Work Text:
Pluto was a planet.
From the moment he woke up to the two giant dark blue eyes staring widely at him, filled with so much love for the little guy even though he had just barely awoken from his slumber. The grin that had greeted him in the darkness of what he later found out was the Kuiper Belt, wrapping his big arms around the little planet and gently pulling him into the his soft embrace—and safe was all that he could sense. That in these stranger’s arms, that he literally just met and should probably be more scared of, he was safe.
A name—his name—had quickly slid into his mind while he floated in the ice giant’s arms, clicking into place like second nature.
Pluto.
He was Pluto. The furthest planet from the Sun. And he was a planet. Like Neptune (who’d he’d learned the name of after asking later). Even though their sizes differed and he felt so tiny compared to him, the tug in his core connecting him to orbiting around the giant ball of gravity in the center of their solar system proved that he was a planet.
He didn’t even have to explain that to Neptune. He seemed to just know and was very happy that Pluto learned his own name and his place in the solar system so naturally.
And then, held in Neptune’s arms he felt a second source of gravity tugging on him from Neptune’s other hand.
Charon.
They woke up at roughly the same time and she seemed to sleep more than him, but from the very first moment that she opened her brilliant purple eyes, her gaze went directly to Pluto—not the giant planet holding them close, not the ball of fire and gravity in the center of the solar system—Pluto, and everything stalled as they shared that first moment together. Pluto was immediately enthralled with her dark eyes, and how they sparkled even in the dim lighting of their surroundings.
And then she smiled.
And Pluto wanted nothing more than to be with her forever.
Which they did! Charon actually tackled him after they’d met that first time and held him close to her—despite her arms just barely reaching around Pluto’s body—and Pluto clung to her in return. They stayed close, moving through life one step at a time, always being there for back up and support and never separating from one another. Meeting the other planets and the scary and oh-so-overwhelming Star at the center of the solar system and almost breaking down in front of everyone because of the all encompassing heat that made it so hard to function properly and meeting the many giant and new and scary celestials surrounding them—they did that together.
It wasn’t very fun but they did it together.
They shared their life, their orbit, and their love for one another.
And their first kiss.
Pluto would never forget that day. He held that memory—along with basically all the rest of memories of him and Charon—close to his heart and got so overwhelmingly happy (in a good overwhelmed way) whenever he thought of it. And then when he would look over at her and Charon would smile at him—the same lopsided smile that greeted him when he first woke up—he would fall in love all over again.
He was a planet. And Charon was his moon. But that didn’t matter because they loved each other.
Or—he thought it didn’t matter. He thought that being a planet wasn’t that big of a deal when his entire life revolved around Charon and their love.
Until… it happened.
And everything changed.
Pluto sat as still as possible, breaths short and sweet as to not disturb his position he so desperately tried to stay in, Charon working across from him, her brows adorably furrowed in concentration and her tongue sticking out to the side. She glanced from Pluto and then back to the canvas she’d gotten from Uranus, confident strokes streaking across the sure-to-be-masterpiece.
She’d recently taken up painting, and while it wasn’t Pluto’s thing (he got way too frustrated while trying to draw—everything he drew looked so horrible— but Charon always calmed him down with a gentle kiss and said that he just needed to take his time and he could create something wonderful and amazing and all he needed to do to do so, was to calm down. He appreciated her help, but he hated how failing at it made him feel while Charon could draw so breathtakingly and with such ease.), Pluto was happy to be her muse.
Every stroke showed her love for him, and Pluto could stay still for days if needed—all he wanted was to be able to gaze upon Charon as she worked.
He cherished every movement, every time her eyes lit up with an idea and her smile beamed, lighting up their surroundings as if they were in Mercury’s orbit. The excited anticipation in her movements, how they were almost faster and more jittery yet still so precise, could tell Pluto all that he needed to know about how the painting was going.
And then when she finished, and she stepped back to look at the painting, a proud yet tired grin spread wide, Pluto’s heart flipped flopped and filled with butterflies.
Every. Single. Time.
Charon’s beautiful voice rang out, music to his ears, “Hey, Pluto—you’re supposed to look angry. As much as I love seeing you blush, I need anger for this painting.”
Ack—whoops!
His face blushed furiously even more despite what Charon literally just said, and he almost moved to cover his face but then remembered that he had to stay still for the painting to work, and had to stay there and watch as Charon’s eyes grew softer and her lovely laugh filled the atmosphere between them. He was definitely as red as one of Earth’s tomatoes, and Charon was quickly starting to match.
