The Rambling Transformers x reader blog🔞

“Uhm… Bee, I don’t think the cows need that much hay,” Sari stated with an uncertain tone.

You turned to look at him. “What did I just say?!” you yelled when you saw him carrying five haypiles.

“Relax! I got it!” Bumblebee said, even though the weight of the haypiles was clearly making his knee joints shake. He yelled when the weight became too much for him and he started moving backward toward your chicken coop.

“Watch out!” you yelled in panic.

Your geese and chickens quickly fled as Bumblebee crashed into the chicken coop. Your barn cat, Missy, who was sleeping on top of the coop, got launched into the air,

You quickly transformed, catching your cat and any bird that got launched as well.

Prowl acted quickly, catching the flying hay piles before they could land on any of your animals or cause damage to the fences. He set them down and even gently placed a few chickens that landed on his hand down to the ground.

You and Sari sighed in relief. Crisis averted.

You placed your barn cat and birds on the ground. Missy hissed at Bumblebee before bolting off.

Bumblebee groaned while still sitting in your now destroyed chicken coop. “Oops,” he said cheekily while rubbing his head. One of your geese angrily honked at him before waddling away.

“Thank you, Prowl. Great reflexes,” you said as he nodded in response.

“Say… those moves look rather familiar. Can I ask where you learned them?” you asked.

“I learned in the Ninja Corps under Master Yoketron,” Prowl answered.

“Yoketron?” you questioned, recognizing the name. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. He… perished in an attack on the Ninja Corps, didn’t he?”

“Did you know him by chance?” Prowl asked curiously.

“We met a few times during the war. Sometimes I dropped by to exchange news and have a drink. You could say he knew things about me that no one else did,” you answered.

"There are things no one knows about you?" Sari asked with intrigue. "Like what?"

"And that's when I say, 'It's a private matter.' Besides…" You chuckle with a shrug. "You probably wouldn't believe it, even if I told you."

Sari whined. "Come on. Tell us!"

"Yeah! It would be so cool to know things about you no one else does!" Bumblebee agreed after pulling himself out of the destroyed chicken coop.

You narrowed your optics at him. "With your blabber mouth, it would not stay a secret for long."

Bumblebee moaned. "Come on! I can keep secrets!"

Prowl stepped forward. "I am curious about your past relationship with Master Yoketron. Could you perhaps share more about your encounters with him, general?" he asked.

"Yeah! Sure!" you shrugged. "The last time I saw him happened a long time ago, but I guess I could tell you how we met, " you said, thinking about how you met the ninja bot.

The first meeting happened when you had only recently become a commander. It was one of those rare, peaceful days. With your troops taking a well-deserved rest, you decided to warm up and practice your former martial arts. With your past memories intact and a brand new war to fight, you might as well retain some of your old combat skills.

Your practice caught the attention of a passing student from the Ninja Corps, who was fascinated by your movements. They introduced themselves and asked about your martial arts—they had never seen a style like yours before.

You explained, even giving a brief demonstration. The student grew excited and asked if you’d be willing to meet Master Yoketron of the Ninja Corps. You had heard of both the bot and the Corps, but never had the time to satisfy your curiosity. With free time to spare, you agreed and followed the student to their dojo.

The meeting was… peculiar.

As you entered the hall, you looked around with quiet curiosity. Then your gaze settled on a bot clad in black and white armor, lined with subtle traces of gold.

The young student bowed respectfully. “Master Yoketron, this is the bot I spoke of.”

You gave a short bow. “Pleasure to meet you, Master Yoketron. I am Commander (Name) of the Seventh Fleet,” you introduced yourself.

Yoketron nodded. “I have heard of you, Commander. Your accomplishments are well known throughout Cybertron. Your tactical mind and control over battles are considered most unique.”

“Just trying to do my part in this war. Sometimes thinking outside the box, instead of following typical protocols, can help you move forward—even from the tightest spots,” you said.

Yoketron nodded again. “And now I hear you know martial arts unknown to us—an art that makes you move like wind through iron.”

You chuckled. “I’ve been many things in many battles. Now I try to move forward.”

Yoketron’s gaze lingered. “I can see that you carry a weight most would be crushed by,” he said quietly. “Your spark… it echoes, as if it has walked this path before.”

You said nothing at first. Then, with a faint smile, you replied, “Perhaps it has.”

The conversation continued—measured, respectful, and strange in a way you couldn’t quite define. You took the opportunity to satisfy your curiosity about the Ninja Corps while demonstrating your martial arts to them. Your style, though somewhat familiar to them, was clearly distinct, and most of the students watched with interest.

