#Liquid Rocket Engine

[ages-and-pages]

SpaceX Merlin 1D liquid rocket engine.

[identifying-spacecraft-in-posts]

Roscosmos Space Shuttle 1K 1.01 Buran (Snowstorm)

Antonov An-225 Mriya (Dream)

[rabbitcruiser]

Robert Goddard Day

Robert Goddard Day is celebrated on March 16 every year. It is a day to celebrate the great mind of Dr. Robert Hutchings Goddard and his achievements. He is known as the father of American rocketry and the space age. Dr. Goddard discovered the technology and created the first liquid-fueled rocket in 1926. The success of his test is considered a milestone in the space age. His achievement is of the same importance as the invention of the Wright brothers in testing the first flight. He conducted the test from Auburn, Massachusetts, earning him the title “the father of modern rocket propulsion.”

History of Robert Goddard Day

Flight is a dream for every human being. Birds have always made us jealous with their ability to soar through the freedom of the vast white expanse of the sky, watching the flightless beings on the ground. On December 17, 1903, the Wright brothers took to the sky, giving wings to the dreams of humans to touch the sky. What felt like an impossible event a few decades ago is now easy to achieve. With the sky conquered, the next dream is to reach the infinite distances of space. The problem with the airplane is that it depends on the air and air pressure. Space does not have air, and, thus flight is not possible.

Dr. Robert Hutchings Goddard was born on October 5, 1882, in Worcester, Massachusetts. He had a way to work in a vacuum. He predicted that a rocket would be able to work in the emptiness of space as it does not need air to push. He was a physics teacher at Clark University in Worcester. He had already started working on his idea of space travel in 1915. When Goddard claimed that the rockets could be used to transport payloads to the moon, he was ridiculed, and his theory was considered folly. But time taught them they were wrong.

Goddard did not live long enough to see his childhood dream of space travel realized. But his work laid the foundation for propelling modern space dreams.

Robert Goddard Day timeline

1909

The Gunpowder Rockets

As a student at Worcester Polytechnic Institute in Massachusetts, Goddard experiments on a gunpowder-powered rocket.

1923

The Director of Physical Laboratory

Goddard is appointed the director of the Physical Laboratory.

1926

The First Rocket Test

Goddard tests the first liquid-fueled rocket.

1959

The Goddard Space Flight Center

Nasa establishes Goddard Space Flight Center in Maryland.

Robert Goddard Day FAQs

Why was the liquid-fueled rocket important?

Liquid rockets can provide more thrust and allow engineers to specify the range of the rocket.

Why is it important to have rockets?

They help deliver satellites to space and enable global communication, weather forecasts, and other technologies like GPS, which are an integral part of our lives.

How did rockets change the world?

Rockets changed warfare. Due to intercontinental ballistic missiles and nuclear warheads, wars are no longer possible between major powers due to mutually assured destruction. Rockets also opened a frontier for space exploration. It helped revolutionize the technologies that we are so dependent on.

How to Observe Robert Goddard Day

Carry out a science experiment: This day is best spent doing a science experiment. You can start small with an experiment like collecting gas from a soda bottle. Record the experiment and post it on social media.

Watch a scientific documentary: Another easy way to spend the day is by watching scientific documentaries. Fluidity, air pressure, gravity, space, chemistry, etc. You choose the topic and start watching.

Create a mini rocket: You can purchase small rockets that can be assembled and taken off. Don’t worry, if they are not as advanced as the original rockets. We do not have to be rocket scientists to work on them.

5 Interesting Facts About Rockets

Arrows and rockets: The first rockets were used to propel arrows with greater speed and impact.

The first rockets: The Song dynasty of China found ways to weaponize gunpowder-powered rockets during the tenth century.

The ‘Father of Rockets’: It took Goddard 17 years to develop the first liquid-fueled rockets.

The iron-cased rockets: Tipu Sultan of India used iron-cased rockets for military use.

The first space rocket: In 1957, Russia created Sputnik, the first rocket that reached space.

Why Robert Goddard Day is Important

Space is infinite: Space is infinite. The contributions of Dr. Goddard helped us reach the infinity of space.

Sky is no longer the limit: Something beyond the sky just opened up thanks to the rockets. Now we can dream even bigger into the vast dark space.

It promotes innovations: Innovations can change society. With the advancement in technology, advancement in human civilization follows. The rocket's innovation now allows us to launch satellites and progress into the modern world.

Source

[cyber-seagull404]

ELON MUSK FART ROCKET EXPLOSION PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANET EARTH

[identifying-spacecraft-in-posts]

Reaction Engines Ltd. Skylon Spaceplane Concept

Have you ever seen a poster and thought.

Wait what.

I just did so i googled

Huh. That seems.... not that far? What about...

