Here’s the only Way I’ll accept Han Solo’s original Name is not Han Solo:
It turns out “Han Solo” was a Jedi Padawan [after all Han was still a kid when the kids were born] and he freakishly escaped Anakin’s wrath during Order 66, which could explain why Han hates the force. [Cause Darth Vader had to fuck up his childhood killing his best friends and family]
That way in either Episode 8 or 9 we see Harrison Ford going all grumpy grandpa mode to teach his ungrateful kid a lesson and chasing Adam Driver with a lightsaber in his hands, around the Finalizer screaming “KARMAS COMING TO GET YOU KID!”
ok but what if belle hadn’t confessed her love for adam in time and didn’t manage to break the curse ?? like she’d somehow nurse him back into health but all of his servants have been turned into inanimate objects, the palace is quieter than ever, they’re all alone but belle loves him and stays up there with the beast. and the first few weeks are kind of bittersweet but slowly he loses his ability to form sentences ? each day that passes he becomes more and more feral ?? he rips through his clothes, starts walking on all fours, claws at the walls of his room, hunts the animals who happen to enter into his gardens … and one day while belle is trying to feed him some soup, the beast actually snaps his teeth at her ??? and when belle looks into his eyes she can’t see him. she can’t see adam. she tries to speak to him but it’s no use. he’s gone.
She’s learned to not sit on the edge of the mattress but to balance three steps away, left foot, right foot, two boots, and then her hair, pulled back and tied up, with no benefit of a mirror. The bathroom light always slices on, lays itself over the rumple of the bed.
Sometimes, a hand pats at the mattress anyway.
When she opens the door to the corridor, he’ll wake. Once, she looked back, turned over her shoulder and caught him rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye, squinting.
I hate that feeling when I’m having a semi normal night, muddling through and managing when suddenly my brain ambushes me, cornering me and screaming “YOU DONT FIT IN ANYWHERE YOURE WEIRD AND GROSS AND EVERYONE THINKS YOURE ANNOYING. YOURE GONNA DIE ALONE AND MISERABLE” like okay… I’m crying in a bathroom stall at work right now because I hate myself so much that’s cool that’s fine that’s normal