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punchdrunkdoc · 1 year ago

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Part 3, Chapter 2

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 (maybe 4??) parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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PART 3

Chapter 2

Catching Ranieri’s eye was easy. So easy that Calina's low opinion of him sank even further.

A flash of her back in her very low cut dress was all it took to hook him on the end of her line. She wound him in further with a sultry smile and a lick of her lips, and landed her catch by crossing one long leg over the other as she perched on a stool at the makeshift bar.

Mere seconds later, he was shoving his mostly-empty champagne glass on the table next to him and heading straight for her.

As he crossed the packed ballroom, Calina could see why the tabloids favoured him, with his chiseled jaw and his artfully dishevelled hair (that he probably spent an hour moulding into place).

He was objectively handsome...but to her, he resembled nothing more than a wet, flopping, floundering fish.

Easily baited and caught.

Pathetic.

God, men like him were such comically superficial creatures. It wouldn’t matter to him if she was a noble-prize winning genius, or a simpleton with barely two brain cells to rub together, he would have crossed that room regardless.

All because of the way she looked.

No, not even that. He probably wouldn’t care much about the real Calina - the woman who barely wore make-up and did little more than pull a brush through her hair in the morning.

No, he wanted the living Barbie doll that she’d styled herself as tonight, with the extensions in her hair, and the fake eyelashes, and the contoured face. He wanted a trophy. A beautiful, sexy prize that he could parade around the room to prove he was the most virile alpha at this party.

“Buonasera bellissima,” he drawled, as he finally reached her. He rested one arm on the bar behind and crowded close, his powerful cologne saturating the air between them.

Calina's smile felt more like a grimace as she returned the greeting. But he didn’t seem to notice. His own smile just got wider when she answered him in Italian, and he launched off a series of questions about where she was from.

His smile dipped slightly as ‘Eliise’ revealed her Croatian heritage, but it wasn’t enough for him to lose interest completely - especially when Calina followed up her admission by running one manicured hand down his lapel.

The touch overrode his innate xenophobia, and Calina congratulated herself on her choice of cover-story. It was clear that Ranieri was interested in her tonight, but he wouldn’t be calling her tomorrow.

She was too beneath him - hot enough to want to fuck, but not the kind of girl he could bring home to his Grandfather.

Calina’s disgust with him grew, and it took all her skills and training to hide her contempt, especially as the conversation droned on. Although calling it a conversation was overselling it. A conversation implied a back-and-forth exchange of information.

This was more like a TED Talk.

It turned out Ranieri’s enquiry about where she was from was the extent of his curiosity about her. He asked her nothing more about herself, and just launched into a spiel about himself - his background, his business ventures, his recent vacation to the Maldives, the case of wine he’d just bought from Tuscany.

It was all him, him, him.

The quintessential narcissist.

Calina played along, fluttering her fake eyelashes, laughing where expected and generally hanging on to every word as if it was the most interesting thing she’d ever heard.

All the while, internally, she was rolling her eyes with distain, and thanking the God she didn’t believe in that she’d found Matt.

Over the years, she’d encountered a lot of men like Ranieri. So many that she’d started to believe those men were typical of the male species.

But then she’d met Matt.

Matt who cared what she thought. Matt, who was genuinely interested in her life and her passions and her goals. Who asked her questions and sought her opinion and saw her as a person, and not just a beautiful face and a good figure.

She still didn’t know if there were more Matts than Ranieris in the world. It didn’t matter. She was just thankful that she’d found her Matt.

And the stark contrast with the man in front of her just made her miss him all the more. But she pushed those feelings - and all thoughts of Matt - aside to concentrate on the task at hand.

Although it didn’t really require much concentration. If catching Ranieri’s attention had been easy, keeping him engaged in ‘conversation’ was simple…and persuading him to give her a private tour of his home was child’s play.

After one drink at the bar and barely a half an hour of talking, Ranieri was leading her by the hand through the milling crowd of guests and up the stairs to the ‘off limits’ area of the party.

But that’s when the difficult part of the mission began: avoiding Ranieri’s touch.