Okay. Okay that's... still.... but maybe I'm seeing distances wrong let's try what the poster said

.....

Huh. That's. I'm. Wait what is...

Okay so the international space station is roughly 10 times closer to me than the west coast is that's fine this is fine I'm fine what

[militarydrones]

Liquid Fuel Rocket Engine

Liquid Fuel Rocket Engines are the workhorses of modern space exploration, propelling humanity deeper into the cosmos and unlocking the mysteries of the universe. Their continued development and refinement will play a vital role in shaping the future of space travel and opening up new frontiers for scientific discovery and human exploration.

[tenth-sentence]

Two minutes after the vents were sealed, a valve at the bottom of the upper tank opened, and oxygen began to flow down into the F-1s.

"The Moon: A History for the Future" - Oliver Morton

[techninja]

Hydrogen Rockets: The Key to Sustainable Space Exploration

Introduction to Hydrogen Rocket Engine

In the realm of space exploration, the quest for efficient propulsion systems has led to the development and utilization of hydrogen rocket engines. These engines harness the power of hydrogen, the most abundant element in the universe, to propel spacecraft into the cosmos with remarkable efficiency and power.

History of Hydrogen Rocket Engine Development

The concept of using hydrogen as a propellant dates back to the early days of rocketry. However, it wasn't until the mid-20th century that significant advancements were made in the development of hydrogen rocket engines. Pioneering work by scientists and engineers paved the way for the modern hydrogen propulsion systems we see today.

How Hydrogen Rocket Engines Work

Fuel Combustion Process

Hydrogen rocket engines operate on the principle of combustion. Liquid hydrogen is combined with liquid oxygen in a combustion chamber, where it undergoes a controlled explosion. This rapid combustion generates intense heat and pressure, producing a powerful stream of hot gases.

Thrust Generation

The expulsion of these hot gases through a nozzle at the rear of the rocket creates thrust according to Newton's third law of motion. This thrust propels the rocket forward, overcoming the forces of gravity and atmospheric resistance.

Advantages of Hydrogen Rocket Engines

Hydrogen rocket engines offer several key advantages over conventional propulsion systems:

High Efficiency: Hydrogen boasts one of the highest specific impulse values among rocket propellants, making it extremely efficient in terms of thrust per unit of propellant mass.

Clean Combustion: The combustion of hydrogen with oxygen produces water vapor as a byproduct, resulting in cleaner emissions compared to traditional rocket fuels.

Abundant Resource: Hydrogen is abundant in the universe, making it a sustainable and readily available resource for space exploration endeavors.

Challenges and Limitations

Despite its many advantages, hydrogen rocket technology also faces significant challenges and limitations.

Cryogenic Storage

One of the primary challenges associated with hydrogen rocket engines is the need for cryogenic storage. Liquid hydrogen must be kept at extremely low temperatures to remain in a liquid state, requiring specialized storage and handling systems.

Cost and Infrastructure

The infrastructure required to produce, store, and transport liquid hydrogen adds to the overall cost of hydrogen rocket technology. Additionally, the development of hydrogen propulsion systems necessitates substantial investments in research and development.

Applications of Hydrogen Rocket Engines

Hydrogen rocket engines find a wide range of applications in space exploration and satellite deployment missions.

Space Exploration

Hydrogen-powered rockets enable spacecraft to travel vast distances across the solar system, facilitating missions to explore distant planets, moons, and celestial bodies.

Satellite Deployment

The high efficiency and reliability of hydrogen rocket engines make them ideal for launching satellites into orbit around the Earth and beyond.

Comparison with Traditional Rocket Engines

Compared to traditional rocket engines fueled by kerosene or solid propellants, hydrogen rocket engines offer superior performance and environmental benefits. They deliver higher specific impulse and produce cleaner emissions, contributing to a more sustainable approach to space exploration.

Environmental Impact and Sustainability

The environmental impact of hydrogen rocket engines is relatively minimal compared to conventional propulsion systems. The use of hydrogen as a fuel results in cleaner combustion and reduced greenhouse gas emissions, aligning with efforts to mitigate the environmental footprint of space exploration activities.

Future Prospects and Developments

As technology advances and our understanding of hydrogen propulsion deepens, the future holds great promise for hydrogen rocket engines. Ongoing research and development efforts aim to enhance efficiency, reduce costs, and overcome existing limitations, paving the way for new frontiers in space exploration.

Conclusion

Hydrogen rocket engines represent a cornerstone of modern space exploration, offering unparalleled efficiency, reliability, and environmental sustainability. While challenges remain, ongoing advancements in technology and infrastructure continue to expand the horizons of human spaceflight and scientific discovery.

FAQs

Are hydrogen rocket engines more powerful than traditional rocket engines? Hydrogen rocket engines typically offer higher specific impulse values, making them more efficient in terms of thrust per unit of propellant mass.

