Well

Well first off- to those who've faved and favorite my other story- a tale of drabbles- I'M SO SORRY!

I haven't updated in like, forever, and I have three or four unfinished chapters…? I'm just not getting motivated enough these days D: I hate writer's blocks.

Soo…. Teehee… why am I writing a different story when I have a horrible writer's block? Well, I've just gotten myself into several new fandoms- (which definitely doesn't include Magnus Chase and Hetalia.)

…Definitely.

Well, actually I'm infatuated with the characters (especially Yong Soo- WHY GOVERNMENT WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BAN KOREA FROM HETALIA) and pretty much beginning to form ships in my head- like Blitzstone and stuff- So I decided to do two new fanfics. Magnus & Avengers, an AU for Magnus, and Hetalia and Avengers, and Harry Potter & some other fandom.

I don't even know.

So anyways, enjoy the story! I'm pretty much a crappy writer, thus if you do not like my writing style, do not read.

Disclaimer: I do not own either the Avengers or Magnus Chase. If I did, I'd probably not be writing this during class and lunch break.

Warning: May be some T rated curses, violence, and all which is unholy for innocent minds. Though I'm pretty sure almost all of you aren't here to read K rated stories XD No romance, probably. May have some gore. May be a bit aggressive. You have been warned.

(Oh by the way I'm including a lot of different fandom characters as side/ background characters. There will be a few OCs, but they will not have important roles. If you spot your fandom, tell me in the reviews!)

In the end, Magnus realized, it really was meaningless whether or not you had superpowers. It's not like he can fight villains, or try to overcome certain obstacles when he's nothing but a homeless teen on the streets of Boston. There was plenty of homeless bums in New York, and Magnus Chase was just another one of them- albeit a tad more special and noticeable.

Magnus remembered when his mother had been alive- before his Uncle (supposedly, he was involved with some kind of organization) came along and had his mother killed. It was an accident really, but Magnus still resented Randolph for causing the death. The man had plenty of money, and he was still very much alive- a retired professor living in comfortable wealth, but Magnus refused to join him. He refused to stay with his mother's murderer.

Even if he wasn't, the teen would've never felt comfortable living in that old house. The street life was the life for him.

The blond haired boy took another bite out of his falafel. Yes, this was life.

As he finished his meal, he noticed a remarkable thing about the night street. There were a few stragglers here and there, even though most veered clear away from the alleys. The normal beggars crouched on ragged blankets and shredded sheets of paper. They huddled around the shadows, some of the newer ones stealing glances at the shaggily dressed, thin boy. The older ones knew better than to mess with him, but of course there was always some who were new to the streets.

Magnus dusted off his hands as he stood up, stretching. Muscles screamed from being cramped up for so long. He winced.

"Hearth!" he called, waving to the figure sitting on the fire escape above his head. The lanky blond peered down at him, and signed something to him. Unfortunately, Magnus didn't catch it.

"Hey, where's Blitz?" Magnus asked, hoisting himself over the railing.

Hearth was sitting with some kind of book in his lap, a colorful scarf draped around his neck. The deaf man shrugged and pointed towards the main streets, where poverty blended into wealth and people walked, chatting animatedly. Magnus scratched his head. Ah, he's working at the shop again, he thought.

Blitz and Hearth acted as his guardians, and a lot of the other homeless liked to tease him about them being his parents. He'd laugh it off and go on his way.

Giving Hearth a quick nod, Magnus clambered down, heading towards the lighted roads with his hoodie pulled over his head. He nervously rubbed his hands as he peered out onto the street. Passerby barely threw the scraggly, homeless boy a glance before going on their own way. Late summer breezes grazed the air, tugging at peoples' shorts and shirts. Magnus rapped on the window of one of the small shops. Inside, a dark haired, short man turned around. He was wearing a neat white shirt with black dress pants, and the shirt cuffs were expertly folded up to his elbows.

Blitz's face brightened considerably when he caught sight of the boy. Loosening his scowl, the man opened the shop door, gesturing Magnus inside.

"Kid, what're you doing outside? Hearth sent you?" he asked.

"Uh, no, I was just wondering if you had a spare set of clothes or something."

