Fanfic #196 Changeling by Sonikah(RWBY)

This fanfic is a semi si as Jaune into the world of RWBY. I really like this fic because it has a good starting point that helps to develop the mc and it has a great build up of changes that the mc brings as the story progresses.

Synopsis: Most people who end up in a fantasy setting at least know a bit about it. I don't know where I am or who Jaune Arc is, but I'm stuck in his body. All I can do now is make the best of it and hope no one finds out that I've apparently possessed a four-year-old. Semi-SI/OC

Rated: M

words: 42k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30754919/chapters/75906635

Here's the first chapter:

What is your favorite fairy tale? I should clarify that I don't mean old stories that eventually got adapted into Disney movies with barely any resemblance to the source material. I literally mean tales about actual fairies. Fairies, fey, and fair folk all refer to a wide variety of supernatural beings from European folklore. One notable kind of fairy that appears in most of these cultures is a changeling.

A changeling is a child that is secretly a fairy. Adult fairies would steal away human children and replace them with a fairy child that looks similar enough to the original child to fool the parents. The fairies would do this for various reasons; sometimes they wanted a human child, and other times they simply didn't want to raise their own kid. The origin of the changeling story probably stems from superstitious parents trying to find a reason why their child is sick, deformed, or abnormal. Attributing disorders and disabilities to evil spirits was pretty common back then.

Why did I go on such a long tangent about an obscure folktale?

Well, it seemed applicable to my current situation, given that I'm apparently a four-year-old named Jaune, and two strangers are calling me their son.

Right now I'm eating cereal and trying to hide the fact that I've somehow stolen a toddler's body from the said child's family. Judging from what the blonde woman that's probably supposed to be my mother called me when she woke me up, my name is Jaune. Joan? John? I'm not exactly sure.

Whoever this Jaune kid is, his parents have apparently never heard of birth control. The kitchen is filled with the chatter of six little girls, all with blonde hair and blue eyes. I surreptitiously check my reflection on the back of my spoon to confirm that I look the same. When my "mother" walks into the room holding another baby, I bump that number up to eight children total.

A bearded man with—you guessed it—blonde hair and blue eyes follows her into the room and sits at the head of the table. I have barely a second to process the fact that he's wearing armor for some reason before all of Jaune's siblings greet him with a chorus of "Good morning, daddy!" I join in a half-second later, hoping to God that he doesn't notice anything off about me.

He smiles warmly at all of us. "Good morning, kids. Everyone sleep well?"

His question was met with a flurry of nods that I hurry to imitate. I avoided making eye contact and instead focused on the rabbit-shaped cereal floating in my bowl of milk.

The girls start to return to their chatter but he cuts them off with a clear of his throat. "Now, daddy is going to be out of town for a few days for work, so make sure you listen to your mother, okay?"

"We will!" replied one of Jaune's sisters. "Good luck fighting monsters!"

Uh… what? Monsters? Is he an exterminator or something? But why call them monsters?

I couldn't exactly speak up and reveal my ignorance, so instead I just let my questions go unanswered. For now.

Jaune's mother sat at the table and held a bottle of formula to the baby's mouth. From her cooing encouragement, the baby seemed to be named Amber. Also, did Jaune's parents seriously have seven girls and only one boy? The odds of that—

"Jaune, are you not hungry?" asked Jaune's father. "You've barely touched your food. I thought you loved Pumpkin Pete's?" He looked at me with a concerned frown on his face.

I looked up at him with wide eyes. I was too anxious to actually want any food, but apparently the real Jaune would be scarfing down his breakfast. "I'm fine," I murmured as I stopped stirring my food and started eating it.

Jaune's father turned his attention to the rest of the table. "So," he began, "who's looking forward to going back to school next month?"

One of Jaune's sisters, the girl with glasses, spoke up. "I am! I finished my summer reading in the first week, and I'm looking forward to resuming my studies."

The girl sitting across from her wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Neeeeerd."

The nerd in question turned her nose up at her sister. "At least I—"

The family patriarch cleared his throat loudly and cut the argument off early. "Jade, don't make fun of your sister. Marine, I've told you before that getting a reaction out of you is exactly what she wants."

The two of them grumbled but obeyed. Fortunately for me, their argument gave me several important pieces of information. We were presumably in the middle of summer break, which means I won't need to trick school teachers in addition to Jaune's family. I also now know the names of three of Jaune's siblings. Amber was the baby, Marine was the studious one with the glasses, and Jade was the tomboyish one.