What are the main challenges associated with hydrogen rocket technology? Cryogenic storage and infrastructure costs are among the primary challenges facing hydrogen rocket technology.

What are the environmental benefits of hydrogen rocket engines? Hydrogen combustion produces cleaner emissions compared to traditional rocket fuels, contributing to reduced environmental impact.

What are the primary applications of hydrogen rocket engines? Hydrogen rocket engines are used in space exploration missions and satellite deployment operations.

What does the future hold for hydrogen rocket technology? Ongoing research and development efforts aim to improve efficiency, reduce costs, and expand the capabilities of hydrogen rocket engines.

[jurph]

Apollo was a turbopump development program with the convenient side effect of achieving round-trip lunar missions.

Photographs of the Saturn V rocket by Dave Wilson, 2014

[ages-and-pages]

Pratt & Whitney RL-10 Rocket Engine

wacamerabuff on Flickr

[nasa]

ALT: This video shows blades of grass moving in the wind on a beautiful day at NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility in New Orleans. In the background, we see the 212-foot-core stage for the powerful SLS (Space Launch System) rocket used for Artemis I. The camera ascends, revealing the core stage next to a shimmering body of water as technicians lead it towards NASA’s Pegasus barge. Credit: NASA

The SLS (Space Launch System) Core Stage by Numbers

Technicians with NASA and SLS core stage lead contractor Boeing, along with RS-25 engines lead contractor Aerojet Rocketdyne, an L3Harris Technologies company, are nearing a major milestone for the Artemis II mission. The SLS (Space Launch System) rocket’s core stage for Artemis II is fully assembled and will soon be shipped via barge from NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility in New Orleans to the agency’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Once there, it will be prepped for stacking and launch activities.

Get to know the core stage – by the numbers.

Standing 212 feet tall and measuring 27.6 feet in diameter, the SLS core stage is the largest rocket stage NASA has ever built. Due to its size, the hardware must be shipped aboard NASA’s Pegasus barge.

900 miles

Once loaded, the barge – which was updated to accommodate the giant core stage -- will travel 900 miles to Florida across inland and ocean waterways. Once at Kennedy, teams with our Exploration Ground Systems team will complete checkouts for the core stage prior to stacking preparations.

18 Miles + 500 Sensors

As impressive as the core stage is on the outside, it’s also incredible on the inside. The “brains” of the rocket consist of three flight computers and special avionics systems that tell the rocket what to do. This is linked to 18 miles of cabling and more than 500 sensors and systems to help feed fuel and steer the four RS-25 engines.

8.8 million

Speaking of engines… Our SLS Moon rocket generates approximately 8.8 million pounds of thrust at launch. Two million pounds come from the four powerful RS-25 engines at the base of the core stage, while each of the two solid rocket boosters produces a maximum thrust of 3.6 million pounds. Together, the engines and boosters will help launch a crew of four Artemis astronauts inside NASA’s Orion spacecraft beyond Earth orbit to venture around the Moon.

733,000 Gallons

Achieving the powerful thrust required at launch calls for a large amount of fuel - 733,000 gallons, to be precise. The stage has two huge propellant tanks that hold the super-cooled liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen that make the rocket “go.” A new liquid hydrogen storage sphere has recently been built at Kennedy, which can store 1.25 million gallons of liquid hydrogen.

Four

The number four doesn’t just apply to the RS-25 engines. It’s also the number of astronauts who will fly inside our Orion spacecraft atop our SLS rocket for the first crewed Artemis mission. When NASA astronauts Reid Wiseman, Christina Koch, and Victor Glover along with CSA astronaut Jeremy Hansen launch, they will be the first astronauts returning to the Moon in more than 50 years.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[lets-try-some-writing]

You know the book/movie The Martian? What if that happened in the Earth and Unicron Au? A NASA mission gone wrong gets an astronaut stranded on Mars' surface with no way home or even to communicate with Earth, at least those with NASA, not Earth herself. Would Mars want to help or hinder this poor lost soul that just wanted to go home? I'm pretty sure Earth wouldn't appreciate that one of her children died on Mars and he could have prevented it. Though if I'm being honest, with how Mars' citizens died, I doubt he would try to get the little fleshy killed.

A quick little fic was required for this ask.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Being the first astronaut to be sent to Mars should have been an honor, an accomplishment just as great as the Moon landing. But Gabriel always knew deep down that something was bound to go wrong. Something  always went wrong. The Russians sent dogs into space first for a reason. NASA however didn’t seem to care as much for human life now that they supposedly had space travel down. They wanted someone on Mars before China could get a man up there, and they were willing to go to any lengths to do so.