Charon giggled as her own face lit up pink, and Pluto’s heart leaped and he wanted nothing more than to pull her against his body and kiss her until they—
“SOLAR SYSTEM MEETING!!! NOW!!!”
Pluto’s gaze snapped towards the inner solar system as Sun’s overwhelmingly powerful voice jolted him out of his thoughts. The temperature in their ever-cold orbits increased—and even if was just by little it was still noticeable. Any change out here was always super apparent.
Pluto blinked as he stared towards the Sun, vaguely seeing small (small from his perspective all the way out here—the gas giants were called giants for a reason) forms moving around.
…what did Sun want now?
As much as he loved the Sun for keeping everyone safe and protected with his gravity and whatnot, the times he’d ended up interacting with him had been in…less than ideal circumstances.
“Hey,” Charon’s voice came up besides him, her hand—drying paint still sticking to it—brushing against his own, “We should go. Don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Pluto squeezed Charon’s hand, glancing down to her gentle form staring up at him with so much adoration Pluto flushed bright red again, leaning down to steal a kiss now that they were close enough to. He could feel Charon’s grin against his own lips, pulling away only because the Sun’s booming voice punched through space again, the two of them wincing in sync.
“Yeah, I guess we should huh?” Pluto mumbled, still caught up in emotions after the kiss they’d just shared, “Can I see the painting—”
“Ah ah ah!” Charon waggled her finger in front of his eyes, eyes glinting mischievously, “It’s not done yet so no peaking!” He pouted, his exaggerated disappointment earning himself a laugh out of Charon, and then he giggled as she tapped him on the nose playfully. They took another moment staring at each other, and then Charon pivoted on her heel and Pluto let her pull him along as they weaved through the asteroids surrounding them.
They were more dancing than walking, twirling around each other out of habit, using the old trick they came up with to avoid the asteroids while still having fun. Pluto grasped Charon’s arm, pulling them back together with soft laughs as the two of them broke out of the Kuiper Belt, free to roam in open space. They picked up speed, running strides matching with one another to go the giant distance between them and get to the inner solar system. Sure, the trip to the Sun would be long, but Pluto had Charon. His other half. The love of his life.
So he didn’t care about how long it took—as long as he could do it side by side with Charon.
Pluto was sweating bullets by the time they passed through the Asteroid Belt, his jacket and multiple layers of sweatshirts tied around his waist. He and Charon, along with the ice giants, were all super sensitive to being around the Sun, and today was no different. They’d pulled out the cold compression suit-jacket-things that Neptune had gifted them a long time ago (Pluto didn’t know where he was anymore, he hoped the ice giant was doing okay), and had stopped when they had passed through Saturn’s orbit to help each other to put it on.
Overheating mixed with the overstimulation of being so close to the Sun was not a fun combo—as Pluto and Charon had both learned the hard way.
But now they’d finally arrived, and with the special jackets keeping them cool (even if he was still so hot), they could function properly and listen to whatever thing the Sun wanted to discuss.
Speaking of which, their star seemed a little more subdued than usual.
And the rest of the planets did as well.
Everyone’s eyes were on him and Charon as they floated closer and closer to the group, the normal chit-chattering that usually spread across the area while everyone waited was nonexistent. Pluto wasn’t the best at reading the room, but the heavy atmosphere that hung over everyone proved that something had happened. That, paired with the fact that no one seemed to want to look him in the eye (except for Earth and Venus, who never paid much attention to him in general, which made it even more weird), ignited the anxiety rolling through his core.
Pluto squeezed Charon’s hand, his love squeezing back in response.
He took a deep breath, putting on a smile that hopefully wasn’t as forced as it felt and tried to keep his voice from wavering, “Hey y’all! What’s up for today’s meeting?”
Standing high above Pluto’s head, Jupiter, the leader of the planets and so giant, (especially standing next to Saturn who was also ginormous) sighed. And it wasn’t a good type of sigh either—Pluto could pick up the exhaustion and the regret that his voice was tinged with, which only served to spike his anxiety, “Pluto, there’s been a…development in the ranking of the solar system.”
Pluto forced himself to breathe so he wouldn’t panic, Charon scooting a little bit closer to him for support, “Oh. And that is?”
“The Earthlings made up a new rule.” Pluto swung his gaze to the Sun, wincing from the brightness radiating from the star. He blinked against the light, and was quite surprised to see the Sun’s face not in the usual crazed expression. Rather, pity and regret and maybe some grief (what? Why would the Sun be grieving? Did someone get hurt?) filled his eyes. Even the heat crackling around his form seemed to understand what was going on, the cracks and pops quieter than normal.
