#* ⟢ GALEN ❮ edits ❯

[svnsetromance]

Jyn Erso + Maarva Andor's monologue It's easy for the dead to tell you to fight, and maybe it's true, maybe fighting is useless. Perhaps it's too late. But I'll tell you this: if I could do it again, I'd wake up early. And be fighting those bastards from the start.

@lgbtqcreators — creator bingo / free choice

[art-question-mark]

“Bodhi leaned forward in his seat, fully intent on Jyn. "You're Galen's daughter?" he asked.

He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He looked almost as pathetic as she did.

"You know him?" she asked.

What did he think of the stranger in her hologram?

"Yes."”

—Rogue One Novelisation by Alexander Freed

[sharkonscariff]

Mystery of lack

Stabbing stars through my back

Forwards, beckon, rebound

Forwards, beckon, rebound.

[primarinite]

oh fuck here's some new guys. been wanting to make some more guild members beyond just shura for when kaira joins the guild and ngl i'm kinda obsessed with these guys rn despite them not being very important

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

Is this anything

[enaelyork]

[Headcanon] Orson Krennic Past life ~

I've always felt frustrated that we don't know much about Krennic's past. So, as always, I felt compelled to think about it.

This is my point on view only, i'm so sorry. [Thats inclued Galen Erso's friendship]

🌔He did not come from a dysfunctional family. He grew up in a loving home where the constant anxiety of surviving hovered over their heads. He no longer counts the number of times he caught his parents calculating on the credits how they were going to make it through the month by hugging each other.

🌔I think Lexrul is an extremely poor planet where survival is difficult. Therefore, I am convinced that Krennic experienced extreme poverty. Although his parents both worked, their salaries were probably not enough to support them. He knows what it means to be hungry, deprived, sleepy and cold. I'm even sure he ended up on the street.

🌔It was in these extremely urgent situations that Krennic understood that he should not expect anything from others. That the problem with being on the wrong side of the line is that everyone around them is too and has a good excuse not to reach out to help them out. He comes to the conclusion that to succeed in life, he must first think about himself, his interests and no longer rely on anyone.

🌔He was always very smart and his parents quickly realized it. Living in such conditions pushes us to adapt quickly and well. They placed all their hopes in him when they sent him to take the entrance exams for Republic Futur Program. It was with this immense pressure on his shoulders and the deep conviction of being better than everyone that he grew up. Perhaps it was when he no longer believed in anything, when he and his family found themselves on the streets again, that he learned that he was accepted. It must have been a consecration that he perceived as a sign of destiny.

🌔Although he keeps in mind all the sacrifices his family made to get to this point. Krennic realizes that his life is light years away from that of adolescents his age and falls into all excesses. Money? Not a problem ! He is intelligent and cunning enough to blend in and manage to make enough friends to not worry about what he consumes. Its natural charm does the rest.

🌔The unlikely friendship he forms with the young Galen Erso is what is most authentic in his life. He won't admit it, but the way others taunted the math genius made him come to his defense. Galen will never know that if no one bothers him since he met Krennic it is because the latter obtained peace by beating a leader of the program in a clandestine betting game in a bar in Brentaal IV. (And maybe also by giving a few well-placed blows.)

🌔Everyone tries to see the best in the other. The complementarity of their relationship makes them a formidable duo. Galen often lectures Krennic on the way he acts and tries to restrain him when he is too impulsive. He teaches him to use his intelligence and his ability to bind people together while Orson teaches him how he must understand the world in which he lives and to sort out his parasitic thoughts.

🌔Galen's naivety and sensitivity touch him in a certain way. Sometimes he wants to preserve them, telling himself that he never had the chance to be able to do so in his life. Like a window open to a world that he will never know but that he can contemplate discreetly.

🌔Many people on the show wonder how a guy as quiet and shy as Galen Erso could be around the rambunctious and insufferable Orson Krennic. Galen, above all, thinks that no one sees what lies behind the ice cap that Krennic has erected around him and feels honored to be the only one to have a glimpse of it.

🌔Besides, he has already caught Krennic doing a good deed. Several times. It’s like a carefully kept secret that seals their deep friendship.

🌔Galen understands that Krennic is bluffing about his life and tries to help him discreetly. Not out of pity. But he believes that Krennic has proven enough to him that he has a good heart to strive to make his life better.

🌔From the moment he left the program to move up the ranks, he made sure his family didn't want for anything. He never mentions it, but his parents have had a solid roof over their heads since the day money stopped being an issue for Orson.

🌔He, more than any officer/employee of the Republic, is aware of how lucky he is to be where he is. He will not give up his place to anyone and will do everything possible to be worthy of this destiny that awaits him.

🌔Krennic wants to be first everywhere. All the time. He doesn't just want to be a part of things, he wants to be the best at everything he does. He probably only lives through the eyes of those who can bring him this prestige. He constantly needs reassurance about his performance because he is such a perfectionist that nothing ever satisfies him. I think that when you have fallen too far down the social ladder (and this is his case), the need to climb back up is no longer enough. You have to constantly be on top of the world and observe the universe from afar to feel safe.

🌔As a boss, Krennic is as much feared as he is appreciated. I am convinced (from my reading of Betrayal and the way Ronan describes it) that Krennic can be kind, fair and correct with his employees. He probably does it to put himself forward and obtain praise or for his performance. But whatever, the result is there.

[lenoreamidala]

i'm jyn erso, daughter of galen and lyra

[zhoras-bitch]

Reigning Passions || Galen x MC

"But I have to believe we will be shown the way, my guiding star."

[soundcrusher]

Tales from the Neutral Zone Part 3

Yea, as the title says. Although, this part doesn't really happen on the Neutral Zone, because it's about Galen and how he met Law Construct in a bar.

Also, there a small extra thing at the end.

I hope all of you don't mind how short this part is, nor the writing. I'm pretty tired. ^^'

Small trigger warning: there's drinking in this one

________________________________________

Galen didn’t like it here.

Granted, he hardly liked any place that wasn’t his medical bay, hab-suit and or the Neutral Zone in general, but there was something about clubs like this one that made Galen want to turn around and leave even before he stepped in them. But considering how most of the crew was in here and a certain copper coloured mech dragged him out of the ship while yelling about “How he needed to get out more”, Galen found himself without much of a choice.

Of course, they could have simply gone to Silverlining’s bar and had a good time there, but it was rare for them to land on a planet and get the green-light from Record to go and have some fun outside the ship. Doesn’t mean Galen had to like the fact that he was dragged here against his will and forced to glare down a colorful drink, while keeping an optic on Copper. And speaking of that crazy nutjob of a mech, he was at least behaving himself and was annoying someone else.

“I would still prefer my room though…” Muttered Galen, as he gave his drink one last glare, before downing the whole thing in one quick swig. Something that caught the attention of an already drunk looking mech, because he came over and sat down next to the grumpy looking kinda-medic. Looking as smug as a drunkard who thinks they had a chance, as he leaned forward. One servo propped his chin up, while the other one slowly swirled his own drink.

“My, my, I’ve never seen a mech swallow that fast. Mind giving me a closer demonstration?” Galen would have gagged at that remmark, if the foul breath of the mech wasn’t already making his tanks churn. But he knew that saying anything would only spur on his uninvited guest to keep on talking. So, to strengthen his nerves, Galen ordered another drink and simply ignored the grounder next to him.

However, the drunkard, who introduced himself as Runningway, did not get the cue and kept on pestering him with crude comments and gestures. So much so, that Galen was already close to grabbing his fourth drink and smashing it into the idiot's face. And after his sixth, he did just that, or better said, he grabbed his drink and was about to show this aft just how much he liked his company, but was stopped by a beautiful grounder walking over to them and getting him to leave, before sitting down himself.

“Ah… I’m sorry if I interrupted something, I just… saw how much you didn’t like his company and decided to get in between before anything bad could happen.”

“Tch, why are you saying sorry? You saved my drink.” He didn’t mean it as a joke, it was an observation after all, but for some reason the new mech found it funny. And Galen found himself laughing along. “Seriously kid, I was seconds away from introducing that aft to my drink, which would have been a shame, because this stuff isn’t cheap and I bet the glass isn’t either.”

