Magnus Chase Oneshots!

My Street Mom And Dad Send Me To A Shelter. Yay. -Preview

(Sup! Okay, so I am making a fully fledged fanfic with this called "No Ordinary Person". I don't know how I am going to write these fanfics, the fanfics for that, and write the books I am making.)

Magnus Chase's POV

I didn't want to go to another stupid shelter. I didn't want to sleep in a room full of tens of other homeless kids. But of course, my street mom and dad forced me to, because that what family is for. Don't get me wrong, they aren't my real parents, but I still love them. Platonically of course. Their names are Blitz and Hearth, and they care about me. They get me something new every year for my birthday, even if it isn't that nice. They live on the streets too, but they will never tell me where. It's alright though, at least I am still alive. That's all I really care about anyway, it's all I need to care about. Sometimes Faldan's Falafel will give me some scraps to eat, or just some extra food they have lying around. All other places turn away homeless people but Faldan's, and I am grateful. Sometimes the food from there is the only food I can get for the day, those days, although the falafel is good, I never feel full enough. Those are the days where I completely give up and lay down under the bridge, in the soft grass, and close my eyes, waiting for my life to be over. Other times I go to the Boston Public Libary and read my hunger away until my head is so emerged in the book, I don't realize the Libray is closing for the night. Other times I am tempted to grab peoples food in the food court near Faldan's Falafel, though I know it will cost me jail time.

You have to go to this shelter, as least for a little bit Hearth signs to me.

Oh, did I not mention he is deaf? Well, he is, and if you ever give him crap for it I will hurt you. He taught me to do sign language, just curse words at first, but then he started teaching me real words. It's good because not a lot of people know sign language and whenever I want to curse at them, or at life, I just casually do it with hand gestures. Anyway, Hearth is walking me to a new shelter because he wants me to eat and actually get a good nights rest. I don't tell him I almost never sleep in shelters because they give me a sleeping bag and a pillow, then throw me in a room with ten other discards. I usually sneak away to sleep in some alleyway behind a dumpster or in a park. My stomach growls eagerly as we pass by a small cafe, all the smells coming from it, fresh cookies, coffee, tea, briskets, scones, drive me mad with hunger. Hearth notices this and gives me a reassuring smile as if to say don't worry we'll be there soon and you can have all the food in the world. But it's never like that. They never give you so much food that it would make your stomach ache from being full, no, not at all, they ration it out so they have enough food to feed every single one of us. I saw the sign for the shelter, it was a youth shelter so Hearth couldn't come with me. I didn't know how old he was, but he defiantly was an adult. I can't believe both Blitz and Hearth got me to go here. They know I hate shelters, but they also want me to live. I haven't eaten all day, it's going to start snowing soon, and they don't want me to die from that stuff. No doubt they are going to make me stay there all winter even if I don't mind the cold. They are the reason I am still alive today, I trust them, so I should probably trust their decision to make me stay there. We walk inside and instantly I am hit with warmth. They have their heaters on full blast, tons of them strewn around the room. In the center of the room is a reception area with a secretary furiously typing on a huge computer. She is behind a huge desk that takes up most of the room, it's a circle, with tons and tons of papers and files on it. The secretary looks tired, I wouldn't blame her. Putting up with homeless kids and teens the whole day doesn't sound ideal. Hearth signs me in, does my paperwork and all that, while I look around the room. There are six corridors that connect to this room, and by the looks of it, only one leads to a cafeteria. The rest lead to hundreds of rooms, no doubt, chalk full of kids. I didn't see any social workers around, only kids and teens walking the hallways, talking to each other. Sure, they still looked homeless, but these kids/teens seemed happy. Okay, so they seemed happy, but that doesn't mean I am going to be happy here. I don't think I'll ever be properly happy again because of the reason I am living on the streets in the first place. That reason is my mother, who died via wolf attack in our apartment. I remember it like it was yesterday and constantly have nightmares about it. I don't know how those wolves got there, or why they came after my mother, but they did and I will never be the same. I don't want to think about her right now, I don't want to cry at this new shelter because some kids will think I am a wimp (It's happened before). Soon enough Hearth is done filling out my paperwork and I am taken by a social worker named Alva. She leads me down a hallway and into the room exactly at the end of the hall. She opened the door to reveal an average sized room with two twin sized mattresses on opposite sides. The mattresses had a large bag of them full of what I assumed was necessities like toothpaste and a toothbrush. The mattresses had one quilt and one pillow on each one. On the wall opposite the door was two tiny dressers/bedside tables. It's more than I have ever gotten from a shelter before, but it still didn't feel like this place could ever be a home to me.

"Your roommate will be arriving sometime today, a lot of people arrive at this home right before winter like you did, bathrooms are down the hall to the right, the recreational activities room is down the hall to the left," Alva says to me, "Curfew at nine o'clock, and yes, there is showers and extra clothing in the bathrooms, misbehave and you will be sent to the box room, not a fun place, at all, have fun relaxing! I'll get you when it's time for dinner!"

And with that, she promptly shut the door on my face. I turned and looked at my room that would soon be our room. I hated roommates, even if it was only one this time. I flopped down on one of the beds and my stomach complained. I looked in the bag that was on the bed and found not only necessities like a toothbrush and toothpaste, but food too! It wasn't falafel, unfortunately, but healthy food. Two apples, an orange, and two slices of bread. Wow. So yummy. They weren't that bad, but I would prefer falafel to oranges any day of the week. As I finished up my food the door opened. A person with a face and posture that suggests you shouldn't talk to them, but who is also naturally beautiful. They brought all her stuff in two huge duffel bags and doesn't bother saying hello. Somehow I know that they are no one to be messed with. Do you want to know why I keep using gender-neutral pronouns? Because I can't figure out what gender my new roommate is. I shouldn't ask though, they could probably rip me apart with one glare. They are beautiful in a way that seems feminine and masculine at the same time. Could this person be LGBT+ like so many people I have seen at shelters? Or could they just be a guy or just a girl, or nonbinary? I don't know. I take a deep breath, this is going to be one long winter.

(Hey guys, it's the author, do you think this started off boring? If so please tell me so I can improve!)