Gabriel wasn’t the first pick for the Mars mission. There had been two others chosen before him, but Abigail Knight had dropped out of the running for unknown reasons. Her runner up, Horace Gail, had been removed from the mission after he was discovered drugged to high heavens in his apartment a few weeks before he was meant to get on the rocket. That left Gabriel, the only other astronaut who actually knew the controls and went through the year-long preparation program to get used to living on Mars via simulation. 

He wasn’t exactly thrilled to be given the mission. Sure, he always wanted to travel to other worlds, but going with a crew that hadn’t run the simulation just felt risky. Personally, he would have preferred to dog out of the mission entirely and let the honor of first landing go to another astronaut if it meant he’d have a fully trained crew with him.

But again, NASA really wanted their man on Mars. So despite the risks, Gabriel found himself suited up, strapped into the rocket, and thrown into space. It was surreal. And quite frankly, the trip went far faster than he expected. Supposedly the science guys on the ground had made some sort of breakthrough that allowed for short range ‘skips’ as they called them. The shuttle would have momentary bursts of speed that allowed it to skip over huge portions of space without burning excess fuel. There was a lot of science involved, and Gabriel liked to think he knew his tech, but looking at the engines, he didn’t know what the hell was going on.

Strange blue liquid powered the whole thing. He was told not to touch it, and he obeyed without question. None of the crew knew what it was, or what all the strange ‘skips’ were about. But of course, NASA’s mission came first. So Gabriel wasn’t given time to question. The moment they were within range of Mars, a message was sent back and Gabriel was loaded up with an American flag and the express mission of getting to the surface in one piece and plopping it down. The looks he got from the crew indicated they really didn’t care if he made it back or not.

Very comforting indeed. This was why he would have preferred a team who’d run the simulation.

“Ready Gabriel?” The woman in the control room spoke through Gabriel’s in-built communicator as he stood before the hatch leading to the void outside. He sighed before replying.

“Ready. Let’s get this show on the road.” The woman laughed over the link. Gabriel never bothered to learn her name. It would have been nice to know now that he thought about it.

No time for regrets. His grand mark on humanity’s history was before him.

“Good luck! Doors opening in 3, 2, 1-” The woman’s voice was cut off as the hatch opened. Gabriel expected the rapid pull into space as the hatch decompressed, but it was still startling to be dragged toward the surface of Mars by the drone NASA assigned. Once upon a time, Astronauts got to the surface in pods. But in an attempt to save resources or something along those lines, now drones were the way forward.

Gabriel patiently endured his descent to the planet’s surface, his suit absorbing the worst of the shock as he adjusted to the gravity. He made a show of his first few steps, knowing the crew was watching from above. He planted the flag, repeated his scripted words, and then looked back up to the ship. He activated the link, trying to signal for pickup. All he got in return was static.

“Hey, console lady, what the hell is going on up there? I’m ready for pickup already.” Gabriel hit his communicator again, but no matter how hard he tried to get the signal through, he got nothing back. He watched on in growing horror as the shuttle hovered above him, and then slowly, its thrusters activated.

“Wait! Hold on! I’m still down here!” He screamed, not caring if his oxygen levels were in peril or not as he tried to wave his arms. Something had to have gone wrong. System failure perhaps? They couldn’t be leaving him. That wasn’t part of the simulation or NASA’s plan.

No response. The shuttle sped off, ‘skipping’ into the distance. Gabriel felt cold dread settle in his very soul. He ran through a thousand reasons why something might have gone wrong or why they might have been leaving him, but in the end, after about an hour of warring with himself… he knew the reason.

He was the dog sent into space. He was NASA’s little test to see if travel was safe and possible. They were leaving him behind. 

Gabriel cursed, he screamed, uncaring of how much oxygen he had left. He was going to die. He’d been left to rot on a world so far from home that Earth was practically a blimp in the distance. After everything he’d done in his life, this was how it was all going to end.

Alone.

Abandoned.

Why did the world despise him so-

“Hello!” Gabriel froze in his lamentations. He stood up from where he was seated on the ground sorrowfully regretting everything and looked around. There wasn’t a person, but there was… a rover?

“You look rather lost! Dad sent me out to see if I can help! Aunty is quite upset about this whole mess!” The rover was green, a rather bright hue. Its light glowed red, highly unusual. Gabriel didn’t recognize it, at least not at first. But soon enough, he began to remember the design. The rover was an old model, one of the ones sent out in the early 2000s. The paint was different, and last he recalled, the rover didn’t have any pre-recorded voice lines. But he knew this model, and it was clearly the one and only Spirit.

“Sheesh, you are going to run out of air at this rate! Let’s get you inside until Aunty can get Uncle Moon to send someone out to get you!” The rover rolled closer, prompting Gabriel to step back instinctually. He didn’t have time to run before the rover changed. Its wheels compacted, its entire frame contorted in a series of swift and smooth motion. In an instant, he found himself dwarfed by some type of robot, one which smiled down at him with bright red eyes, eager perhaps.  Gabriel knew for a fact NASA would have never let something like this rot out on Mars. It had to be something new, something strange and potentially dangerous.