“First of all, kid? I’m probably the same age as you, and second, yea. This club is one of the more expensive ones I’ve ever been to. But at least their drinks are amazing.” Chuckled the black and white mech with the purple and green flower details, as he took a sip from his own drink, before continuing. “Although, I prefer staying on our ship and either have movie nights with Moss and Strawberry or read a good story. I’ve started reading that one story about a human detective and a doctor, after Strawberry lent me her data-pad.”

“A shame that hound was just a regular dog and not this big monster everyone thought it was.” Said Galen, before taking a swig from his drink and looking over at the other mech. Who was looking at him with something similar to amazement, maybe even excitement, because he started to go on a rant about how he had to disagree, before jumping to the next story and how much he loved the growing friendship between the detective and doctor. And Galen, to his own surprise, found himself smiling at the enthusiasm and started to give his own opinion too. Sharing some other detective stories he’s read, before revealing that his favorite genre is fantasy.

And maybe it was the engex fault, but Galen felt his face grow warm as a blush formed on it. “Yea… start laughing. The grumpy looking kinda-doc likes fantasy, especially if it involves dragons and romantic plots. Can’t really help it… carrier tended to… yea… I always liked it when he read me berthtime stories. Always put me into recharge right away, or after he finished the story.” Muttered Galen, after downing yet another drink. But before he could even think about his time with his creators, specifically his carrier, Galen’s attention was again grabbed by the beautiful grounder next to him, who started to talk about his favorite genres. And low and behold, he too liked fantasy. Something that got Galen to talk even more, or maybe it’s just the engex getting to him.

Either way, he’ll definitely talk to Silverlining about this day. Not only because the amount of engex he consumed is worrisome to him, but also because he doesn’t know what he should think about the fact that he stood up and started to dance with a stranger, after the two had another round of drinks. Although, that was something sober Galen will have to worry about tomorrow, because party Galen right now was having the time of his life. Twirling the mech in his arms every time the music grew faster, before pulling him back and holding him close. Changing their wild dancing into something softer as soon as the music switched.

And for the first time, Galen found himself relaxing as he stared into the mesmerizing blue optics of the grounder. Mumbling a soft “Sorry” as he leaned down to plant a soft, shy kiss on his dance partner’s lips. Although, even though this action was a surprise for Galen -usually he didn’t kiss anyone he just met- he was more surprised by his dance partner leaning up and meeting him halfway. Causing Galen to experience the same feeling his carrier always described in his stories. And from the looks of it, the slightly smaller grounder experienced something similar.

Their moment might have only lasted for a few seconds, but to them, it almost felt like a lifetime, and Galen found himself wondering if this is what love at first sight felt like, before being distracted by the soft laughter from the other mech. “Heh, my name’s Law Construct, by the way. But everyone I know calls me Con.”

“Galen… I’m…. Galen…” Muttered the kinda-doc, before his expression turned sour, because Copper just started a bar fight with that Runningway mech from before and three others. “Looks like my friend needs me… I’m sorry, Con, but if I don’t get him, he might as well be ready for the scrapyard.”

“Because they would beat him to a pulp?” Asked Law Construct with a chuckle. To which Galen only shook his head in return.

“No, because I would. Fragger ruined my evening, but also made it kind of better.” He said, before carefully taking Law Consstruct’s servo in his own and leaning down to place a quick kiss onto it, before sending the other mech his comm number with a wink. To which he quickly got Law Construct’s return. “I’ll see you next time…” And with that said, Galen turned around, marched over to Copper, chased off Runningway and his friends with his “crazy doctor act”, before grabbing his friend and dragging him out of the club.

All the while thinking about the mech he just met, and the creators he left behind.

—

Somewhere on the Lost Light an old doctor and his conjux were just enjoying their time together. Watching one of the movies, Swerve was showing in his bar and talking quietly with the present crew members, as Blaster walked into the room. Telling the medic that there was someone called ‘Galen’ trying to contact him, and the doctor moved quickly. Getting up from his seat, before following Blaster out of the bar. Closely followed by his conjux.

Keeping a neutral expression during their walk, although, as soon as he got to the communications console, his optics widened at the sight of the clearly wasted mech on the other end. Who, by the looks of it and the sound of his voice, was a mess. A very sad and teary mess, but the doctor didn’t care. This was, after all, the first time he saw his creation after he ran away. And despite the clear changes, the doctor knew this was his little spark.

“H-hey…” Muttered the younger mech, before letting out a chuckle. “Primus, I should have thought about this better. Called you… when I wasn’t drunk… not that I would have had the courage for it if I was sober… Maybe I should hang up…”

“Don’t… We haven’t talked in a while.” Said the medic, which prompted his sparkling to continue talking. And talking, he did. The mech told his carrier about the things he was too scared to talk about when sober. Starting with how he’s been, how he found a brother, a family, a crush, before ending with the reason why he ran away.

And the doctor listened to everything. Giving the mech as much comfort as he could over the console, before they had to end their call.

[yansurnummu]

The Desert is a Memory of the Ocean (AO3)

Collab with @tilliphont!

A followup to A Variation of the Truth

In the aftermath of the battles in Coldharbour, Galen and Coralantar find themselves back on Nirn. Stuck together, they must find their way home and pick up the pieces.

Rating: M

Words: 1,597

Chapters: 1/?

Relationships: OC/ OC

____________________

The light was bright enough to blind, to burn. Galen raised an arm over his eyes, dread in the pit of his stomach, as Auredil became a beacon of divine power before them.

The realm began to shatter. Galen turned as he heard Coralantar scream, a flash of lightning out of the corner of his eye. He shouted, leaving the barrier and rushing into the darkness beyond, grasping at the Maormer’s form as he stumbled and fell – and that was all he could remember.

_________________

Galen wakes with a start, shooting up from where he lies. Hazily, he sees shades of orange around him, feeling dust and sand under his hands as he sits up. 

He’s certainly not in Coldharbour anymore. He glances around, puzzling over the desert landscape and tall cliffs surrounding him —

“Coralantar!” he gasps as his eyes focus on the pile of black and silver lying in the sand some feet away. Weakly, he scrambles over to him, pulling at the armour on his shoulders to turn him onto his back. His hands shake as he presses his fingers against their pulse under their jaw, sighing in relief as he feels that there’s still something there.

As his panic subsides, he realizes then how hot it is, peeling away the heavy coat he had worn into the frigid plane of Coldharbour. He whispers a quick apology as he pulls open the clasps of Coralantar’s armoured jacket as well, hoping the Maormer will understand his intentions later.

He then presses his palm to Coralantar’s chest, extending his mind. They’re alive, but there’s pain, he can feel. His brow furrows as he realizes that there is damage his magic cannot heal, but he can keep him alive. His eyes close, and blue light flashes, the chest under his palm rising as Coralantar gasps.

Tired, but successful, he smiles, sitting back on his heels when Coralantar’s eyes open. They wince and groan, squinting at the bright sun above, before their gaze falls to Galen. 

“I’d say good morning, but—” Galen gestures at the dry canyon around them, wiping sand and sweat from his brow. The Maormer grunts wearily in reply. He looks them over for any other injuries, frowning at the sight of the singe marks on his gloves. Coralantar doesn’t fight him as he unbuckles the bracers he’s wearing, but he does hiss in pain as Galen carefully peels the fabric away from their skin. 

Galen pauses as he inspects the Maormer’s hands and wrists. The electrical burns on his skin are bad enough, but he can see that they go much deeper than the surface. He presses his fingers into each of the joints in his hands, finding varying levels of nerve response.

“How bad is it, doc?” Coralantar asks weakly, his voice rough and dry.

“It’s…” Galen swallows, doing his best to put on his business persona, like Coralantar is just another patient. “This is a little beyond my expertise, however, I can… give you something for the pain.”

“Don’t give me that,” silvery eyes bare into him, seeing through the mask. 

Galen sighs.

“It’s not good,” he admits. “There’s nerve damage that I don’t think I can fix, at least not here, right now. Healing the surface might make it worse; it’ll be harder to repair the internal damage later. However, that might be our only option right now, as I have no idea where we are.”

“Just do it, then.” Coralantar says, sitting up with some effort. His face is hard as he holds out his hands for Galen to take. “I refuse to be a liability.”

Galen hesitates, but nods, taking Coralantar’s hands in his. Carefully, he focuses, stitching the wounds back together. 

The two of them hike along cliffs and mesas to get to higher ground. As they walk, Galen quickly begins to recognize the prairie brush and succulent cacti as flora native to Anequina. It's sort of what he suspected, but he's relieved to be certain of it. Anequina, he’s familiar enough with; it's just a matter of finding some sort of landmark.

They're both exhausted, but Coralantar trails a few paces behind him. Galen looks back, and catches the miserable look on their face before the Maormer realizes they’re being watched and the mask slips back into place. They’ve tied their jacket around their waist, the collar of their linen undershirt unlaced and sleeves rolled up to their elbows; it’s a look Galen might find endearing if the situation weren’t so dire. Instead, seeing him like this has Galen on edge; he quite literally looks like a fish out of water, the scales on his face cracked and dry under the relentless afternoon sun. 

He pulls out the small canteen from the pack he managed to hang onto in the chaos, attempting once more to hand it to him.

"Please – if you pass out, I'm not carrying you," he says sternly, but underneath, it's a plea. Coralantar stares at him for a moment, before gingerly reaching out and taking the canteen.

It's not enough for them to survive on for long, and they both know it. He leaves it with Coralantar, continuing onward.

They crest over the top of the hill as the sun begins to sink from the sky, and then, with dread sinking into the pit of his stomach, Galen knows exactly where they are. Coralantar looks at him, a tinge of hope in their eyes as they set their gaze on the walls of a city below, and Galen almost feels bad about crushing them.

"I wouldn't get too excited. That's Orcrest," he steps forward, starting down the opposite side of the hill. "It's been a dead zone since the Knahaten Flu. Whole city got quarantined, and now it’s a nest of harpies and Namira cultists. But, at least now we know where we are." He hears Coralantar sigh, and then footsteps following him.

"What now?" 

"Well, we should probably find shelter. The Stitches isn't too far, but we won't make it before nightfall."

They camp under an outcropping, off the road to Orcrest, where a campfire is less likely to be seen by whatever lurks within the city. 

Galen manages to pick some edible greens and cacti fruit, frowning as he returns to camp to see Coralantar focusing on his hands again. Magic sparks at his fingers, but quickly fizzles out, and he sees his jaw clench in frustration. He looks up as Galen approaches, sighing. Galen drops to sit next to him, taking out a pocket knife to cut the fruit in half.

“Here,” he hands one half to Coralantar. “It’s not great on its own, but it’s better than starving.” The Maormer sniffs it skeptically, before taking a bite.

“Hm,” he makes a sour face, and Galen chuckles.

“The Khajiit typically grill it with cinnamon and sugar, and I promise you it’s quite good.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he begrudgingly continues to eat the fruit.

They sit in silence for a while as they eat, listening to the crackle of the fire. Galen realizes then how exhausted he really is; he had been running on pure adrenaline and survival instinct all day, and now, he supposes, comes the crash. Coralantar, too, looks miserable. 

“What happened back there?” Galen asks gently, his mind retracing backwards now that they’re afforded a moment’s rest. Coralantar shakes their head.

“Which part?”

Galen laughs, the sound bitter and tired. By the Eight, it’s been a fucking long day.

“I don’t know,” Coralantar continues, not waiting for him to answer. They look down at their hands, and there’s a subtle tremor in them. “I suppose I just… pushed too hard. It was bound to happen eventually.”

“What do you mean?” Galen’s brow furrows. Of course, any kind of spellcasting has some risk attached, and Galen is very aware of the risks, both physical and otherwise, of his own craft. But Coralantar’s magic seemed innocuous enough, if frighteningly powerful, from what he had seen.

“Well,” they sigh, their eyes fixed on the ground. “I don’t expect you to understand, but among my people, I’m what you would call a Sea Witch. We’re trained from a young age to be weapons for the Sorcerer-King Orgnum.” His cadence is bitter as he speaks. “Controlling sea and storm? Creating something great and terrible from nothing at all? Well. It’s rare that our bodies last long.”

“What a cold and lonely ruler he must be.” 