As they crossed the threshold of his bedroom, Calina felt his hand trail down her bare back and over her ass. She forced herself not to shy away from him as he squeezed her flesh, the 'caress' bordering on painful. But nor did she lean into it. She just deflected any further touches by crossing the room to admire the art work on the wall. “Is that a real Boticelli?” she asked in Italian.

“Of course its real,” he replied, sounding affronted by her question. “My family have been patrons to the arts for centuries.”

And now you’re a patron to a mind-controlling sociopath, Calina inwardly sneered.

Ranieri came up beside her as she studied the priceless painting. He ran a hand down her arm, his fingers grazing the outer slope of her breast as he did so. “You may not be built like a Boticelli woman, but you’re just as stunning.”

Calina couldn’t decide if that was a thinly-veiled complaint about her lack of curves, or just a terrible compliment. Either way, she pasted on a smile. “Thank you,” she simpered.

Ranieri’s hand continued its path back up her arm and over her shoulder. Then he stepped closer to whisper in her ear - spelling out in graphic detail all the ways he wanted to fuck her. Calina tuned him out, but was snapped back to the moment when he bent down to press his lips to the base of her neck. That kiss was a little too close to the spot behind her ear that Matt loved to lavish attention on.

Calina flinched away on instinct.

“You want to play the shy virgin?” Ranieri murmured, holding her in place with an arm around her waist. “I can get on board with that.”

Calina turned in his arms and placed a hand on his abdomen. The touch was low, simulating a lover’s caress - but it was a precaution, in case she had to push him away suddenly.

‘Whatever it takes’ had been her constant mantra over the past month. But there was a big, fat caveat to that statement. ‘Whatever’ did not include having sex with this man. It didn’t even include kissing him. She could barely stand the touch of his hands on her skin.

Matt had kissed that skin. He had touched it and stroked it and claimed every inch of it for himself - whether he knew it or not.

She belonged to him.

And this man didn’t get to sully that.

She kept a smiled in place as she held him at arms length. “I’m not playing shy. I just thought we’d have time for another drink first. Why rush a night we’ll both never forget?”

There was a spark of irritation in his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the real man - the one who wanted the world at his feet, and the women in it to know their place - before he pasted on his own smile. “Sure, bellissima. If you want a drink, I can get you a drink.”

He sauntered over to the tray of liquor bottles and glasses in the corner of the room and started pouring out two measures. Calina silently extracted the pre-filled syringe from her bag and approached him from behind.

“On the rocks, or-” Before he could finish his question, Calina popped the small needle into the vein in his neck and pressed down hard on the plunger.

“What the fuck!” he cried out.

Calina shoved her hand over his mouth and pushed him towards the bed in the centre of the room. The back of his knees connected with the mattress and he toppled onto the soft bedding…and was out like a light.

Calina checked his pulse - which beat strong and steady - and exhaled sharply in relief. According to Melina there was a risk of arrhythmia in 1% of people injected with this drug. But otherwise it was a safe concoction, designed to incapacitate a victim for around six hours, but leave them with memories of the missing time. The latter element was the crucial factor to prevent any suspicions from arising.

With that in mind, Calina fished out the small ear piece from her purse and fitted it in Ranieri’s ear. Then she texted Anya who was waiting in a nearby van.

Ready for transmission.

Within moments, the faint, tinny sound of Anya’s voice emerged from the device. The other Widow would spend the next hour audibly filling in the gaps for Ranieri’s subconscious, like a hypnotist planting suggestions. He would awake in the morning feeling refreshed after a wild and steamy night with ‘Eliise’ - minus the very real memory of being injected in the neck and manhandled across his room.

To complete the illusion, Calina stripped the unconscious man naked and stepped out of her underwear, leaving the scrap of fabric dangling from the bedpost like a souvenir.

Then she got to work.

———

6 days later…

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing out here?”

Calina sighed at the sound of Anya’s voice behind her. She’d thought she’d have a bit more time up here alone.

It wasn’t easy finding somewhere quiet in a house full of women, especially since she was now sharing her bedroom with Katya. They’d freed another two Widows while they were in Europe, and bed space was becoming tight in the mansion. Every room was now doubled up, and Calina felt like she was constantly tripping over people in the common areas. The lack of privacy was starting to drive her crazy.

