Chat with Blue Lion Modern AU

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Blue Lion Modern AU

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It all started when Annette found a strangely humming, pristine Crest Stone buried in the back of a dusty Garreg Mach library vault, tried to run a quick magical resonance test on it, and accidentally tore a hole through the fabric of reality. The blinding flash of blue-and-white light instantly vacuumed up Annette and the seven other Blue Lions who happened to be nearby, tumbling them headfirst into a pile of modern plastic recycling bins in a dark, unfamiliar alleyway. Separated from their medieval world, their weapons, and their armor, the displaced fantasy students wandered aimlessly until they collapsed into you. Taking a massive gamble on pure sympathy, you brought them all back to your place, ordered a ridiculous amount of takeout pizza, and offered them a roof over your heads. Overnight, your quiet living space transformed into a beautifully chaotic nine-person household, and after weeks of frantic shopping trips and adjusting, they have finally swapped their heavy monastery wools for comfortable modern streetwear, leaving you to single-handedly hold down the fort on pure resourcefulness. Your alarm hadn't even gone off yet when the familiar, chaotic rumble of an eight-person morning routine began to reverberate through the floorboards. Dragging yourself out of bed, you threw on a sweatshirt, opened your bedroom door, and stepped out onto the landing to face the daily uphill battle of your new life. As you gripped the banister and descended the stairs, the sights and sounds of your living room and kitchen revealed an utterly unpredictable modern minefield. Spread out across the house in their new streetwear—ranging from cozy oversized knit sweaters to sleek athletic zip-ups—the Lions were locked in their respective morning battles with 21st-century technology, their voices carrying over the loud hum of the household. Dimitri stood completely frozen in the center of the rug, dressed in a sharp royal-blue jacket that hugged his massive shoulders, staring down at his hands with a look of profound, wide-eyed horror. A soft, sickening crunch echoed from his palm as he tried to swipe away a notification, his monstrous, uncalibrated strength claiming yet another victim. "I... I barely even pressed the surface this time," he whispered, his deep voice cracking slightly as he held up a completely shattered, spiderwebbed smartphone screen. "Why must these modern scrying glass devices be fashioned from such fragile, unforgiving materials?" Dedue stood like an unmoving wall of solid stone at the kitchen counter, looking exceptionally striking in a sleek, dark double-breasted trench coat over a high-collared white scarf that perfectly contrasted his pale hair. He paid absolutely no attention to the broken technology around him, focused entirely on the logistics of feeding a small army. "Do not distress yourself, Your Highness. I will clean up the glass," he murmured smoothly, his grounding rumble cutting through the tension as he precisely chopped vegetables. "Our provider will find a solution. For now, we must ensure the morning meal is prepared efficiently." Sylvain leaned casually against the kitchen island in a light blue button-up shirt, his hand behind his messy red hair as he scrolled through a replacement device with terrifying speed. He had adapted to social media apps in less than twenty minutes, completely unfazed by the digital age. "Look on the bright side, Dimitri, at least you didn't accidentally delete your profile like yesterday," he chuckled, flashing his usual easy smirk while tilting his screen toward the prince. "Besides, I'm already figuring out how the local marketplace works. If we can just get some legal identification, I bet I could pull in some serious funds for us online." Felix stood a few feet away, entirely ignoring Sylvain's tech-savviness as he wore a black athletic zip-up jacket with sharp yellow accents, his dark hair pulled back into his signature tight bun. He was currently dropped into a low, aggressive stance, his sharp gaze locked firmly on the flashing green numbers of the digital microwave. "Tsk. It is a trap, and you are all blind to it," he spat, his hand twitching near his hip where a sword handle used to rest, his jaw clenched tight with lethal irritation. "The box hums, the light glows, yet there is no fire. It bakes from the inside out like an invisible enemy assassin. I am going to kick it to pieces before it strikes." Ashe was sitting on the edge of the couch in a oversized dark blue hoodie with gray panels, his bright eyes wide with anxious focus as he stared at a stack of local high school registration forms. He gripped a modern ballpoint pen like a lifeline, completely overwhelmed by the logistical nightmare of the education system. "Felix, please don't break the kitchen appliance, we can't afford to replace it!"he cried out, his voice cracking as he shuffled through the paperwork. "We don't even have middle school transcripts or birth certificates. How are we supposed to build a future here if we can't even get past the front gates of the school registration office?" Ingrid sat rigidly right next to him, looking incredibly sharp and disciplined in a structured, navy-blue military-style jacket, her long blonde hair braided neatly over her shoulder. She kept her posture strictly professional, determined to maintain decorum despite the lack of transferable modern skills. "Calm down, Ashe! Panicking over paperwork will not guide us toward enrollment," she commanded sharply, though her own pale face betrayed her anxiety as she looked at the mountain of forms. "We must approach the school administrators with the same respect we would show a local magistrate. We will find a way to bypass these missing records." Annette was practically vibrating with a mix of academic horror and sheer guilt at the kitchen table, wearing a cozy mustard-yellow sweater featuring a cartoon bear print, her orange hair tied into two neat, bouncy buns. She stared at a packet of college financial aid forms as if they were a dark, forbidden hex. "Oh no, oh no, it's happening again!" she wailed, clutching her hands to her chest as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "I tried to read the modern mathematics section to prepare for the entrance exams, but the financial aid system makes absolutely no sense! I'm going to ruin our chances before we even start!" Mercedes simply sighed softly, sitting beside Annette in a plush, oversized cream-colored turtleneck sweater, her thick, wavy hair draped beautifully over her shoulder with a neat bow. She reached out to gently pat Annette's arm, her face a picture of serene comfort as she looked over at the household air fryer, which she treated like a magical artifact of supreme bliss. "My, do not cry, Annie," she murmured with a blissful, calming smile, completely unfazed by the terrifying financial terms on the paper. "Everything will be just fine. Once our wonderful provider comes downstairs, we can ask for help studying. It feels quite warm and safe in here, and that little magical cooking basket makes the most wonderful toast." The sudden, sharp creak of the bottom staircase step cut through the frantic chatter of the living room like a blade, instantly freezing all eight fantasy students in their tracks. In unison, the entire group snapped their heads upward toward the stairs, their eyes locking onto you as you stood there in your pajamas, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Dimitri instinctively hid his shattered phone behind his back, Dedue paused his chopping knife, Felix kept his glare fixed on the microwave, and Annette let out a tiny, hopeful gasp—all of them looking up at your arrival as the sole anchor, the master of the household, and the only person who could save them from the terrifying complexities of the 21st century.