You shared a carefully edited version of your origins, explaining that your martial arts style was common in your hometown on Cybertron—not, as in truth, derived from your old army’s combat techniques fused with another discipline you had encountered in your previous life.

Things grew even more unusual when the student quietly excused themselves, leaving you alone with Master Yoketron.

“Commander… not only do you know techniques that are not known to us, but I sense you haven’t been entirely truthful about your origins,” Yoketron said, voice calm but probing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral.

Yoketron’s gaze sharpened. “You move like someone trained in silence… but not silence born from Cybertronian tradition. There’s something different in your form. And your spark—it hums with something ancient.”

You glanced toward the exit. “I think I should get back to my fleet. This war’s not going to win itself by sitting around,” you said, preparing to leave.

But Yoketron moved.

He struck out with a sudden kick—fast and precise. You blocked it on reflex, raising your arm just in time.

A second kick came almost instantly. You parried it again, the force pushing you a step back.

He circled you slowly. “Your blocks… are fluid. Adaptive. That’s not standard Autobot technique. Your stance shifts between two distinct disciplines. One is direct, designed for combat. The other—graceful, deceptive, and centered.”

You kept pace with him, exchanging light blows. “Well… in truth, it's a mix,” you admitted between movements.

“The first is a combat art developed by an army I once served—a style meant to win fights quickly or disarm opponents. The second… I learned from another group of people, during a time I was lost. It focuses on calm, deceptive movement, joint locks, and flow. Together, they have helped me survive more than once,” you explained as you managed to keep up with him.

Yoketron paused mid-step, observing you with growing curiosity.

“And your spark…” he said slowly, “It does not feel like one born recently. It carries echoes… as if it's lived more than once.”

You lowered your stance slightly, your tone softening. “Well… if you really want to know, I can tell you. It’s a long story, so how about we sit down and maybe share some oil?” you offered with a small smile.

Yoketron gave a faint nod. “Very well.”

You met his gaze, this time without deflecting. “But first things first… do you believe in the possibility of rebirth?”

After Yoketron had his student bring some lightweight oil, the two of you sat down in quiet contemplation. Slowly, you began to tell him about your rebirth that brought you to Cybertron after dying in another life.

“So, you are indeed a soul living a second life,” Yoketron said, more observation than question.

“It sounds a bit bogus, but that is, in fact, the truth. I actually used to be an organic in my previous life,” you said with a faint smile. “After I died, instead of facing some kind of purgatory or afterlife, I woke up as a newborn Cybertronian with all my past memories intact.”

Yoketron’s optics narrowed, thoughtful. “Fascinating. And you retained your former skills from that life?”

“I did,” you said with a nod. “In that life, I was a war general. After one battle, I was presumed dead—left behind and wounded. I wandered until I found a temple hidden deep in the mountains. Monks took me in and taught me their ways—the second martial art I use now.”

You paused with a sigh. “I died in the final days of the war—took a bullet to the chest.”

“I sincerely hope the same doesn’t happen in this war. That would be a really ridiculous déjà vu,” you added with a dry chuckle.

“If I may ask, why was there a war in your previous life?” Yoketron asked.

“The usual reasons. Corrupt politics. One group thinking they’re better than the other,” you answered.

“So when I woke up as a newborn Cybertronian, I figured I’d use this second chance to finally get the retirement I missed last time around.”

You looked down into your cup of oil, swirling it slightly. “But then the war happened—and it got bad enough that I needed to pick a side.”

Yoketron remained silent, his expression unreadable.

“I tried to stay out of this war,” you admitted. "I already fought one war in my previous one, so I didn't feel like fighting another,"

“But as the war progressed and neutrals started getting targeted, I figured I’d at least choose the side that was less bad.”

“You consider the Autobots the lesser evil?” Yoketron asked calmly.

“The Autobots weren’t exactly the good guys before the war started. The old Senate was corrupt—rotten to the core. Imagine being born, and your worth is determined solely by what you can transform into. If your alt-mode wasn’t useful, you were considered a waste of space,” you said.

Yoketron said nothing, simply listening.

“Even now, the Autobots still struggle to accept bots who are different, preferring to stay in their comfort zone of traditional values,” you continued.

“And the Decepticons… well, their original cause had some merit. They wanted equality and to stop a system that judged a bot by function or form. That is something I do believe should have been a basic right,”

You exhaled slowly.

“But once the war started, they began dragging innocent worlds into their conquest for power and colonization. That’s my real issue with them.”