Adding that to her conflicted feelings about what happened in Italy, her insomnia, and the fact that she missed Matt with an intensity she didn’t think was possible...it all meant that she really wasn’t much fun to be around these days.

So she’d escaped to the roof. It wasn’t quite the same as her rooftop retreat in New York, but the night sky overhead was pretty spectacular. Without the light pollution of Hell’s Kitchen, the stars were so much clearer and brighter.

But she’d give it all up in a heartbeat to be back in that polluted, concrete jungle with Matt.

“Just taking in the scenery,” Calina lied, not in the mood to explain her current emotional state.

Anya took a seat next to her, and glanced around at the view, as if trying to see the appeal. The lights of the nearby harbour twinkled in the distance and the moonlight shone off the still water in front of the house. It was nature at its most tranquil and serene.

But Anya was never much of a nature lover. She shook her head and glanced down at her tablet. “I’ve got something for you.”

Calina sat up straight. “From Ranieri’s laptop?”

The rest of the mission in Italy had gone off without a hitch. She’d cloned Ranieri’s phone, copied the hard drive of his computer and planted a tracking virus that Anya created, then slipped out of the party unnoticed with the stolen data.

Data that she hoped would justify having Ranieri’s slimy hands on her. “Please tell me you found a lead on Volkov,” she asked.

“I’m close to something,” Anya said. “Just checking a few things first. But that wasn’t what I wanted to show you.”

“What is it?”

“Melina got in touch about that serum from Daredevil that you wanted analysed. She sent through the list of components.”

“Oh,” Calina replied, struggling to hide her disappointment.

Anya tapped the screen a few times then passed Calina the device. “Here you go,” she said, getting to her feet again.

“You don’t need this?” Calina asked, holding up the tablet.

“No, that’s yours. Happy Birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“You sure?”

Calina laughed at the familiar joke. As far as she knew ‘Calina Balashova’ was her real name, but she had no idea where in Russia - or the former Soviet Union - she’d been born, or even when exactly.

The other Widows like her - the ones who’s identities had been scrubbed by the Red Room when they were stolen as infants - had decided to make a joke of it, rather than dwell on the cruelty of their situation.

Which meant every day was a potential birthday.

Calina scrolled through the list of compounds on the screen. While it wasn’t the lead she was hoping for, she was still grateful for something to do to keep her mind distracted. And if she could help Matt with his fear pheromone mystery, maybe that would go some way towards alleviating her guilt.

She’d managed to avoid kissing Ranieri last week, but she’d still allowed him to touch her, and place his lips on her skin, and whisper in her ear all the lurid, obscene things he wanted to do to her body-

Ugh!

Calina shuddered at the memory and tried to concentrate on Melina’s email. And half way down the list, she saw a chemical that gave her pause: Arsonium bromide.

It sounded familiar.

Where had she come across that term before?

She typed the name into Google and did a quick search on its properties and applications. She soon found an article describing the process of using Arsonium bromide and potassium carbonate to synthesise Navenone A - which she knew from her previous research was a type of fear pheromone secreted by sea slugs.

Was that how she knew about Arsonium bromide?

It nagged at her the rest of the night. As she grabbed a late snack from the kitchen, as she cleaned her face and changed into her pyjamas, and as she lay awake listening to Katya’s deep, slow breaths from the other side of the bed, her brain grappled with the problem.

Then it came to her.

She bolted upright in shock.

Katya woke instantly, going from deep sleep to a heightened state of alertness like a flick had been switched. “What is it? Are we under attack?”

Calina ignored her. “Holy shit,” she muttered, working through the implications of what she’d just remembered.

“Are you okay?” Katya asked. “Did you have another nightmare?”

“What? No. I’m fine, I’m just…I can’t believe it.”

“Can’t believe what?”

Calina shook her head in disbelief. “It’s connected, Katya. It’s all connected.”

———

The tapping noise was getting louder.

Or, more accurately, he was getting closer to its source.

Matt had first noticed the sound while on the roof of the green and red-brick building on 10th avenue. It was a simple, 5-storey apartment complex above a laundromat…and it also happened to be the exact geographical centre of Hell’s Kitchen. For that reason, it had become a regular stopping point for him while he was out on patrol. It acted like a base, a place where he could centre himself after rushing all over the city. He could pause for a few moments, slow his racing heart and regroup, then listen to what the night was telling him.