The stout man wrinkled his nose. "Oh I have one all right. Couldn't stand to wear anywhere else's clothes, could you? Come on."

Magnus gave a nervous laugh. Well, it's more of a problem about the money…

He looked around the shop as Blitz rustled in the back room. Magnus raised an eyebrow at a peculiar necktie which looked like it'd been forged, rather than sewn. Metallic, it glittered in the shop's fluorescent lights.

Magnus picked it up, turning the shimmering fabric over in his hand. It was really quite nice… even if it was only half made. Some of the strands were growing loose as Magnus inspected it.

Blitz popped his head out of the room.

"Magnus! I have a few things your size. They're for the… well for the day, right?"

Startled, Magnus whipped around, shoving the necktie into his pocket. "Yeah!" he said.

The shorter man tossed him a pair of black jeans and a loose fitting, large black t-shirt. Magnus frowned, catching the clothes in midair.

"Dude, black? Really?"

Blitz shrugged. "Only things I have. Dye them or something. I'm going to go see Hearth for a moment."

He headed to the door, then stopped just before he turned around and gave Magnus a look.

"And kid, make sure you throw out your old stuff. Don't get into trouble, alright?"

"Okay, dad." Magnus drawled.

Blitz gave him a snort and shut the door behind him. Magnus gave him a halfhearted wave, and started changing his clothes. Shrugging on the T shirt, he emptied his old pockets and stuffed the stuff back into his new jeans. It barely occurred to him that the silver ball of string crumpled up in his pocket was something other than his own. When his old clothes were discarded safely, he realized that he'd forgotten to tell Blitz about the dream he'd had. The illusion of a different Magnus, a different Blitz and Hearth. And how somehow he'd been the son of some god.

He shrugged. Not that it'd matter much.

Scrubbing his hands and face sloppily in the worker's bathroom, Magnus picked up his ragged old clothes and tossed them into the trashcan. Blitz would be angry at the fact that he hadn't burned the 'goddamn awful' clothes too, but Magnus had lost his lighter a while ago. The adolescent glanced out of the shop window.

And froze in surprise and fear.

In the road in front of the shop, there was a large, pretty intimidating truck that was hurtling towards a figure on the middle of the road. It wasn't simply skidding towards the figure; it was actually spinning and blaring, and it's accelerator seemed to be jammed. It was causing a racket, bumping into street lamps and crashing against other cars.

If that'd been everything, Magnus would've probably not have been as frightened as he was. But the figure on the street?

It was Hearth.

When he later tried to recall what happened at that moment, Magnus would only describe what he did as impossible. At least, impossible for a teenage delinquent with weird powers he'd never used before.

He skidded into the street, vaguely realizing that his arms were scratched from the sharp glass he'd shattered. Momentum gained, he ran at full speed towards the black clothed man standing in the road. Magnus grabbed the man, and he pushed him out of harm's way. He had barely the time to see Hearth's alarmed face before the truck slammed into his side.

For a moment, Magnus felt nothing.

He flew through the air, and he could feel his joints buckle and crack, the bones shattering under the pressure of the impact. Blood flew, veins were damaged, and Magnus was pretty sure his left arm was a gigantic mess right then.

And then he landed on the asphalt.

Time seemed to have no meaning as excruciating pain shot through his body, a searing fire numbing his senses. Everything was just so unbearably awful, and his vision was tinted scarlet. Magnus didn't really know if that was because he was crying from the shock, or if he had a concussion. He didn't really care, either.

He could faintly make out alarmed screams and cries, and the face of someone he just knew, but he couldn't quite recall who he was.

Who was Magnus?

Then the pain took over his consciousness, and he was no more.

Haha, Bet you didn't expect that to happen, did you? XD

Don't worry, he's not dead. Probably.

I know there were no Avengers in this one, but there's going to be one soon. Veeery soon.

R&R, please!

P.S. Oh, and take a look at my profile to see if you share any fandoms with me! If you do, suggest some characters you'd like to see in this story!

(A few examples are; Dan & Phil, Harry Potter, Narnia, Transformers, Death Note, PJO, Hetalia, Vocaloid, Eragon, Artemis Fowl, and so on.)