Pluto bit the inside of his lip, pushing down the panic that threatened to blind him. Could they just tell him what’s going on already? Enough tip-toeing around the subject, either they tell him or they don’t—and can they stop staring at him like that. He’s not a baby anymore. Why are they looking at him like he’s about to break?
Okay. Alright. Deep breaths Pluto. In and out, just like Char’ taught you. Don’t panic. Use logic to overcome your emotions.
Pluto glanced to the Earth, quickly glancing away when Earth shot him a creepy grin back, “Earth’s life? What do they have to do with how the rest of the solar system functions?”
Jupiter adjusted his tiny pair of glasses (Charon always thought it was funny how such a big planet had such tiny glasses), his deep voice still strained, “A lot actually—”
“Ugh. Enough of this!” Pluto snapped his attention back to the other Rockies, wincing as Venus stalked out from the group. His fiery eyes gleamed, a look in them that Pluto really didn’t like. Venus grinned, sharp teeth glinting in the sun light, “You’re not a planet anymore!”
“What?!” The shout came out before Pluto could stop himself, panic clawing its way through his mind. There’s no way. No way. No, no, no. He was a planet. Since the day he was born. He stumbled back, yanking his hand away from Charon’s, running a hand through his hair, “That’s not true. It can’t—you can’t. What?”
Pluto whipped around, trying to catch Jupiter’s eye, a strained laugh bursting out of his chest with the desperate thought that this was all just a joke pushing through, “Haha y’all. Super funny. Is this one of those ‘April Fools’ things that Earth pulls? Well you got me! Hahaha!”
Earth’s voice drew his attention, Pluto spinning back around as the planet with Life came forward. No. Please no. That grin. That smug grin—please let this not be real. A joke—a cruel joke but a joke nonetheless! Please.
Earth gestured to himself, slowly, drawing out the motion all while that sick grin spread wide, “It’s not a joke. The humans made new rules for what a planet is—and you’re not one of us anymore!”
“Well they’re wrong!” Charon? What— “They don’t know what they’re talking about!” He felt her hand wrap back around his, coming back to his side. Standing up for him. Against all the planets. Against the Sun.
Pluto lifted his head, squeezing Charon’s hand as hard as he could so he could think. He could still salvage this. He could still get them to see him as a planet. He could still argue more. This wasn’t over until he gave up. He lifted his head higher, ignoring the very loud urge to cry, “Yeah! They’ve gotten things wrong before! The—the…um—” Dammnit Pluto think! What did the humans get wrong? Think. Now is not the time to be dumb. Oh—“When they said Earth was the center of the universe!” Yes! Perfect example! “They made a mistake and got that horribly wrong—who’s to say that demoting me was just a simple mistake! And I’m still a planet and we can forget this silly little thing ever happened.” Please. Please, please, please.
Saturn’s soft voice spoke up, “Pluto—”
“You’re wrong~” Earth’s singsong voice cut through whatever Saturn was going to say, the utter glee laced through it pulling the panic back up to the surface. It’s like this is a game for him, not Pluto’s entire life and existence being ripped out from underneath him.
“W—what?” Pluto stared at Earth, unable to look away from the cocky planet, panic dripping from his voice, watching the horrifying sparkle in the other’s eyes.
“You’re wrong.” Earth said again, stalking closer to Pluto, the little planet frozen in place, “Yeah, my humans made a mistake. But they fixed it. Learned from it. Learned that they were wrong, and found out the truth.” No. No. Please don’t say it—“Just like how they made a mistake calling you a planet. They found the truth, and have demoted you to a dwarf planet!”
“You’re lying!” Pluto screamed, panic blinding him as he shoved past Earth. He needed someone. He needed someone who would listen. He’s a planet. He’s a planet. He’s a planet. Neptune! Neptune knows he’s a planet. Neptune would knock some sense into them. Neptune would—where was Neptune?
Pluto whipped around, frantically scanning the surrounding planets. Rockies. Gassies. Uranus and Neptune. Uranus and Neptune. Uranus and Neptune.
But only Uranus stood in front of him, eyes very obviously pointed away from the little planet.
Oh.
Oh.
Right. Yeah. That’s right. Neptune was gone. Nobody knew where he was. He never showed up to these meetings anymore. Because he was missing. Nobody wanted to look for him either. Sun said that he was—wait Sun.