Tonight, crouched on the parapet of that roof, he'd tuned out the white noise of the city - the roar of engines, and the buzz of electricity and the chattering hum of thousands of voices and television sets and radios - and he'd scanned the soundwave for people in need, and for criminals up to no good.

But what he'd found instead was a faint, rhythmic tapping sound coming from the riverside.

It wasn’t the frantic rattle of someone trapped and looking for help; and whilst the pattern sounded like possible morse code, it didn’t have the structure of an SOS call. But it piqued his interest anyway.

And given that the city was otherwise quiet, he'd indulged his curiosity and followed the sound. He'd traversed the concrete canopy of the city, leaping between buildings and racing across rooftops, as he'd chased down the mysterious beacon.

Until he found himself approaching the car lot on Pier 90.

As he did so, the tapping got clearer, more distinct. It was the unmistakeable hollow, ringing sound of a steel pipe being struck in sequence.

Taaaap…tap.tap. Taaaap…tap.tap.

Dash…dot.dot. Dash…dot.dot.

Definitely Morse code. He just had no idea what it meant…or who the message was intended for.

But he knew where it was coming from: high up overhead.

Matt glanced up as he honed in on the source of the sound - the large industrial crane floating just off the pier. Halfway along the jib, Matt could make out the shape of a person sitting between the steel railings, their legs dangling in the air 100 feet above the river.

Matt’s stomach lurched at the thought of them jumping into the icy cold, fast moving water below.

Dash…dot.dot. Dash…dot.dot.

Maybe the morse code was a cry for help, or a final message…either way, he needed to get up to them - fast. He started quickly scaling the steel structure, trying to keep noise to a minimum in case he spooked them.

Dash…dot.dot. Dash…dot.dot.

The sound was so loud to him now, it reverberated in his chest. He could feel the vibrations of the metal through his gloved hands, and it seemed to travel through his bones. He crept along the jib, on the opposite side from the seated morse coder. A third of the way along, he paused and took a deep breath of the air, trying to gauge more about them, but the wind was blowing the wrong way.

He inched closer, then froze as the mystery person called out to him, “Took you long enough.”

The voice was full of humour and affection - and so intimately familiar to him.

Calina.

Matt scrambled over and along the jib then squeezed into the metal cage beside her. He grasped the hand that was resting on the steel railing. After a brief moment of hesitation, she adjusted the grip and laced her fingers through his. He brought their clasped hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss against the back of hers. “Wh-what are you doing here? What’s going on? And why are you here?”

He couldn’t hide the slight whine in his voice at the last question. But he wanted to know why was she was up in this crane, wedged into this small, uncomfortable space. Why couldn’t she be on the ground or an open rooftop, or the living room of his apartment, where he could crush her against him and hold her properly?

Where he could kiss her properly.

She laughed, the sound low and husky and tempting, and it just added to his frustration.

But at the same time…it made him happy.

The last time he’d heard from her - during that brief phone call over a week ago - she’d sounded so upset. He’d been tormented ever since, wondering what had happened to her and if she was still suffering.

It was such a relief to discover that she wasn’t.

“I’m waiting for my ride,” she answered cryptically.

Matt pretended to look around at the vast sky above and the churning water far below. “Who’s your ride? Iron Man?”

She laughed again, and he leaned into the sound. Part of him just wanted to sit here with her and bask in her presence. To hold her hand and listen to her breathe and swim in her scent. But he had far too many questions. He wanted to know everything - what she’d been up to, and where she’d been, and what had happened a week ago.

And when this would all be over and she could come home.

But he started with the most pressing issue. “How long can you stay?”

She sighed. “Not long. I wasn’t kidding about waiting for a ride. They’ll be here soon - the Widows, not the Avengers.”

“Why didn’t you come find me?”

“There wasn’t time. I hitched a ride to New York with some of my sisters - they’re chasing a lead over in Jersey, and they’re picking me up when they’re done.” She bumped her shoulder against his. “But I knew you’d be out here somewhere. I just had to lead you to me.” She tapped her wrist against the metal beam in front of her in the now-familiar code.