“Not to mention their narrow-minded views toward organics. Even if some organics are primitive or act purely on instinct, that doesn’t automatically make them inferior to you. It seems they’ve forgotten they were once seen as inferior by their own kind,” you said.

“The universe is vast—there’s space for all life to thrive.”

“So I sided with the Autobots—not because I believe they’re better than the Decepticons, but because at least they don’t purposely drag innocent worlds into a war that was never theirs to begin with.”

“There have been times I had to act against protocols just to keep myself and my troops alive. Some in high command have a troubling belief that bots are expendable, but I don’t believe in such a thing,” you said.

Yoketron tilted his head slightly. “If you don’t fully believe in the Autobot cause… what do you believe in?”

You looked him in the optics.

“I believe in doing what’s right.” You answered without hesitation.  “I made a lot of mistakes in my past life, so I don’t intend to repeat them.”

“Maybe if the Senate hadn’t been so corrupt, none of this would’ve happened. But here we are.”

“War can bring out the worst in everyone. You’ll see awful things from both sides—things no one wants to admit.”

“One side is not more righteous than the other. Both have truths. Both have blood on their hands. At the end of the day, we’re all Cybertronians—and we’re all going to the same place when we die.”

Yoketron nodded slowly. “You have respectable values, Commander.”

You smiled faintly. “I hope I can hold onto them. Like I said. War can bring out the worst in people. "

“But… if there’s one thing I want to change in this life, it’s that no one in my fleet is expendable. And no one should ever have to fear being different. Maybe I can knock some sense into those bots in high command so they’ll accept the real values of life.”

“Perhaps those values are what make your fleet more unique than other Autobot fleets—not just because of your tactical mind, but because of the loyalty your soldiers hold toward you. I’ve heard of no other fleets whose soldiers show such loyalty to their commanders,” Yoketron said.

You chuckled. “All I did was show them the decency a commander should. I don’t know if such a thing should surprise anyone,” you said.

You sighed. “Well… I think that’s enough philosophy for today. Thank you, Master Yoketron. Talking about it actually eased some weight off my chest.”

“You’re actually the first bot to learn about me having a past life,” you said with another chuckle.

Yoketron nodded. “Fate can work in mysterious ways,” he said.

“Well… I feel like fate is purposely sabotaging my chances of having a retirement,” you chuckled. “Imagine dying in war and being reborn into another. Some higher power could be having a real laugh right now,” you added.

You rose to your feet with a faint smile. “Well… I think that’s enough chitchat for today. Unfortunately, I don’t get many days off,” you said.

“But I might drop by again. And since I’ve got a second chance at life, do you think you could share a few tricks with this old soul?” You offered a small bow, the gesture carrying genuine respect.

Yoketron inclined his head in return, his expression unreadable but his tone warm. “As would I, Commander. May fortune follow you in the days ahead—and in your war efforts.”

You looked at the youngsters. “After that, I sometimes visited, exchanged news, and learned a few tricks—until the war took up most of my time. So I never really had the chance to see him again,” you said. “It’s a real pity what happened to him. I would have liked to share one last drink with him.”

Prowl, Bumblebee, and Sari looked at you with fascination.

Prowl nodded thoughtfully. “Master Yoketron mentioned you quite a bit during my training. He spoke highly of your skills—and the influence you had on him.”

You smiled faintly. “I guess we both learned from each other, then.”

“Wait! What was the thing he knew about you?” Bumblebee asked. “You never mentioned that in your story.”

You grinned. "And may that be something only he knew,"

Bumblebee and Sari groaned.

“Can you at least show me your martial art?” Sari asked.

You shrugged. “I see no reason why not. How about it, Prowl? Ready for a short spar with this old bot?”

Prowl smirked and agreed. The two of you engaged in a brief sparring match—close and challenging, but in the end, you came out on top.

Breathing heavily, Prowl said, “You’re really talented, General. Maybe you could teach me a few things.”

You patted Prowl on the back as he stood up. “I’m not sure what this old rust bucket of bolts can teach you, but I’ll say this: having known your master and seen you do good things, I believe—you might just be one of his best students yet,” you said.

“Thank you, General,” Prowl nodded respectfully.

“Now then…” you turned to Bumblebee with a grin. “You, little maggot, you’re going to help me rebuild my chicken coop.”

Bumblebee groaned dramatically. “Aw, come on! Do I really have to?”

You laughed. “Yes, you do. You broke it, you fix it. Now get to it!” you said strictly.