“SUN!” Pluto pleaded, sprinting back to the star in the center of their solar system, “Sun tell that that’s all a misunderstanding. Tell Earth that he’s wrong. I’m still a planet. You can’t demote me please.” He dropped to his knees, desperately bowing in front of their ruler. He didn’t care that he was begging at this point. He needed to beg. He needed to show them that he was still a planet. That this is insane. They can’t demote him—they just can’t!
“I—” Pluto lifted his heavy head, wild eyes staring straight at the Sun’s drawn expression. No. No, please. The Sun was his last chance. His last hope. The Sun was the ruler. He had the last say. He controlled all of them—he was their Star. He would understand. He had to understand.
Sun sighed, the temperature around them dropping—no. It—he—please. "Please, Sun,” Pluto croaked, voice turning raw from his desperate pleading, “Please.” He didn’t even care that he was sobbing at this point—he was a planet. Sun knew that. Sun wouldn’t demote him. It was wrong and cruel and Sun loved his planets like they were his children.
He wouldn’t do this.
He wouldn’t do this.
“So Sun? What will it be?” Earth’s jeering voice spoke up from behind him, and the confidence in it broke Pluto. Sobs ripped through his shaking body, breaths ragged and forced and hurting. Why? Why did Earth want this so much? Why did Earth want to hurt him so much? Pluto did nothing to him! He was nice!
Sun’s shaky sigh blew out from above him, and Pluto didn’t need to lift his head to know what the star looked like. Please. Give him a second chance. This is wrong. Pluto clenched his fists, dipping his head further down, deepening the bow. His raspy voice cracked as he tried to speak, breaths catching on the sobs, “P—please my ru—ruler. Don’t—don’t do this. Please.”
“Pluto.” No. No that tone. Too sad. Too kind. Too pitiful. He’s a planet. He’s a planet. Since the very beginning. It was the first thing he knew—even before learning his name. He was planet. Please.
The Sun’s light around them dimmed, and Pluto knew the words that would come out of his mouth before he even said them.
“I’m sorry Pluto. I cannot argue with the facts presented to me by Earth. You…you have been demoted to a dwarf planet.”
And Pluto screamed.
Pure, unbridled, and raw.
No. No! NO!!! He was a planet. A planet! Sun was wrong. Everyone was wrong. He’s not a dwarf planet! Desperation clawed his way through his heart, ripping it to pieces. He—no! He couldn’t—it—please. Please.
He stumbled to his feet, barely getting his legs to move—but he knew he had to move. Had to do something. He was moving on autopilot, the panic and tears and everything clouded his mind, but he could see him. He could see that smug grin and the watery-blue surface and—
—he winked.
And Pluto roared, rage overtaking his panic.
He could see him. He could almost feel the ripples in his gravity. He was so close.
But a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders.
And he was thrown to the ground.
His vision swam. He couldn’t think. He was a planet. A planet. Not a dwarf planet. It—who was standing above him?
“Get lost Pluto,” Venus spat, voice filled with malice that left Pluto reeling, “This is a planet meeting. And you’re not a planet anymore.”
No.
Please.
But he couldn’t talk. Couldn’t make them understand. Couldn’t argue against the Sun’s will. Sobs ripped him apart, punching through logic and feeling and he couldn’t stop. His raw voice cracked and splintered, guttural screams clawing their way out.
A pair of soft hands cupped his cheeks, their voice muffled over his wails. Please!!! No!!! He was a planet! Why was he being punished? Why! Why! WHY!!!! He didn’t deserve this. He was a planet. Not a dwarf planet. PLEASE. Someone—anyone object. Neptune would’ve. But he’s not here. He’s gone. Forgotten. Erased.
Just like Pluto’s designation as a planet.
Gone.
Forgotten.
Erased.
He was a joke.
...
At some point Charon had managed to get him walking.
He didn’t remember that.
He didn’t remember the trip back home. He didn’t remember Mercury trying to stop them before they left the inner solar system and Charon snapped, cussing him out while working through her own tears. He didn’t remember Charon basically dragging him back, desperately trying to get through to him. To talk to him. To calm him down.
All he remembered was the pain and anguish rolling through his core. Never ending. Ruthless. Tearing him apart from the inside piece by piece. Until there was nothing left to destroy. And he was a hallow husk of himself.
Tears dried up yet the feeling still remained.
He was away from the Sun—away from everyone—yet the feeling still remained.
He was in his orbit…as a dwarf planet, yet the feeling still remained.
And all he could do, was sit and stare into the abyss, wishing that it would swallow him whole and take away the pain.
He was a dwarf planet.
And he hated it.