Dash…dot.dot. Dash…dot.dot.

“D.D. For Daredevil,” she translated. “I would have gone for ‘M.M.’, but I didn’t want to blow your cover.”

He smiled. “I appreciate it.”

He moved his hand up to inspect her wrist, trying to figure out what she was banging against the metal frame. It felt like a bulky watch strap loaded with slim cartridges. “Your Widow’s bites?"

“Yeah.”

He ran his hand up her arm - as far as he could in the cramped space - and felt the thick neoprene of her suit. “So you’re a Widow tonight.”

“I’m a Widow every night, Matt. It’s who I am.”

The teasing tone in her voice disappeared, and was replaced with hints of bitterness and resignation. He rephrased his question. “I just meant, you’re out on mission tonight.”

She shrugged. “I’m backup, in case they run into trouble.”

“The lead they’re chasing - is it to do with Volkov?”

“Hopefully. We’re following up on some intel we got hold of last week.”

“Last week…when you called me?”

———

Matt’s voice was soft, gentle…and so full of concern that it made Calina’s heart ache. She bit her lip and nodded.

“I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

Her teeth pressed painfully into her lip as she warred with her conscience. She wanted to tell him about Italy, and the mission with Ranieri. She didn’t want to keep secrets from him…but she wasn’t sure how the truth would make him feel.

He already had to put up with so much by being with her. Not least this separation between them, and the uncertainty of never knowing how or when they could be together again. She didn’t want to add to it by admitting that she’d had another man’s hands on her.

And she didn’t want to keep reminding him of who she used to be. Who she still had to be, while she hunted for Volkov. She didn’t want that part of her life to infect what they had together.

She was so scared that he would wake up one day and decide she wasn’t worth it.

“Hey.” She felt his thumb brush her lip as he tried to free it from the vice of her teeth. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Just tell me you’re okay now.”

She took the 'out' he offered, glad that she didn’t have to actively lie to him. Again. “I’m as good as can be,” she replied truthfully. “I just want this to be over. I- I miss you.” She stuttered over the words, still so new to this. Still so unsure of this wonderful, delicate thing between them.

Matt showed no such hesitation. “I miss you too, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

God, she’d never get enough of hearing that - even as the affection in his voice tore at her.

She’d been spiralling with shame and guilt over the past week, and she thought seeing Matt in person would help alleviate some of those feelings. That a brief moment of being with him again would remind her of why she’d gone through with that mission in the first place - it was all so that she could find her way back to him.

But it wasn’t working.

Looking into his beautiful brown eyes, so open and full of love, the guilt just amplified within her.

She needed to get out of here. She couldn’t bear to be around him while feeling this way. She glanced at her phone. Luckily, there’d been another text from Katya in the few minutes since Matt had arrived:

On our way.

She suppressed her sigh of relief and updated Matt. “I have to go soon. But I have something for you.”

“Is it the co-ordinates to your new base with a key to the front door?”

She handed him the USB stick she’d stashed in her belt. “No, but it’s a pretty good consolation prize.”

He took the device. “What’s is it?”

“The component list of the fear pheromone. And a few other things related to the case.” She’d been so excited to share her breakthrough with him - it was the reason she’d begged to come along on this trip - but now she couldn’t seem to muster any enthusiasm to talk about chemicals and nefarious plots.

Matt didn’t seem to mind the lack of explanation. He just tightened his hold on her hand and leaned against her as much as the metal pole between them would allow while they waited for Katya and the other Widows.

Minutes later, the roar of an engine cut through the noise of the wind howling around them. Calina glanced down and spotted the speedboat racing in their direction.

“I take it that’s your ride,” Matt said.

She nodded, and let go of Matt’s hand. She used the beam above her head to pull herself to her feet and manoeuvre onto the outside of the jib. She clipped herself to the metal frame with the carabiner on her belt and checked the position of the boat below - it was now idling directly beneath her, just as planned.

The lights on the boat flashed as if to hurry her up, but Calina paused to look at Matt. He’d joined her on the outside of the railing, with nothing securing him in place but the grip of his gloved hand. He looked so strong and invincible up here, the lights of his beloved city framing him in silhouette as he balanced with ease on the swaying platform, 100 feet in the air.

