𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕔𝕪𝕠𝕟 ; 𝕔𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕧 𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤

pray i'm doing time with star-shaped scars.

ahah,,,, smile.

i swear my next update for these oneshots will be fluff. i swear-

anyways, for anyone that hasn't read the book "they both die at the end" by adam silvera, i highly recommend it. this oneshot is based off of it :)

fic title from ;; branded - nathan sharp.

cw/tw ;; various mentions of death, brief mentions of car accidents, nightmares, bullying, and somewhat graphic depiction of death.

pairing ;; cscoop/traves

prompt ;; travis gets the phone call on the night of his eighteenth birthday.

final word count ;; 7.54k

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it's exactly thirteen minutes after midnight on travis's eighteenth birthday when he receives the alert. the familiar death-cast caller id rings out across his phone, the same stupid ringtone he hears on the news blaring from his speakers, that he's heard in person only once, and he sighs shakily, answering the phone.

"travis? travis.. king, is it?" the herald asks, and he nods, before realising they can't see him.

"yessir." at least they got his name right. no doubt about it, travis will die before the day's end. he can't bring himself to feel sad - he's known this day would come since he turned ten, when his mother got the same call and died twelve hours later - but he's disappointed. the very day he becomes a legal adult is the day he dies.

what a shame.

"hello, travis, i'm calling from death-cast. i'm noah." the herald's voice rings out, deep and rough, like he's tired, sick and tired of making these calls. like he doesn't want to be making these calls, like he knows that travis and anyone else he needs to call doesn't want to hear false sympathy. "i regret to inform you that sometime in the next twenty-four hours, you'll be meeting an untimely death. you're so fucking young and i hate having to make these calls to people, to anyone, it fucking sucks ass," noah says, obviously off script, "you've got so much to live for and yet your life is cut short by this shitty universe and a company designed to bring nothing except for pain and misery to people all around the world." travis is stunned, but he doesn't say anything, simply sits there. noah clears his throat, obviously embarrassed about the tangent he'd went on, "sorry about that. un- unfortunately, there's nothing we can do to suspend your death, but there are things you can do before you die."

"like what?" travis asks, thinking of his friends, of his older brother and his father and the fanbase he's going to be leaving behind on this dreary day of october twenty-seventh. thinking of how they'll miss him, of how they'll be angry and upset that he couldn't live his life to the fullest, of how they'll cry when they receive the news at the end of the day.

"well, there's the make-a-moment station, - complete bullshit, if you ask me - you could sign up for the last friends app and find someone, anyone, to keep you company, but first, i need you to log onto the death-cast.com website and fill out any special requests you may have for your funeral, in addition to the inscription you'd like engraved on your headstone."

"alright." his voice is empty. noah makes a broken noise, covered by the crackling of his mic and background noise, he can tell travis has somewhat given up, that the news has completely settled in and he's just accepted it.