“Oh hell no-!” He attempts to run, but the former rover grabbed him before he could and held him gently, almost like a precious stone. Gabriel was too startled to fight as the thing he knew to be Spirit quickly began walking with him in hand.

“Don’t be scared little guy! Dad will get this all sorted out!” Spirit smiled gleefully, its voice ringing out deeply but strangely like a child. Gabriel couldn’t speak, not as he saw more of the robotic beings approaching. There were seven others, and one by one, he noted their designs.

Sojourner, Marie Curie, Curiosity, Opportunity, the chinese model, and a few others. Each walked on two legs, each smiled, and each and every one of them regarded Gabriel with childlike interest. 

“Dad! We got him!” The rover held Gabriel up, grinning ear to ear, not that it had ears. Gabriel for his part screamed as the ground shifted like some sort of hangar bay, revealing a passage down into the very ground. He floundered as all the rovers walked into the passage, not at all afraid. Spirit soothed Gabriel with a few hushed words.

“Shh… Uncle Moon will send a drone to get you soon. You can stay with him and his colony until Auntie figures out how to get you back without trouble! So don’t worry Cousin! Everything is going to be alright!” Gabriel gawked as he was carried into the passage. He had no words, all he could do was stare in awe as something straight out of a sci-fi film played out before him.

—

“Mars, is he well?”

“Yes Earth, your explorer is safe. My little ones are keeping him company.”

“Good. Take care of him for me. I will try to reach out to Primus’s chosen to see if he might aid me.”

“Of course.”

[dat-physics-gal]

Love the radiator design, nice. Now i'm wondering how starfleet ships deal with that. Eh, it's probably possible to vent entropy into subspace somehow. Actually, maybe that's how the warp plasma works, its thermal expansion drives it around the ship and through the warp coils, which in turn do work on subspace, which cools the plasma again. The warp core provides the (radiant) heat to keep the plasma flowing, and the warp coils are propulsion and heat sink at the same time. That would make sense.

A modern Mellanoid Slime Worm spacecraft, the Ice Giants Explorer. Intended to launch in 2383, it ended up fast-tracked and launched under a completely different mission. It would have explored the four ice giants of the Zwo-Nmu system: Glarpi, Shpler, Euaua, and Flible, with a possible mission extension to distant, never-before-seen planet Schmidt. It's depicted here using its T.E.N.D.R.I.L. (Teleoperated extendible-node robotic interface limb) to deploy one of its many robotic probes to land on a small captured satellite of Shpler, S/2351 S2.

The spacecraft has two main propulsion systems, a fission-impulse drive and a pulsed warp engine. The fission-impulse drive are modified solid-core nuclear-thermal-rockets utilizing subspace field coils on the exhaust end similar to those utilized on starfleet impulse drives. However, the power generation for those impulse coils is provided by a fission reactor, instead of a fusion reactor. This results in approximately a doubling of the specific impulse of the engine while preserving thrust characteristics.

The pulsed warp engine uses a bank of high-density capacitors charged using the fission reactors, to provide short bursts of warp speed. Modern mellanoid transwarp coils can provide speeds of up to warp 5 on the new scale, but are bottlenecked by the power generation and storage rate. As such the pulsed warp drive technology is currently not usable for interstellar exploration, but it does allow for much faster intra-system manuevers. (The bright photon-wakes visible from many astronomical units away, and their associated radiation hazards, are considered an acceptable risk.)

[seat-safety-switch]

So-called motorcylists love to shove their beloved bikes away whenever there's a little bit of snow on the road. That's because motorcyclists are famously concerned with their public perception. They don't want to drive around town with wood screws run through their tires, shrieking profanities at stopped traffic before ripping a perfect 12 'o' clocker and driving across the iced-over multi-use-pathway, comfortable in their knowledge that the police will not and can not follow. Or it's because they don't have heated grips, and their handsies get cold.

Heated steering wheels are the single greatest innovation in cars in the last two hundred years. Unfortunately for me, they hadn't been installed into cars of the age I own. In the late 1970s, the newest innovation in steering wheel comfort was "maybe make them a little smaller, for the ladies." Seems like I was cursed to a lifetime of wondering if my thermostat was seized, freezing to death even through many layers of mittens and work gloves while waiting for the tow truck to arrive and clean up the commuters in front of me.