“I never met him,” they shrug. “Sea Witches, we’re powerful, but we aren’t people. We’re something to be used and feared. I never had any real station in society, believe it or not.”

“You seem like a person to me. You bloody well bleed like one, anyway.”

Coralantar snorts, and it’s the first time today that Galen’s seen a genuine smile on their face.

“Thanks, Galen,” he meets his gaze. “For… everything. I know I’d still be lying in a canyon, baking in the sun without you.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to just leave you there, was I? I’m not that cruel,” he rolls his eyes, looking away, but he can feel the scrutiny of the Maormer’s gaze still fixed on him.

“No… I suppose you’re not.” Is all Coralantar says before silence stretches between them.

Galen all but flops against him when it's time for them to sleep, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion. Coralantar only sighs wearily, leaning back against him as Galen wraps wiry arms around him, pressing his nose into the Maormer’s shoulder and breathing in the memory of sea air.

[bookwyrminspiration]

I am very proud of myself today. I asked my school’s librarians to check out if they can get the Great Library for it! I want to understand why it is apparently so good.

-⚙️

I'm also proud of you! Talking to people and requesting things can be terrifying and I always end up forgetting something (*cough* me literally this afternoon *cough*), so kudos to you!

I don't know a lot about The Great Library except that it's an alternate world where the Library of Alexandria never burned and my mutuals love it. There's a Wolfe and there's a Santi. And they're gay.

But OUGH can you imagine if the Library never burned? We'd have access to the actual works of Herophilus and Erasistratus! We'd have record of the first systematic human dissections! We'd have the origin! Right now we only know they exist and some of what they did because others have mentioned them in their own works, but we don't have anything actually from them. Because they worked in Alexandria and their work/studies were burned in the library. But they were the first! The origin!

Can you imagine the implications this would have on the history of medicine?? Idk what the worldbuilding is in the tgl, but depending on what it is all the medical discovers and advancements could've been made so much sooner! Because there was like a 1700-ish year gap in studying the body, but maybe it would've have been there in this world! No more "the church abhors blood" and all that.

I'm getting distracted but my point is that I think it's a fascinating premise and I hope you enjoy the series! I'm going to lose my mind over what could've been--and this is just in one very small niche of mine, if the library had survived...unfathomable

[enaelyork]

You're in love with Krennic but Lyra is your best friend.

Can be an amazing fanfiction plot.

[inkedwaters]

don’t  look  at  me  pt  two

*    ⟢    RANSOM  WINTERWOLF     ❮   visage   ❯

*    ⟢    RANSOM  WINTERWOLF     ❮   script   ❯

*    ⟢    RANSOM  WINTERWOLF     ❮   aesthetic   ❯

*    ⟢    RANSOM  WINTERWOLF     ❮   study   ❯

*    ⟢    RANSOM  WINTERWOLF     ❮   desires   ❯

*    ⟢    RANSOM  WINTERWOLF     ❮   headcanons   ❯

*    ⟢    RANSOM  WINTERWOLF     ❮   edits   ❯

*    ⟢    AODHAN     ❮   visage   ❯

*    ⟢    AODHAN     ❮   script   ❯

*    ⟢    AODHAN     ❮   aesthetic   ❯

*    ⟢    AODHAN     ❮   study   ❯

*    ⟢    AODHAN     ❮   desires   ❯

*    ⟢    AODHAN     ❮   headcanons   ❯

*    ⟢    AODHAN     ❮   edits   ❯

*    ⟢    GALEN     ❮   visage   ❯

*    ⟢    GALEN     ❮   script   ❯

*    ⟢    GALEN     ❮   aesthetic   ❯

*    ⟢    GALEN     ❮   study   ❯

*    ⟢    GALEN     ❮   desires   ❯

*    ⟢    GALEN     ❮   headcanons   ❯

*    ⟢    GALEN     ❮   edits   ❯

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Okay, this is really nitpicky, but I have to say it. When the Fëanoreans landed in Middle-earth, Celegorm did not lead an army south and relieve the siege of the Falathrim. I’m seen that referenced or mentions in a lot of meta and fics, but it never happened. And there is no indication that Celegorm even met Círdan or any of his people, or was even aware of them prior to Fingolfin’s forces arriving.