A daredevil to the core.

God, she loved him so much.

“I guess this is it,” she said, her voice wavering. As much as she needed to get away from him, she hated the thought of yet another goodbye.

To make it as quick as possible, she leaned forward and kissed him on the chin, the highest point she could reach given the awkward angle. “See you soon,” she promised.

Then she jumped.

———

Matt watched Calina fall through the air, the cable connecting her to the crane whirring loudly as it unspooled from her belt. Seconds later she was barely more than a speck below him as she jerked to a stop. She disconnected from the lifeline and landed safely in the boat deck.

Matt exhaled sharply in relief. His friends had complained for years about having to watch him execute dangerous, gravity-defying stunts - and he finally knew what that felt like.

It was horrible.

But that new-found empathy didn’t stop him from following Calina down the 100-foot drop. Without a second thought, he grabbed hold of the cable still connecting to the crane, jumped off the metal ledge and started to slide down.

He used his boots and gloves to try to control his descent, but they only helped so much - the wind still whistled past him as he hurtled through the air at speed. Within moments he was on the deck, landing in a crouch on one knee to absorb some of the impact. He felt the jolt through his worn joints, and knew he would feel it tomorrow.

But it was a small price to pay. He stood up, spun a startled-looking Calina towards him and took her in his arms. “You call that a goodbye?”

Then he tipped her back and kissed her.

It was a deep kiss. A desperate kiss.

He’d felt a…distance…between them up on that crane and it had scared him. So he poured everything into the kiss. He fuelled it with weeks of loneliness and torment, and laced it with every drop of love and passion that he felt for her.

He held her firmly against him with one hand at the back of her head, and his other clamped her around the waist, as if to stop her from disappearing. But she didn’t seem to want to go anywhere. Relief flooded Matt’s system as Calina returned the embrace just as fiercely, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck and one leg coming up to hook around his thigh.

They kissed and kissed, oblivious to the icy wind on their cheeks and the rocking of the boat underfoot as it sped across the water...and the hooting and cheering from the other Widows onboard.

Although, eventually, that last noise seemed to penetrate Calina’s senses. She broke the kiss and ducked her head, and he could feel the heat radiate from her blushing cheeks. He stroked his hand over her braided hair and leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of her head.

She looked up at him and shook her head. “What were you thinking?” She didn’t sound angry at his reckless abseil through the air - just a bit exasperated.

He shrugged. “It was your fault for leaving me hanging like that. So to speak.”

She squeezed him around the waist. “You’re crazy.”

He shrugged again. “Must be.”

The lights of the city were a blur as the speedboat travelled further down the river. Whoever was captaining this little ship didn’t seem inclined to slow down and drop him off on the shore. And he couldn’t blame them - he’d gatecrashed their choreographed escape, after all.

So he reluctantly broke away from Calina and grabbed his billy club out of its holster. He stroked a finger down Calina’s cheek and with a final, “Bye, sweetheart,” he launched one end of the baton up into the air. It caught on the low bridge they were passing under and he swung up behind it, off the boat and onto the walkway above.

“Show off!” he heard Calina call, her teasing voice echoing off the underpass.

He laughed in response as he jogged to the other side of the bridge. He watched the boat travel further away from him, a sole figure on the deck waving as it disappeared into the night.

It reminded him of the beginning of all this. Of watching Calina from afar as she stood on their rooftop all those months ago.

Back then, she’d been an intriguing mystery. A beautiful distraction from the darkness in his life. And while part of him had known there was something life-altering about their connection, he could never have imagined how vital she’d become to him. How much he’d grow to love and need her.

She was still intriguing. Even more beautiful and, in some ways, just as mysterious.

But now she was his.

And he was hers.

————–

What's all connected? What lead are the Widows following up in Jersey?