Of course, Plymouth also didn't equip this car with a lot of other modern features. For instance, liquid-cooled active speed laser and radar jamming was not available. Active pursuit drones pre-programmed with a seek-and-destroy order for all speed cameras were not yet on the market, unless you worked for the CIA. And also the good people of China had not figured out how to make $35 45-millimetre ball-bearing turbochargers capable of adding nearly four hundred horsepower to any engine strong enough to keep its guts on the inside when presented with one medium-sized jet engine's worth of boost. I had to add all those things myself.

Easy, right? Run some wires to a heating element on the steering wheel. There's just one complication: steering wheels turn. If I keep spinning the car left and right, eventually the wire will get tangled up and rip itself out, causing an electrical fire. Admittedly, that will also keep my hands warm, but the walk home after is inconvenient.

The original "engineers" who took a whisky-soaked gander at this car before slapping their secretaries on the ass had a solution, though. In every steering wheel, the horn button has the same problem. Unfortunately for me, the horn hasn't worked in this car since 1983, which complicated my attempts to reuse the wiring.

Ultimately, I came up with what a rocket scientist would call "a compromise." A pair of bolt cutters and a map to the local truck-supply warehouse's storage yard soon provided me with a nifty diesel-fired interior heater, a roaring flame that consumes all and produces enough heat to make toast from three feet away. Ratchet-strapped to the place where the passenger seat used to be, it will keep my fingers warm, as well as my feet and every other part of my body. Sure, it's inconvenient having to continually refill it with stolen farm diesel, and I could have run the exhaust pipe out of the cabin a better way than through the rust hole in the floor. Once you get that heated seat feeling, though, you simply can't go back. If you'll excuse me, I need to get going: if I don't get to work in the next five minutes, my boots will melt again.

[redcoralpot]

Can you do Daryl finding out reader is trans? Early season 4, perhaps? :3

Attentu - Daryl Dixon x FTM Reader

Your wish is my command!!

Warnings: Gore, murder, violence, blood, cussing, mentions of transphobia and death, and addictions.

Word Count: 2.6K

You eagerly join in on the medical supply run, despite the group's awful luck. A confession from Bob has you feeling quite guilty about a personal matter...

-

It was dead.

You threw the car battery to the side, sick of the luck your supply group had. Daryl was on the other side of the room, shuffling through drawers in an attempt to obtain the right part. For an auto repair shop, it was horribly disorganized.

“Got anything?” you called over, impatient.

A grin took over your face as he tossed the find at you, catching it in a firm grip, “Nah.”

The car was not in terrible shape, not really. Some rust here and there, with paint scratched off from long road adventures before the outbreak. Your father had a similar car when you were just a child, and he was insistent that he passed on his knowledge, despite your mother’s constant objections. It was not fit for someone like you; that your hands should never be calloused from the tough ground nor covered in grease, she said. He always ended up laughing in her face.

So as he would have it, the two of you got in all sorts of trouble. Hijacking cars, picking locks, prying cabinets open with a pocket knife; all things he said would come in handy one day. Daryl seemed like he had the same type of upbringing, all rough and tumble, and perhaps that’s what drew you to him. That, or he was just really damn good with surviving.

Daryl’s footsteps creaked as he led the way out of the building, shining his flashlight on any possible threats around. Someone had to, as you weren’t keen to look after Bob found an old walker stuck under a desk, ending that misery. It was the only one left. One by one, you circled out of the building, with Bob’s silent trepidation behind you as you arrived back at the car. Daryl opened its hood again, and you both set to work.

His voice was muffled around his cigarette, “You never told us about the group you were with, before.”

You glanced up as Bob replied, “Which one?”

“You know,” he continued, when Daryl gave him a look, “when you found me out on that road, I almost kept walking.”

“Why’s that?’

“I was done being a witness. It happened two times, two different groups.”

…

“I was the last one standing, like God intended for me to see it over and over; a curse,” he shook his head, pursing his lips, “but, when it’s just you out there with the quiet, I used to drink a bottle of just 'bout anything just so I could sleep at night.”

“The run to the big spot, I only did it for me.”

You froze, a jug of clear liquid still in your hands. Daryl took it from you, completely unfazed, and managed to get a swig out of it.

He licked his lips, “You gotta keep busy somehow.”

“No, I did it so I could get me a bottle, a bottle of anything. That’s what got Zack killed.”

“That’s bullshit,” Daryl peered at him, “why don’t you get in there and try the engine? Should be the red and green wires, it ain’t rocket science.”

Even as Bob walked away, you stayed silent. Your fingers burned as you rigged the working car battery back in, but never as much as your thoughts. The other man nudged you, urging you to take your hands off as the engine roared in front of you. He clapped his hands and brought them up to his mouth; a sharp whistle rang through the air. Bob’s alcohol troubles seemed to be forgotten by Daryl, since he gave you a rusty smile while you slammed down the hood.

“Nobody coulda’ known, and you ain’t gonna be standing alone. Not anymore,” he reassured Bob.