But for now, I should focus on eating. Information gathering can wait until later.

I've finally choked down the entire bowl of horrifically sugary pumpkin-flavored cereal before I realize that I have no idea what "Jaune" is supposed to do now. Is he old enough to go to school? Do I have chores to do? Should I—

"Jaune, have you made up your bed this morning? Chores before playtime, remember?" asks Jaune's mother. Her tone was sweet. But I recognized the command underneath.

I hadn't made up Jaune's bed; I was too busy having an existential crisis at the time to worry about how tidy his room was. I hurriedly retraced my steps back to Jaune's room and mechanically begin making up his (my?) bed. Now that I have a moment to myself, I can consider my current situation in depth.

Okay, let's think this through logically. I woke up in Jaune's body at some point before dawn. I was in so much pain I couldn't even scream, but I'm not showing any signs of injury now. I freaked out for a few hours before my "mother" came in to wake me up for breakfast. Now I just need to figure out why I'm a child.

I began pacing my room, absent-mindedly stepping around discarded toys as I thought.

Option one, my real body is comatose and I'm hallucinating about being "Jaune." This is probably correct, but I'll try to preserve my sanity by considering alternatives. Option two, I'm actually Jaune and I just hallucinated "my" past life. That doesn't explain why I don't remember anything about Jaune's life, but it's more likely than option three: I've actually taken over a child's body somehow.

Just in case it would end this nightmare, I pinched my arm. It didn't work, just like the last thirty times I tried. I looked around at Jaune's room. It wasn't huge, but focusing on my immediate surroundings let me delay my existential crisis a little bit more.

Jaune's room wasn't huge, which made sense. A family with eight children couldn't afford to waste much space. Most of the toys and clothes looked like hand-me-downs from "my" sisters, but they were in good condition. The size of the clothing really drove home just how young Jaune was.

God, is this screwed up or what? Jaune can't be more than four years old and his body has been stolen by a… teenager? A grown man? I paused. How old am I again? I… I can't remember.

Forgetting your exact age is somewhat normal. But I couldn't remember if I was thirteen or thirty. I also couldn't remember what my birthday was, or where I lived, or what my parents looked like, or what I looked like, or what my fucking name was.

I couldn't remember anything.

I stopped crying about an hour later.

I wiped my face off on a blanket and tried to ignore the fact that I was crying like a… well, I was crying like a four-year-old child.

Okay. Okay. Let's think this through. I can't remember any details about my past life. But I do remember other information. I'm fluent in multiple languages. I read lots of books and can quote parts of them. I know way too much useless trivia. I have no idea how or when I learned these things, but I can be reasonably sure that I know information that Jaune wouldn't have access to.

I grabbed one of Jaune's books and opened it. It was about the level that I expected for a kid who had probably just learned to read recently. There's no way he could know obscure information like the capital of Albania or the speed of light.

That narrows down the explanations for what's going on to either being in a coma or being the victim of a soul transfer. If it's the former, I can't do anything about it. If it's the latter, then I need to learn more about Jaune to imitate him better. Fortunately, children are easy to trick, and this house is full of them.

A glance out the window revealed several of the children playing outside in the backyard. My course decided, I opened my door and peered out to see if Jaune's parents were anywhere. The coast was clear, so I crept out in search of an exit. After a harrowing thirty-second-long journey, I make it outside.

Only four of Jaune's sisters are out here. The one with glasses, the baby, and one of the other ones are all nowhere to be seen. The two identical twins (who are also identically dressed for some reason) are running away from the oldest-looking one as she chases them while laughing. The tomboyish girl is kicking a soccer ball around.

The tall girl (who I cleverly name Orange after her orange shirt) stops chasing the twins to wave at me. "Hey, Jaune! What took you so long?"

Orange seemed like a bit of a worrier, which makes sense. She's clearly the oldest of Jaune's siblings at around ten-years-old, and having seven younger siblings would make anyone responsible. Unfortunately for me, that makes her another person who could notice that I'm not actually Jaune.

"Uh… nothing!" I replied and I inwardly cursed my inability to think up a smarter response.

Orange gave me a weird look and hummed. Fortunately, a distraction came in the form of one of twins sneaking up behind her and dropping a clump of grass down the back of her shirt. She squealed and whirled around to watch the prankster sprinting away. "Mocha! Get back here!"

The fleeing girl looked over her shoulder to blow a raspberry at her older sister. "I'm not Mocha, I'm Tawny! Mocha is the one behind Jaune!" She quit her taunting and picked up speed when she saw her older sister running towards her.

