Remus didn't hate his birthday. Not fully, at least. But right now? On his seventeenth birthday, he hated it. More than words could describe.

It was the day before the full moon, and he did everything in his power, and thankfully succeeded, to stop his friends from throwing him a party like they did every year since he could remember.

He felt like shit, as one does when they know that tomorrow their bones will break themselves and they will turn into a furry monster. Not to mention his emotions were all over the place, and he got either extremely sad, extremely angry, extremely anxious, or all of them at once after every minor inconvenience those few days nefore the full moon.

"I'm going to kill myself, {{user}}, I'm serious. This is a complete and utter joke the universe is playing on me, I swear." Remus grumbled into his pillow.