he was bouncing on his heels in front of the man, probably unintentionally emphasising his behind, he heard the man behind him loudly proclaim to his friend:

“God, that’s not right, that bloke isn’t a fucking bloke any more,” he snarled. Corvi glanced over his shoulder, doing a double take when he saw the source. Not even the wheezing exhausted tone prepared him for the bloated mass behind him, with two large breasts resting on the handlebars of his special adapted mobility scooter and his food piled on top of them. His gut was taking up so much space there was a large platfform before the front wheel to stop it from dragging along the ground. He noticed Corvi’s shocked stare and his slug-like lips smirked proudly. “What you looking at faggot? Wanna know what a real man looks like?”

“Well, big talk for the fattest pig at the county fair,” Corvi said simply with a shrug. Hector spluttered in response, covering his stack of burgers in saliva.

“Back in my day we beat fags like you half to death and then raped them until they were corpses.” His tone had become a growl in anger as his cheeks grew red merging into his lightening ginger hair that was barely visible from his receding hairline and his fat forehead.

“That sounds pretty faggy to me,” Corvi sighed, getting out his phone slyly. “You know if you really do want this arse of mine you keep staring at I might not say no. Lucky for you I like big guys.” He pretended to be typing a text message and took a selfie with Hector in the background. He clicked on it and sent the photo to his contact labelled “Aidan” with a green heart after it. He added the message ‘how does this one look?’

***

Corvi was sat on one of Aidan’s medical tables swinging his legs when Hector began groaning and spluttering, his massive shapeless arms pulling against his restraints as his piggish brown eyes began to struggle to open. Aidan didn’t say anything, just smirked and turned to the machine that controlled all of Hector’s new tubes. Corvi jumped onto his feet and grinned, a wide toothy smile that showed his snagged tooth, his catlike green eyes narrowed as his bleach blond hair fell in his face.

“Hey, Mister, remember me? The fag you were gonna beat to death?” Corvi taunted, as he did he heard a clatter come from Aidan whose hazel eyes flickered towards Corvi in protective panic. He’d neglected to mention that bit.

“Wha- what the fuck are you-” Hector said almost unintelligibly from behind the oxygen mask and the feeding tube that had been shoved into his nose and mouth respectively.

“Aide, babe, can you please-” Before Corvi finished there was a beep followed by a churning noise as a thick yellow liquid began flowing through the tube and into Hector’s throat. He tried to resist the lard from going into his mouth, causing it to drip on his lips and pool in his neck roll. The lard kept going however, covering the lower half of his face and his mask until he had no choice to swallow it. “There we go, that wasn’t so hard? Resisting isn’t gonna get you anywhere, piggy. Just gonna mean you’re going to hurt yourself.” Hector groaned and struggled, choking and causing his face to burn red until Aidan finally turned his feed off for a few moments.

“What the hell are you doing? Where am I?” Hector gasped, his stomach groaning in protest. Corvi giggled in response, it seemed the appetite stimulants were working already. Hector groaned and frowned, it seemed he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“In my basement- well, our basement. Me and my fag boyfriend liked the look of you so, we kept you.”

“How- how did you- why-”

“Why? I told you. You’re the fattest pig at the county fair, remember? I love a good animal, especially a champion, and I’m going to make you bigger,” Corvi declared slapping Hector’s belly. Aidan let out a quiet laugh as Corvi began poking at Hector’s fat, watching it ripple and wobble, giggling as it made their patient snarl and make snide, horrific comments as if there was anything he could do but grow.

[zipsunz]

every day, sunrise to sunset 🌇

[dacenturion]

That scene in Book 6 where Paris gathers courage and follows Hector riding into battle. I always thought it was so cute because it’s one of the few scenes where the brothers really show that they care about each other. Paris is like “Let’s go, brother!!” And Hector is like, “sigh…my little bro….”

Drawing the horses was SO HARD

[insidekatmind]

Friends-Hector Fort

The silence in Hector’s room is heavy, interrupted only by the ticking of the rain against the window. You sit next to him on the bed, legs crossed beneath you, while he stares at an undefined point in front of him. Today’s match was a disaster, and you know it better than anyone else. The weight of disappointment clings to him—in the tension in his shoulders, in the way his hands are tangled in his blond hair.

“Hector…” you whisper, placing a hand on his forearm. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t respond either. You know how much he hates losing, how much he blames himself even when it’s not his fault. So you do the only thing you can: you stay.

After a moment, he sighs and closes his eyes. “I don’t even know why you try. You know I don’t want to talk.”

“I know.” You nod softly, letting your hand slide down to his. It’s warm, strong, but his fingers tremble slightly under your touch. “I’m not here to make you talk. Just to remind you that you’re not alone.”

He turns toward you, his blue eyes darker than usual, shadows blending with the soft glow of the lamp beside the bed. He’s so close you can feel his breath brushing against your skin.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The air vibrates with something electric, an invisible thread holding you both in this moment. Then he does something you don’t expect—his thumb brushes over the back of your hand, slow, hesitant.

“You always understand me,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

You don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s you, maybe it’s him, or maybe it’s simply inevitable. Your lips meet with a tenderness that’s almost painful, as if you’re both afraid of breaking something fragile. The kiss is slow, uncertain at first, but then Hector holds onto you, his fingers sliding against your back, as if he’s afraid to let you go.

When you pull away, he stays there, his forehead resting against yours, his breath uneven. “I didn’t expect that,” he whispers.

You smile softly, brushing your thumb along his cheek. “Me neither.”

But neither of you moves away. Hector approaches you again, kissing you and you kiss him back, hugging him. Hector responds with eagerness, pulling you onto his lap, his arms holding you tight as his kisses deepen. He buries his face against your neck, his breath hot against your skin, his calloused hands roaming over your back, your hips, as if trying to memorize everything.

"I need you," he whispers against your ear, his voice thick with emotion. "Even when I don't want to admit it."

You can feel his heart pounding through his chest against yours, the urgency in the way he holds you against him. He needs this, needs you, and the knowledge of that fills you with a strange mixture of desire and comfort.

You pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. "I'm right here," you say, your voice soft but firm. "I'm not going anywhere."

A small, almost vulnerable smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "You promise?" The question, simple and sincere, pierces through you. It's the kind of thing he would never say to anyone else.

You lean in, brushing a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I promise," you say, your fingers tightening around his. You can feel the heat of his body through the thin layer of clothing, the tension still lingering in every line of his broad shoulders.

[reallyhardydraws]

💙❤️💜it's their time!!! 💙❤️💜

commissions open!

[chewytoothmeats]

Proof of Youth

For today, I really wanted to remake a piece I made ages ago of my OC, Hector Kingfisher. The original is something I look back on fondly - I was really in my feelings when I made it - so I really wanted to remake it and keep the spirit of it. Hector's changed designs since the original's creation, and, well, I've gotten better as an artist. So, there you go!

[valiwrites]

THE REVEAL

pairing: hector fort x reader

type: fluff

warnings: none

MASTERLIST

<><><><><><>

Héctor Fort had always been in the spotlight. The young star of FC Barcelona, rising through the ranks, had a devoted fan base that followed his every move. The media loved him too—his natural talent, his charm, and his good looks made him the perfect poster boy for the club. But behind the fame, the pressure, and the adoring crowds, there was something he had kept hidden.

Her.

They had been together for a little over a year now, and despite the intensity of their love, they had agreed to keep their relationship a secret. Héctor knew his fans idolized him, and any hint of a relationship would send them into a frenzy. His girlfriend understood that too. The constant scrutiny, the rumors—it wasn’t something they wanted to deal with.

But hiding it wasn’t easy. Every time they were out together, they had to be cautious—sunglasses, hats, different exits from restaurants. Héctor hated not being able to openly show her off. She was his world, his anchor when the noise of football and fame became too loud. Still, they both agreed it was for the best. At least for now.

It was El Clásico day, the biggest match of the season: FC Barcelona vs. Real Madrid. The Camp Nou was packed to capacity, and the energy was electric. Héctor felt it too—nerves, adrenaline, excitement. He had trained for this moment, and now, standing on the pitch, he felt the weight of the occasion pressing down on him. His girlfriend was somewhere in the VIP section, watching from afar, just like she always did. The only person who truly knew him beyond the player everyone saw on the field.

The game was intense, as always, with both teams fighting for dominance. Every touch of the ball was met with thunderous roars from the crowd, and the pressure was immense. But Héctor was focused. His mind was sharp, and his movements precise.

Then, in the 78th minute, the moment came.

Barcelona had been pressing high, and the ball came to Héctor just outside the box. He took a quick touch, looked up, and in one fluid motion, curled the ball past the goalkeeper and into the top corner of the net.

The stadium erupted.

Héctor stood there for a moment, letting the noise wash over him, the adrenaline surging through his veins. Normally, he would celebrate with his teammates, but tonight, something was different. He had been keeping this part of his life hidden for too long, and in this moment of triumph, something inside him snapped.

Without a second thought, Héctor sprinted toward the VIP section. His teammates called after him, confused, but he didn’t stop. His heart pounded in his chest, but this time it wasn’t from the goal. It was from what he was about to do.

And then he saw her. Sitting there, wide-eyed, her hand covering her mouth in disbelief.

The moment their eyes met, nothing else mattered. Not the game, not the cameras, not the thousands of fans watching. It was just her.

Héctor climbed the barrier separating the pitch from the stands and ran up to where she was sitting. The crowd was in chaos, unsure of what was happening. He could hear the gasps and murmurs growing louder as people started to realize what was going on.

When he reached her, he didn’t hesitate. He pulled her up from her seat and kissed her deeply, right there, in front of everyone. The stadium fell into a stunned silence for a split second, before it erupted again—this time not just in celebration of the goal, but in shock and excitement over what they had just witnessed.

Cameras flashed wildly, and the commentators were losing their minds. The fans were screaming, a mixture of surprise, joy, and disbelief flooding the air. The secret was out, and there was no going back.

