𝓓𝓻𝓲𝓯𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓐𝔀𝓪𝔂 || 𝓐 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽-⁠☆

🌏 Far Too Late 🗑️

-Earth angst,
-Requested by: @xXx_Existed_xXx

(The song above, is supposed to represent how humans plan to leave Earth, polluting it in the process).

*ﾟ⁠+｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+｡⁠*ﾟ+

"Hey, hey! Calm down!-" Moon tried to help Earth by holding a bucket in front of him, though, the more Earth puked oil into it; the heavier it got, until he felt his arms tremble in exhaustion.

Earth was far from okay. Lately, his humans have really took a toll on him.

Environmental impacts like wild fires, pollution, climate change, acid deposition, and deforestation are slowly killing him. Mentally and physically, though, these aren't even close to all the impacts his earthlings have on him.

Yet, Earth denies this all; claiming that they can 'change', when in reality, the only thing changing was himself changing for the worse.

Moon rubs circles on Earths back, whispering sweet words of comfort.

Since Moon was significantly smaller than Earth, it was quite the challenge to even hold a bucket that's practically his size, and comfort Earth at the same time. He huffed in frustration.

Earth trembled as he puked oil, this has been going on for quite some time now. Usually, it's once every two weeks, but this time, he puked thrice this week.

Moon would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about Earths condition.

Millions of questions swirled in his mind; not a single thought racing in his head wasn't about the concern of Earths health, or Earth in general.

Earth managed to cough out the last of it, groaning and sliding down the wall, he placed his shaking hands on his arms, quietly hugging himself and closing his eyes as oil slowly drips down his chin, and onto the cold floor.

His hoodie was stained with oil, covering up the once bright blue word, 'NASA', on the cloth.

Earth knew damn well how hard it was to wash the stains off, he wasn't even going to attempt to clean the oil stains.

He inhaled, breathing in the wisty cold air of space, trying his best to relax his muscles.

After a few breathing exercises, he somehow managed to calm down his nerves, just by a smudge.

"..Moon, I-" he shut his eyes and exhaled "-I'm sorry to bother you with this, I really am..-"

Moon cut him off by shaking his head, he let go of the bucket without a care; spilling the oil on the floor, far away from the two.

He sighed in relief as the weight from the bucket vanished.

Moon sat down next to Earth, rubbing his sore muscles from holding the heavy bucket for such a long period of time, before speaking. "This isn't even your fault, it's those damn humans!" He spoke through gritted teeth, he was fed up by those pesky lifeforms living on Earths surface and treating him like absolute garbage.

Earth looked down, "..They can chan-" yet, Moon cut him off once again.

"Yeah... Sorry to burst your bubble, but nobody believes that."

Earth huffed, sighing.

In all honesty, Earth felt terrible. He's never felt this weak, nor sick.

To when humans first walked on land, to wars and pandemics, to riots and space exploration, nothing can compare to the amount of pain he's dealing with momentarily.

He felt cold sweat trickle down his forehead as his headache worsened by the second.

He shut his eyes tightly and buried his nails in the palm of his hand, tinting it a pale, gruesome white.