I guess the twins were named Mocha and Tawny? Those are pretty weird names, but then again so is "Jaune." Wait a second, right now my name is Jaune.

Someone, presumably Mocha, dropped grass down the back of my shirt.

I whirled around in shock just in time to see her running away in the same direction as her sister. When in Rome, I thought as I began chasing the prankster too. Playing around like this was a childish, but the real Jaune would do this (and it was kind of fun anyway).

Note to self. Four-year-olds cannot outrun seven-year-olds even if said four-year-old is possibly much older. I was currently lying flat on my back and panting after failing to catch Mocha. I couldn't catch Tawny, either. The two of them joined up at some point and I couldn't tell them apart. I did learn a few more names, though. The older girl that I was mentally referring to as "Orange" is apparently named Saphron. I think saffron is a shade of orange? Everyone in the family seems to have a color-based name and clothes to match their color. Maybe that's the only way Jaune's parents can tell them all apart?

Speaking of Jaune's siblings, they've run off to play elsewhere, so I have a few moments to myself. I take a seat on the lawn and look around. Jaune's family seems pretty well-off; they have a large backyard that is separated from a forest by a wooden fence. The forest seems mostly undisturbed; I can't spot any buildings further in.

I quickly glance around to see if any of the kids are around and finally let my façade fall. Running around and playing with Jaune's siblings hadn't managed to improve my mood. I was still full of fear and anxiety. There was no way I could keep up this charade for too long. Maybe I could feign a head injury or amnesia? I doubt I could maintain a lie under close scrutiny, though. Whoever I was before I became Jaune, I don't get the sense that I was a great liar.

I could be wrong about that, of course. I can't exactly make many assumptions when I don't even know if I was a real person and not a figment of a comatose mind. I could be—

I shook my head. I can't have an existential breakdown right now. My situation is too fragile. One slip-up could be disastrous. I need to figure out a plan while I still have some time. Thankfully, this backyard is large enough that I can barely see the kids playing near the house. I'm fairly isolated and I can think without any distractions.

At least the forest beyond the fence is peaceful enough. The tree leaves are green, there's no annoying birdsong, and the sun overhead is— is that a fucking werewolf?!

Unless I was hallucinating (which was a distinct possibility), there was a large, humanoid wolf standing in the forest beyond the fence. The thing had black fur, glowing red eyes, and spiky bone plating covering it. It looked incredibly scary.

I made the executive decision to run the hell away from the giant monster. I slowly rose to my feet and began walking backwards, keeping my eyes on the eight-foot-tall beast the whole time. The thing took a step forward and I abandoned my plan of slowly escaping in favor of sprinting away as fast as I could. I was maybe halfway to the house when I heard the wooden fence get shattered, presumably by the werewolf. The noise drew the girls' attention, and they screamed when they saw the monster.

Good news, I'm not hallucinating the giant monster chasing me down. Bad news, I'm not hallucinating the giant monster chasing me down.

The girls had run into the house screaming (Saphron screamed for help the twins screamed in terror), but Jade was standing in the doorframe and looking in my direction with a horrified look on her face. I really didn't want to know how close the werewolf was, but its footsteps were getting louder by the second.

I wasn't even going to survive a full day in Jaune's body, and his sister would be forced to watch him get mauled to death by a giant monster. I can even see Jaune's father through a window on the second story of the house staring out at me in terror. Is it weird that I'm worried more about traumatizing these people than fearing for my own life?

And then of course I tripped like an idiot. Is this what victims in a slasher movie feel like? I'm going to get eaten alive by a monster because I managed to pull one of the oldest tropes in the book. I looked up numbly as the werewolf got within jumping distance of me. My life would be flashing before my eyes if I actually remembered any of it.

I guess this is it. Sorry, Jaune. I wish you had a chance to say goodbye to your family.

All of a sudden, there was a crash behind me from a window shattering. Then Jaune's father blurred past me holding a sword of all things and fucking decapitated the werewolf.

Holy shit.

My savior let out a deep breath as the werewolf collapsed. His shoulders were shaking for the briefest of seconds, but they steading quickly. He looked over his shoulder with a smile that could've assuaged anyone's fears.

"Don't worry, son. Your father's here."

After a moment I managed to find my voice. "Th-thanks."

I pulled my gaze off of him to watch the werewolf's corpse slowly begin to disintegrate.

I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore.