#lyse hext

[jelleefiish]

Oh Lyse Hext how I miss you....

doodle done @ work

[mythiclings]

Fanart for StB's anniversary no.4 - "Liberty or(and) Death"

From 06/20.

Based off of Saturnino Herrán painting "La Ofrenda"

[anneapocalypse]

WIP Whenever

Thank you for the tag, @redwayfarers! I actually have something to share this week! While I'm still in the middle of notes and outlining and a whole lot of canon review for Stormblood fic stuff, but I've done some writing here and there also.

Tagging: YOU! 🫵🏻 Yes I usually do individual tags (with my usual "and anyone else who wants to share," which is always sincerely meant!) but today I really want to invite anyone reading this who has some creative work in progress to share it. Writing, art, an in-progress gpose, whatever it may be.

Here's a bit from an as-yet-untitled Ariane and Lyse fic, expanding on a canon scene in Stormblood.

***

Ariane caught up to Lyse southeast of Mol Iloh, her red vest standing out brightly against the tall grass, even in the waning sun. "Oh, Ariane! Are you here to help too? Great!" Lyse shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, her eyes darting to the ground before looking back up. "So… I suppose Dorbei told you that the children and I are gathering 'fuel' for the fires, did he?"

Ariane nodded, a bit perplexed, and Lyse went on, "It'll need to be dried before they can burn it, of course. You, um… you do understand what we're here for, right?"

Ariane squinted. "Yes…?"

"Right! Of course! It's just… some people can be a bit squeamish about this sort of stuff."

Ariane stared uncomprehending for a moment longer, then burst out laughing. "Lyse, you do know I grew up a farm girl, yes? I've handled manure before, I promise."

Lyse too burst out laughing, her awkwardness swiftly vanishing. "That's right! I do forget sometimes, I'll be honest. You have to understand, I've spent so much time around the Archons, pretending to be one, and well… I love them, I don't mean it like that! But you know how they can be a bit…"

Ariane was still laughing, trying to imagine Urianger or Papalymo gathering dung in a basket. She thought too of Alphinaud and his pride in gathering firewood in Dravania… "Yes, I suppose they can be a bit. Nevertheless, I'm sure they'd buck up and do it if it was needed."

Lyse grinned. "But you've never minded getting your hands dirty, have you? Anyway, we're trying to get four piles each. Good luck! And keep an eye on the children while you're at it, eh?"

[veeples]

i am your lover, smitten, straining your tea

prompt: tea/coffee

word count: ~950

happy wolyse week <3 i was hoping to write a much longer piece for the week, and i probably still will! but i don't think i'll finish in time... but i also had an idea for the prompt tea/coffee, so i ran to write something short and sweet.

i don't have bsky, but ty to wordybird.bsky.social for hosting!

~*~

Bearing the heat in Gyr Abania proves to be a challenge, even for Haldswys.

Her experience in growing up first on a tropical island and then working around the harbors dotting La Noscea's coast doesn't give her much aide. Wet, humid heat she can handle — and even enjoys! The heat around Ala Mhigo is both heavy and dry, the unforgiving inferno of a well tended oven. Like most mornings, Haldswys wakes to a mouth tacky with dried saliva and a film of sweat on her forehead and the top of her chest.

Lyse is still in bed. She turns one way then rolls back just as quickly, restless and likely close to waking. For a moment Haldswys considers pulling Lyse into her arms so she can wake her beloved with gentle kisses to her neck and shoulders. Tempting, but the idea of pressing their too warm bodies together makes Haldswys squirm in distaste. She settles for sneaking away from the bed to start their breakfast.

By the time Lyse emerges from their bedroom with her thinnest robe wrapped around her, Haldswys is setting down the pot of tea in the middle of their kitchen table cramped with dishes.

"Oh you're a sweetheart," Lyse moans in appreciation as she nears. "I'm starved."

Haldswys smiles and meets Lyse's upturned face for a kiss. Her hand drifts to slide across Lyse's hip to her bottom for an indulgent palm full. Lyse steals a pinch of Haldswys's ass, lightning fast, before they part.

They take their seats, knees knocking against each other under the table. Haldswys set out a veritable spread for them to choose from: thinly sliced cucumber and quartered tomatoes sprinkled with salt, a small selection of fresh cheeses and olives, both green and black, a plate of golden bread rolls crusted with sesame seeds, little jars of fruit jam and honey. Slivers of green melon glistening with condensation, a small bunch of fat red grapes. The only thing Haldswys made herself is the pan of eggs and beef sausages sliced into thick coins. It's a simple dish, which suits them both fine. Haldswys isn't unskilled in the way of cooking, but she bears little joy for it.

Haldswys piles her plate with a portion of eggs and sausage, fruit and bread. She leaves the wedge of goat cheese that Lyse likes the best and puts another helping of melon on Lyse's plate when Lyse only takes one slice.

"I'm always surprised you enjoy drinking hot tea with weather like this." Haldswys says as Lyse fills her glass, then Haldswys's. "The sun's barely up and it's already stiffling."

"Hot tea to keep against hot weather," Lyse says simply as she dollops a spoonful of honey into Haldswys's glass. "That's what Papalymo always said, at least."

Haldswys doesn't know if she agrees, but to hear Lyse speak at all about Papalymo is a rarity, so she says nothing. She tucks this little scrap about their fallen friend away with the rest of her paltry knowledge of the Lalafell. That she never tried harder to know the fellow Scion still smarts as one of her many regrets.

"It just feels right, you know? Even on the hottest morning I don't feel right without a hot drink to start the day," Lyse's eyelashes flutter as she takes her first sip. Haldswys admires the faint smile that blooms. "But you don't have to drink it with me if you're overheated. I wouldn't be mad if you wanted to have cold juice instead."

"It's fine," Haldswys takes her own glass carefully — a beautiful glass with delicate gold filigree along the rim, but no handle — and brings it to her mouth. It's perfectly sweet, exactly as she likes it. "I like sharing a pot of tea with you. It's an important part of my morning now too."

Lyse blushes, a sweet rose coloring her brown skin. She smiles, a little shy and very pleased. It warms Haldswys with syrupy satisfaction to see such delight radiate from Lyse. Whether it's finding the juiciest and best fruits in the market or offering Lyse genuine truths from her heart, inspiring joy in Lyse is one of her favorite parts of loving her. Lyse's joy feels as close to her as her own. To see her happy is to know that same happiness in herself.

Under the table Lyse hooks her ankle around Haldswys's, very fond and affectionate.

"I swear you'll make my teeth rot one of these days with how good you are," Lyse sweeps up a torn piece of bread through the golden oil pooling at the bottom of the eggs. "I wanna do something nice for you too since you made us such a nice breakfast. How about I brew us some mint tea and chill it in the ice box to have in the evening? And!" Lyse points a finger at her, suddenly stern. "I'll clean up after breakfast so you can take first shower."

"I don't mind helping," Haldswys protests. "I can at least dry dishes."

"You may not mind helping, but I do," Lyse says. There's little room for argument in her tone, all Commander Hext now. "Do you understand?"

Haldswys tips her chin down in surrender, a smile curving her lips.

They settle into pleasant conversation about their plans for the day, picking at food until they drain the pot of its tea. It is a perfectly lazy morning, the light streaming in from their window warming from rosy to pale gold. The day awaits, with its pressing heat and its crowded markets and their list of errands, and Haldswys finds herself considering making them another pot of tea.

Anything to hang this shared morning in time a little longer, keep it like a held breath.

[mythiclings]

Fanwork no.1 I made for 2026 stormblood's anniversary.

Posted to bluesky and X on 06.17

[veeples]

stages of intimacy 05: getting handsy under the table

pairing: haldswys ostornwyn/lyse hext words: 555 | rating: ~m

kels shared this prompt list in the gc and i immediately ran with prompt 05 LOL. some notes: i hc lyse to be a trans woman and i've done my best to approach the terminology that i think she would use that makes sense for her but also would be an indication to her transness, so i hope i did ok!! the fic is under the read more just in case since it gets a little saucy.

There are fingers crawling up the length of Lyse's thigh. She almost wishes she hadn't worn a dress with such a high slit.

Across the grand table laden full with dishes of roasted meats and vegetables, succulent fruits and fragrant grains, the other leaders of the Alliance and the Scions chat jovially. For once they've gathered for a celebration, granted a rare moment to not only gather their breaths, but to enjoy the relative peace. Lyse is happy to see everyone so at ease, especially her beloved Warrior of Light, who is sitting next to her, sneaking her hand along the crease between her hip and thigh.

The callouses on Hal's fingers make the drag on her skin almost sinful; Lyse shivers, snaps her eyes to shoot Hal a disdainful look. Hal isn't even looking at her. She's laughing at something someone's said, the Sultana, she thinks. It's a bit hard for Lyse to focus on anything beyond the hand moving closer to cup between her thighs.

"Commander Hext, you're looking unusually flustered." The voice calls Lyse's attention away, a momentary distraction she's relieved to have. Aymeric's second in command, Lucia, levels her with a primly quirked brow. "Is it the drink?"

"No— well, yes. Maybe a little." Lyse flounders and grabs at her water goblet. Lucia's lips purse into a skeptical line, skirts her eyes to Hal's seat. Something like suspicion lights in her pale eyes.

Under the table, Hal has moved onto fondling her soft penis lightly, her thumb rubbing her clit in slow, sensuous circles. Heat flares low in her stomach, filling her with every stroke until she can feel the blood rush to her face. It's all she can do to swallow down the moan building in her throat and offer Lucia a strained smile.

"Wine just goes right through me! I'm a bit of a light weight, you know?" Lyse continues, flapping her hand, hoping she can use the higher pitch of her voice to lean into the pretense of drunkenness. "And it's really good wine! Very delicious, I might want to take some home with me if I can."

Lucia looks unconvinced. Her scrutiny does little to quiet the fire in Lyse — no, instead it's like the possibility that they might be found out stokes the blaze to roar even hotter. For a moment Lyse fears Lucia might call her bluff or press her by the way her eyes narrow. Then, blessedly, Aymeric says something and Lucia looks away, the weight of her attention lifting.

There's no time for relief. Hal hadn't stopped touching her the whole time, and now she's thumbing the sensitive fold of skin on the underside of her clit back and forth. Her nerves light up in a bright frenzy, caught between the moderate pressure squeezing her shaft and the fine point of pleasure Hal teases at relentlessly. Lyse grips the silverware hard enough to smart to ride out the sensation. She looks at Hal again, desperate now for her to see what she's doing to her. Hal is already looking at her, lips lifted in maddening smugness, at odds with the warmth and affection she finds in her eyes. Lyse swears she'll get her back later, when she least expects it, see how quiet she can be when she gets her hands and mouth on her.

[t-l-machine]

Would Thancred flirt with a fish?

The only way to verify this information is to read my Papalymo and Lyse adventure! The last chapter is out NOW: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87164461/chapters/231183726

[trans-emet-selch]

People's hatred of Lyse as a character really speaks to how much they actually care about immigrants and refugees as people