What happened was that Morgoth reacted to the Fëanorean forces’ arrival by pulling his army besieging the Falathrim away and sending it north towards Ard-galen. And then, when it was in the north, far from the Falas, attacking the Fëanoreans, Celegorm defeated that army.

Yes, this is minor, and yes, it’s beneficial to the Falathrim that the arrival of the Fëanoreans made Morgoth decide he needed that army more elsewhere, but there is no direct “showing up and rescuing them” moment, and none of the Fëanoreans are anywhere near the Falas during the Battle-under-Stars, and Celegorm has no more to do with the benefit to the Falathrim than anyone else does (though he gets the Fëanorean forces out of a tight spot) and this just seems to be a weirdly common fanon misconception?

Under the cold stars before the rising of the Moon the host of Fëanor went up the long Firth of Drengist that pierced the Echoing Hills of Ered Lómin, and passed thus from the shores into the great land of Hithlum; and they came at length to the long lake of Mithrim, and upon its northern shore made their encampment in the region that bore the same name. But the host of Morgoth, aroused by the tumult of Lammoth and the light of the burning at Losgar, came through the passes of the Ered Wethrin, the Mountains of Shadow, and assailed Fëanor on a sudden, before his camp was full-wrought or put into defence; and there on the grey fields of Mithrim was fought the Second Battle of the Wars of Beleriand. Dagor-nuin-Giliath it is named, the Battle-under-Stars, for the Moon had not yet risen; and it is renowned in song.

The Noldor, outnumbered and taken at unawares, were yet swiftly victorious; for the light of Aman was not yet dimmed in their eyes, and they were strong and swift, and deadly in anger, and their swords were long and terrible. The Orcs fled before them, and they were driven forth from Mithrim with great slaughter, and hunted over the Mountains of Shadow into the great plain of Ard-galen, that lay northward of Dorthonion. There [in Ard-galen] the armies of Morgoth that had passed south into the Vale of Sirion and beleagured Sirion in the Falas came up to their aid, and were caught in their ruin. For Celegorm, Fëanor’s son, having news of them, waylaid them with a part of the Elven-host, and coming down out of the hills near Eithel Sirion drove them into the Fen of Serech.

If you will indulge my very bad edit of the Beleriand map:

The orcs coming from across Ard-galen from Angband cross the mountains and attack the Fëanoreans up at Mithrim, in the top. The Fëanoreans drive them back over the mountains into Ard-galen. The orcs that were besieging the Falas, brought up as reinforcements for the other orcs, come up all the way into Ard-galen. Celegorm, attacking from Eithel Sirion (which is north of the Fen of Serech), drives them south into the Fen.

At no point are the Fëanoreans - Celegorm or other - anywhere near the Falas. Celegorm's actions have no more impact on the Falas specifically than anyone else's.

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

"The Elvish folk of this realm had migrated from the south, being the kin and neighbours of the Elves of Lórien; but they had dwelt in Greenwood the Great east of Anduin. In the Second Age their king, Oropher [the father of Thranduil, father of Legolas], had withdrawn northward beyond the Gladden Fields." - J.R.R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales, "The History of Galadriel and Celeborn"

@tolkienofcolourweek day 1: land + environment || OROPHER

[ID: an edit comprised of four posters in shades of warm green.

1: Jean Woolmay Denson Pierre, a haitian model with dark skin and partially bleached dreadlocks tied back in a ponytail, exposing the shaved sides of his head. He leans thoughtfully against a tree, looking at the viewer. He has a septum ring and wears no shirt. A pale green rectangle frames the image, and vertical text in the same color reads "oropher" in all caps / 2: A woodland stream framed by vines and overhanging branches. Pale green text in the center framed by a rectangle reads "lord of eryn galen" in all caps / 3: Tall trees in mist. Same format as Image 2, but the text reads "hero of dagorlad" / 4: Jean Woolmay Denson Pierre, this time standing in the woods and looking off the the right. One hand rests on his hip and the other supports his chin. He wears no visible clothing. Same format as Image 1, but the text reads "high beech" //End ID]