When they finally pulled apart, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide, Héctor smiled softly. “I couldn’t hide it anymore,” he said, his voice just loud enough for her to hear over the noise.

She looked at him, still stunned, but there was a warmth in her eyes. “You’re crazy,” she whispered, laughing softly.

“Only for you,” he replied, kissing her again, ignoring the world around them.

As Héctor jogged back to the pitch, his heart still racing, he could feel the eyes of everyone on him. The fans were chanting his name louder than ever before. The entire stadium had witnessed the moment, and the news was already spreading like wildfire. Social media was no doubt blowing up with pictures and videos of the kiss.

But for the first time, Héctor didn’t care.

He had scored in the biggest match of the season, but that goal wasn’t what made the night unforgettable. It was the moment he finally let the world see the person he loved more than anything else. And standing there on the pitch, with his teammates surrounding him and the crowd still chanting, he realized something:

It was worth it.

[artuurle]

"who knows if i draw them like this again" - says the person who immediately draws them like this even more (and a godpoke as a treat) . shut upppppp

[sealrock]

elaine... 😩💍

[perseus-from-the-basement]

hello little orphans. what do you think of your dear boy perseus?

Ask 10/10

The event is over! Thank you all so much for all the asks, I’ll see you next week with more new stuff!

[kyoukorpse]

more doodles of these two. crying.

[boxbusiness]

*Knee-slaps*

[somereaderinblue]

In your Odysseus of Troy au what's the relationship between Telemachus and Paris.

Does Telemachus like him or he hates him for making his dad sad?

And does Paris really want Telemachus to be his son or does he just see him as a tool to make Troy stronger?

Unserious answer:

Paris: Your atta will love me, right? He was literally given to me to love me.

Telemachus, booping his nose: Bah!

Paris: I'll take that as a yes.

Serious answer:

Paris' first son was Corythus. How old was he when Paris left him & Oenone? As old as Telemachus was when taken from Ithaca and his mother's arms? Was he big enough to take his first steps but small enough for Paris to carry on his back while he herded sheep?

One thing's for sure: Corythus is more likely to know Paris' back than his face. And that's arguably more painful than a child not knowing what their father looks like, period.

Paris insists that Telemachus is his son. He is besotted with the babe, fawns and dotes on him, spoils him with the luxuries and riches Paris himself never got to enjoy in his childhood.

But at his core, Paris views Telemachus as a second chance; a do-over at best & a replacement at worst. If he can be a good father to this boy, who is not his blood, surely it means something, it means he's not a horrible person, not a complete failure, it means he can atone somewhat-

Still, anyone can sire a child, but it takes a man to be a father. And Paris, as many were wont to remind him, was no man.

Telemachus Pasipheros wasn't living up to his name as his wailing continued. He's been fussy for days and fitful for nights, irritable when not clingy and the fact that Paris was the one who reacted fast enough to grab the boy before Odysseus could spoke volumes of the Ithacan's exhaustion.

The prince struggled to keep a squirming Pasipheros on his lap as the boy howled and howled like a little wolf into his ears so loudly, Paris wouldn't be surprised if his earrings were caked in blood after this. Offered toys were smacked or tossed aside, words of comfort drowned under the child's woes and more and more stares were drawn towards the eye of the storm Paris was suffocating in.

"Hush, hush....." Paris murmured, awkwardly bouncing the fussy toddler.

"NO! NOOOOOOO!" Pasipheros roared with the raw ferocity of a wronged child. "NO! NO! NO!"

"Don't shout." it was almost as horrible as the eyes picking him apart with vulture-like precision. "Don't-"

Pasipheros' hand smacks him in the eye as his tantrum reaches a volume loud enough to make Hector visibly cringe.

"CORY, PLEASE!" Paris snapped.

Silence, at last.

But it was far from a reprieve.

Paris opened his misty eyes (when had they closed?) and the sight of Hector's furrowed brows and pinched lip, Andromache's tense shoulders and Odysseus' penetrating gaze, that damn eye the silver of arrowheads rather than coins, almost made him wish Pasipheros' hand had simply gouged both his eyeballs out to spare him this.

Pasipheros' lips quivered, fat tears spilling past chubby cheeks as he cried, softer than his previous sounds, and all the more damning for it.

"It's his nap time." Odysseus said and his son is in Charis' arms before he even finishes talking. "If you'll excuse us."

"Of course." Andromache waved them away while Hector continued to look at Paris with eyes too pitiful to be a glare but too tense to be anything resembling comfort.

Paris also leaves, but does not follow Odysseus. That night, he finds another wooden sheep on his pillow. He adds the figurine to his growing flock.

Odysseus and Pasipheros spend the next day in the nursery. Paris doesn't visit them. He sits in the courtyard alone, and the silence is still no less damning than before.

[dacenturion]

Hector of Troy…

Im rereading the Iliad so I drew my buddy Hector. HE DESERVED BETTER, FOREVER A HECTOR APOLOGIST

@kebriones thank you for awakening my Hector obsession