You huffed, swinging a few plastic bags of gas in the back seats, ducking to join them. Tyreese and Michonne got the rest and the three of you squeezed together with the luggage, closing the door. With that, you left the burdensome place behind.

The ride to the college was short, but Bob still parked a little ways out, and the group set off to walk the rest of the distance. You passed most of the buildings on campus; dull brick that plants jumped at the opportunity to outgrow after a year of inactivity.

“Looks like the building we want is up ahead,” Tyreese stated.

For the first time since Bob’s confession, you spoke, “Are we splitting up? We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“Is that safe?” Michonne questioned, and Daryl eyed you.

“I know I can cover myself, if I end up alone.”

The brunette scoffed, and you shifted a glare at him, “You know I can, too. You’ve seen me.”

“I think,” Bob uttered, “it’s a good idea.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, I’ll shoot if I run into any trouble. Meet me back at the car.”

Outside of the Learning Resource Center, you split from the group, sneaking close to the ground. You heard the rest shuffle in the opposite direction with a soft “C’mon, c’mon.”, and let out a shaky breath. Two pairs, then three pairs of footsteps faded away.

The lights of the wing flickered and let out fading sparks as you padded along, dust pillowing up from wherever you stepped. God, the outbreak sure did a number on this place. Shadows grew as abundantly as the plants, but never dulled the smears of blood along the walls, floor, and shattered glass. It cracked and snapped under you, somewhere behind you, and you hissed as you looked at the walls alongside you. There were several doorways leading to different rooms, most likely supply closets or classrooms. Carefully, you dipped yourself into the nearest doorway, a heavy feeling on your back. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest and your stomach had a sick pit of anxiety as you thumbed through the biggest drawers. There were plenty of jars, containers, and vials, but none of them had what you needed. You read all the labels once, twice, the text in messy handwriting or tiny fonts.

Testosterone, in its liquid form made for injections, should be a clear liquid. You knew that much from what your provider told you, and from your own studies. Any colored liquids, or any with particles floating inside, you discarded from your search immediately. You were taking too long, you started to think, or were you? You didn’t know if you were gone for ten or if you have been here for thirty.

Once again, you slid back into the trashed hallway, trying to make your way towards the next doorway. The only things you could hear were your quick breaths and a creak, most likely from the forgotten building. A set pattern was in your mind as you dove into the room, and the haze of adrenaline made it hard to think. Walkers, as the prison liked to call them, were not your biggest concern. Even before the outbreak, it was dangerous for you to step outside; to live your life. If you passed by the wrong person, your face would be on the hot topic of the community for the week after. Getting caught was not an option.

You blinked, trying to clear the thumping in your ears. The vial’s label looked like a foreign language, though you knew it wasn’t, so you peered closer at it. A gust of hot air hit your neck, and again. Hot air. This place was cold.

Your fingers scrambled for the knife at your side, it was there, wasn’t it? You slashed before you could think. Hair scratched your fingers; your knife dug into a warm crevice. The hot air turned into a raw, groaning noise. The hot air stopped. 

You pushed the body to the ground and your blade was released. The blood trickled hot down your wrist. Instead of the red you expected, it was a sludgy, filthy brown. It dripped in slow droplets on the floor beside your shoes. This was the first opportunity to look at the thing, and what a sight it was.

The knife had caved in a part of its skull, which itself was like a rotten, stomped on pumpkin. It oozed and dripped the same muck over the tile, muddying the disfigured face underneath. It made Osbourne’s stage trick look like simple child’s play to anyone who witnessed the act. Its eyes were still open; bulging out in that manic, hungry way only a madman got before the outbreak. You looked away from the mess, your breakfast seizing in your throat, and you busied yourself with getting more testosterone vials in your bag. The most important thing was that it was not human, not anymore.

Stuffing your full hand in your bag, you made a beeline for the doorway.

You should have learned your lesson.

A weight tumbled over you and knocked you to the floor, breathless. It screeched, rabid, like some sort of fucked up dog. If a dog hadn’t eaten for a month, that is. It stunk, too. It stunk so bad that you thought you might die from suffocation first.

It clawed at you, gnashing its yellow teeth. Your hands were pinned underneath the mass and you heard your knife land across the floor with a clang. This was going to be it. The end. It’s funny, isn’t it? Dying searching for your lifeline. You almost giggled at the irony.

The teeth were close to your neck, aiming to kill. To eat until you were nothing but an unrecognizable pile of flesh and bones. You had to do something, and soon. The only part of your body you could move were your legs, and you tensed them up. You were going to survive this, you were going to get back to that car. 

Three.

You struggled to prop your shoulder up, knocking the danger away from your neck. Its eyes were bloodshot and cloudy. As empty as a corpse.

Two.