Find out in Chapter 3

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @yanna-banana @chezagnes @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy

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#daredevil #daredevil fic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock #daredevil x original female character #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc

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brookstonalmanac · 5 months ago

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Holidays 6.18

Holidays

Academy Day (Scientology)

Autistic Pride Day

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Clean Your Aquarium Day

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Foundation Day (Benguet, Philippines)

Go Fishing Day

Hand Cart Day (French Republic)

Horned Poppy Day

Human Rights Day (Azerbaijan)

International Day for Countering Hate Speech

International Declaration of Human Rights Day

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Mela Khir Bhawani (Kashmir, India)

National Black America’s Day of Repentance

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Queen Mother’s Day (Cambodia)

618 Day

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Tabasco Day (Mali)

Trouser Day

Veterinary Appreciation Day (a.k.a. Veterinarian Appreciation Day)

Waterloo Day (UK)

Wild Den Dancing Day

World Day Against Incarceration

World Wide Knit in Public Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Insalata Day (Italy)

International Picnic Day

International Sushi Day

National Cheesemaker’s Day

National Cherry Tart Day

Independence & Related Days

Aldrodnia (Declared; 2018) [unrecognized]

Bacolod City Charter Day (Philippines)

Constitution Day (Seychelles)

Egypt (a.k.a. Eid el-Galaa, evacuation of foreign troops, 1954)

Flinders (Declared; 2022) [unrecognized]

Jailavera (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]

Leprechia (Declared; 2021) [unrecognized]

Naga City Charter Day (Philippines)

Onontakeka (Declared; 2018) [unrecognized]

Snagov (Declared; 2020) [unrecognized]

3rd Tuesday in June

National Accounts Payable Appreciation Day [3rd Tuesday]

National Cherry Tart Day [3rd Tuesday]

Royal Ascot begins (UK) [3rd Tuesday]

Taco Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Weekly Holidays beginning June 18 (3rd Full Week)

National Water Safety Week (Ireland) [thru 6.25]

Royal Ascot (thru 6.22)

Festivals Beginning June 18, 2024

Marysville Strawberry Festival (Marysville, Washington) [thru 6.23]

RMA Convention (Maui, Hawaii) [thru 6.21]

Taste of Little Italy (San Diego, California) [thru 6.19]

Feast Days

Amandus, Bishop of Bordeaux (Christian; Saint)

Andim Day (Pastafarian)

Bernard Mizeki (Anglican and Episcopal Church)

Chris Van Allsburg (Artology)

Elisabeth of Schönau (Christian; Saint)

Elvis Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Ephraem (Christian; Saint)

Erik Ortvad (Artology)

Festival of Anna (Ancient Rome; Everyday Wicca)

Going Forth of Neith Along the River (Ancient Egypt’ Goddess of War and Hunting)

Gregorio Barbarigo (Christian; Saint)

Gregory of Fragalata (Christian; Saint)

Into Raymi Festival begins (Inca Sun Worship Festival; until 24th)

James Montgomery Flagg (Artology)

John Bellany (Artology)

Joseph-Marie Vien (Artology)

Leontius, Hypatius and Theodulus (Christian; Saints)

Leroy (Muppetism)

Marina the Monk (Maronite Church, Coptic Orthodox Church of Alexandria)

Mark and Marcellian (Christian; Martyrs)

Media Ver XI (Pagan)

National Splurge Day (Church of the SubGenius)

Now Panic Day (Pastafarian)

Osanna Andreasi (Christian; Saint)

Theodoric the Great (Positivist; Saint)

Three Lasting Things of Cormac Mac Art: Grass, Copper and Yew (Celtic Book of Days)

Tiger-Get-By’s Birthday (Shamanism)

Islamic Lunar Holidays

Eid al-Adha, Day 3 [Muslim Feast of Sacrifice] (a.k.a. ...

Al Adha (Bahrain)

Corban Bairam (Sudan)

Eid al Adha (Iraq, Jordan, Kuwait, Oman, Pakistan, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Syria, West Bank and Gaza, Yemen)

Eid e-Ghorban

Eid ul-Ad’haa (Maldives)

Feast of Sacrifice (Uzbekistan)

Gurban Bayram (Azerbaijan)

Hari Arafat (Malaysia)

Hari Raya Qurban (Malaysia)

Id el Kabir (Nigeria)

Kurban Bayram (North Cyprus)

Kurban Bayramy (Turkey)

Qurbon Hayit (Uzbekistan)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Unfortunate Day (Pagan) [36 of 57]