The walker got more desperate to bite you, wiggling around harshly on top of you. You tried your best to keep your face far away from its own, but it successfully nipped the edge of your nose. This was going to hurt.

One.

Its final noise was a gurgling one, close to your ear. The weight flopped to your right side, stilling its frugal attempt to destroy you.

“You got yourself covered, huh,” a voice remarked.

You wheezed, “Christ.”

“What were you doin’?”

“Shit.”

Daryl stepped over you, pulling his arrow out of the corpse, “I’m serious.”

You finally got your legs under you, and the first thing you did was back a good distance away from him. There was no getting out of this, you both knew that Daryl would know if you lied to him. Yet, he was one of the last people in the prison you felt comfortable telling. Daryl was a classic redneck, with a bigot older brother and a taste for mysteriousness. There was so much you didn’t know about him, and the hair on the back of your neck stood up like a wildfire. You would have much rather told Carol or even Michonne, if you had to choose. 

“You know what Bob said.”

“Yeah,” he stated, “but you ain’t an alcoholic. I know that much.”

“I’m not, but that wasn’t the point. I only came on this run for one thing, and it isn’t medicine. It’s testosterone.”

“Why do you need that? You’re strong enough without that steroid shit.”

“I don’t get as much as you do naturally.”

“So a medical condition?”

“Kind of.”

“Even if it was, that don’t explain why you had to sneak away from the group to get it. What’re you hiding?”

“I’m transgender, Daryl. I wasn’t born a boy like you,” you murmured.

There was a parade of footsteps down the hallway, and Tyreese burst through the door, the others close behind. He looked spooked, with sweat dripping down his disheveled face. Michonne and, speaking of the devil, Bob looked no better off.

He exclaimed, “Jesus, there you two are. We gotta go, now.”

“What, why?”

“Walkers. Tons of ‘em. Let’s go!”

You gladly took this chance, shoving past Daryl to dart out into the hallway with the others. Everyone else was rushing, but it was a minute before you also heard footsteps behind you. The infected corpses swarmed the building, even though it wasn’t like that before, and it made you wonder what the hell released them. Your group ran up the stairs with walkers not too far behind, and those trapped banged on whatever surface they could reach. 

“There was a ledge near the fire escape,” Michonne hissed, “we can go through there.”

No one responded unless a quick nod could be considered one, and you were off. Michonne went first, then Tyreese, you, and finally Daryl. Your legs were shaking, and you paid Bob a glance. He tensed up, seemingly trying to gauge the distance, before jumping. He was barely right, and landed a little too close to the edge, teetering off. His arms flailed and an army of bodies from below swarmed up to grab his heavy bag. You rushed to catch him, attempting to pull the man up, but he refused to let his backpack go. 

Finally, you ripped both the man and his bag away from the grasp of the walkers, panting, “What the fuck were you doing? What’s in that bag that could possibly be so important?”

“He’s right.” Daryl took the bag from Bob, zipping it open.

Bob rushed to stop him, but it was too late. Daryl dropped the backpack as quick as he picked it up, and he seized Bob by the collar.

“If I ever catch you puttin’ a bottle before a need, I’ll feed you to the walkers myself. You hear me?”

You froze as Daryl let the shorter man down, pushing him as he did so. Everyone else shot him a disappointed look or a glare, and Michonne waved her hand. You were all to keep moving; the run was over, and on an especially sour note.

The group arrived back to the prison safe and sound, the most daring of injuries being bruises, or small cuts. Tyreese and Michonne left to do their own activities, while Bob left to lick his wounds. This retired Daryl and yourself alone, to an awkward silence. With nothing else to do, you picked at a particularly nasty cut on your forearm. It was starting to look infected.

You cleared your throat, “Do you have anything left in your bag?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I use some?”

“Nah.” Daryl tossed you his bag.

Carefully, you peeked inside. There wasn’t much left, some disinfectant spray and vials of a clear liquid. No, that couldn’t be, could it?

Testosterone. At least three good vials of it.

You raised them up to your face, not believing your eyes, “Daryl, where the hell did you get these?”

“Grabbed them from that drawer you found the others in,” he refused to make eye contact, “after you left.”

“Why?”

“You might’ve needed more than you got.”

That… meant a lot to you. You had expected him to at the very least ignore you, or even worse, disgusted by you. What were the chances he would grab extras for you, just in case? Instead of yelling or hitting or kicking you out of his life, Daryl did that. If you were being honest, this was one of the weirdest coming out stories to date, but nothing can really beat zombies being included.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Nah. I’m a little confused, though.”

“On the topic?”

Daryl sighed, “Yeah. Wasn’t educated that much.”

“Well, if you want, I could help with that.”

Just for a second, he looked you in the eyes. In that moment, you didn’t see hate, anger, or anything negative. Only a sharp, beautiful glimpse of curiosity.

“Yeah.”

-