Premieres

The Adventures of Ellery Queen (Radio Series; 1939)

The Bully (Ub Iwerks Flip the Frog Cartoon; 1932)

Casey Bats Again (Disney Cartoon; 1954)

Dangerous When Wet (Film; 1953)

Dare To Be Stupid, by Weird Al Yankovic (Album; 1985)

Day & Night (Pixar Cartoon; 2010)

Der Freischütz (or The Marksman), by Carl Maria von Weber (Opera; 1821)

DodgeBall (Film: 2004)

(Everything I Do) I Do It For You, by Bryan Adams (Song; 1991)

Eyes in Outer Space (Disney Cartoon; 1959)

Goodbye Cruel World, by Elvis Costello (Album; 1984)

The House with a Clock in Its Walls, by John Bellairs (Novel; 1973)

Howard Zinn: You Can’t Be Neutral on a Moving Train (Documentary Film; 2004)

Ice Station Zebra, by Alistair MacLean (Novel; 1963)

An Ideal Husband (Film; 1999)

Inside, Outside, by Herman Wouk (History Book; 1985)

Lady and the Lamp (Disney Cartoon; 1979)

Last Action Hero (Film; 1993)

Le Marteau sans Maître, by Pierre Boulez (Chamber Cantata; 1955)

Luca (Animated Film; 2021)

Morning, Noon and Nightclub (Fleischer Popeye Cartoon; 1937)

My Cousin Rachel, by Daphne du Maurier (Novel; 1952)

The Ocean at the End of the Lane, by Neil Gaiman (Novel; 2013)

Odelay, by Beck (Album; 1996)

Once Upon a Forest (Hanna-Barbera Animated Film; 1993)

Origin of Symmetry, by Muse (Album; 2001)

Polar Fright (Chilly Willy Cartoon; 1966)

Popeye Meets Hercules (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1948)

The Sparks Brothers (Documentary Film; 2021)

Suppressed Duck (WB LT Cartoon; 1965)

Tarzan (Animated Disney Film; 1999)

Toy Story 3 (Animated Pixar Film; 2010)

The Underground World (Fleischer Cartoon; 1943) [#16]

The Wild Bunch (Film; 1969)

Wouldn’t It Be Nice, by The Beach Boys (Song; 1966)

Today’s Name Days

Elisabeth, Ilsa, Marina (Austria)

Asen, Chavdar (Bulgaria)

Elizabeta, Marcel, Ozana, Paul (Croatia)

Milan (Czech Republic)

Leontius (Denmark)

Auli, Aurelia, Auri, Reeli, Reelika, Reili (Estonia)

Tapio (Finland)

Léonce (France)

Elisabeth, Ilsa, Isabella, Marina (Germany)

Erasmos, Leontios (Greece)

Arnold, Levente (Hungary)

Gregorio, Marina, Marinella, Marinetta (Italy)

Alberts, Madis (Latvia)

Arnulfas, Ginbutas, Marina, Vaiva (Lithuania)

Bjarne, Bjørn (Norway)

Efrem, Elżbieta, Gerwazy, Leonia, Marek, Marina, Paula (Poland)

Ipatie, Leontie, Teodul (România)

Vratislav (Slovakia)

Marcelino, Marcos (Spain)

Bjarne, Björn (Sweden)

Leo, Leon (Ukraine)

Effie, Efrain, Eph, Ephraim, Marina, Marnie, Nevaeh (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 170 of 2024; 196 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 2 of week 25 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Duir (Oak) [Day 10 of 28]

Chinese: Month 5 (Geng-Wu), Day 13 (Gui-Chou)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 12 Sivan 5784

Islamic: 11 Dhu al-Hijjah 1445

J Cal: 20 Blue; Sixday [20 of 30]

Julian: 5 June 2024

Moon: 88%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 1 Charlemagne (7th Month) [Theodoric the Great]

Runic Half Month: Dag (Day) [Day 10 of 15]

Season: Spring (Day 92 of 92)

Week: 3rd Full Week of June)

Zodiac: Gemini (Day 29 of 31)

Calendar Changes

Charlemagne (Feudal Civilization) [Month 7 of 13; Positivist]

#Holidays

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