Black thread [काला धागा]
A/N: A few days ago I saw this post and suddenly got this idea in my head. And then I stress wrote it today. In desi culture, a black thread or a ‘kala dhaga’ is worn around ankles, wrists, waists to ward off the evil eve. Personally in my house, kisd who get hurt too much have black threads tied around their ankles. It is believed that the black thread keeps away negative vibes.
Words: 1k
Warnings: A few swear words, a few words in hindi which are roughly explained in context (actual translations in the end), Clint keeps getting hurt.
Summary: Avengers Initiative’s latest recruitment Agent L/n witnesses her fellow avenger constantly getting hurt and decides to do something about it.
Clint sat on the couch by the fireplace in the avenger compound as he cleaned his arrows.
“Ow!” This exclamation of pain caused Agent L/n, newly recruited, who was buried nose deep into a book to look up.
“What’s wrong Clint?” She asked, a bit concerned about the reason of his anguish. Her mind went to the gunshot wounds he had acquired a few weeks ago on a mission and she prepared herself to take him to the medic bay in case there was something wrong with them.
“I poked myself with an arrow. It hurts.”
She let out a relieved sigh and offered to apply a bandage over it but got back to reading when he declined the offer.
She had only settled back again when an another cry of pain reached her ears. Startled because of the sudden sound of distress she looked up to see Clint sitting in a pool of tea, the teacup on his feet.
“Oh my god Clint!” She threw her book aside and got to him, got him up and took him into the kitchen to wash off the tea and asses the damage done.
“The tea cup was hot and it slipped my hand. Luckily I already had a sip. It tasted good. You’ve gotta teach me how you make it Y/n.” He said, still wincing.
Fortunately, the tea wasn’t too hot and he wasn’t burned. “Hmm. Sure. But are you sure you’re okay?” Y/n muttered, still apprehensive about his state, worried that his fall down a few steps earlier in the day had compromised his motor skills.
“I am fine.” He smiled, patted her shoulders and sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving a very confused and concerned Y/N behind.
“Fuck!” He wailed again. Apparently he had stubbed his toe on the kitchen counter.
Y/n shrugged and got back to her book. An hour later a very disgruntled looking Natasha huffed and sat on the couch Y/n was sitting on.
“Hey Nat. You look peeved. What’s wrong?” She said, as she heard her huff beside her.
“Oh it’s nothing unusual. Just Clint’s incessant complaining. That man has like 4 gunshot wounds but he is complaining about a papercut. He always does this! Somehow to him gunshot wounds are nothing compared to a papercut.” Nat grumbled. Y/n patted her shoulders wondering how often this happened.
She was about to get back to her book when another crash resonating through the kitchen reached their ears. Y/n had abandoned the idea of getting to read the book that had only begun to take an interesting turn.
“Ugh. That better not be you Clint or I am going to take your own arrow and push it so far your ass, you’ll be tasting it.” Natasha screeched and got up to chase the person who was the reason for the crash which was found out to really be Clint.
A few hours later Agent L/n was seen roaming around the Avengers compound, something that looked very similar to butter cookies tin in her hand.
“Cookies or sewing kit?” A familiar but unexpected voice startled her as she was peering into a room, probably searching for someone.
“Huh?” She uttered as she came face to face with a very amused Tony.
“Well as you may know agent L/n, even I am half Indian and I have had enough experiences in my life that have taught me that such tins” he said knocking the lid of the tin box “more often than not contain sewing kits.”
Y/n grinned and opened the tin to reveal a few needles and threads of various colours housed in an organized manner in the box. Tony groaned. “I was hoping it contained cookies. But it seems like you were searching for someone, yes?”
“Yes I am searching for Clint. Do you know where he is?”
“I may not. Last time I saw him, he was being chased by a very livid Natasha. I don’t even know if he is alive at this point or not.” This made Y/n roll her eyes.
“But why are you searching for him, sewing kit in hand?”
“Arre, have you seen that guy? He has hurt himself about 5 times in a span of few hours! Mujhe nahi pata wo insaan zinda kaise hai, sach mai.” She said, hindi leeched its way into her sentences showcasing her confusion and frustration. “So I’ve decided, mai uske pairon pe kala dhaga bandh dungi. Bhagwan hi bachae use.”
Tony nodded solemnly and pulled his shirt up to reveal a black thread tied around his waist. “My nani tied it the last time I paid her a visit. It has worn out now. I’ll have to renew it I guess.”
After conversing for a bit with tony about his grandmother, Y/n set out again on her conquest to find Clint, which she did soon.
He was sitting in the combat room, nursing his hand and sporting a black eye.
“Oh god, did Natasha hit you that bad, Barton?” she said as she settled to sit beside him.
“No. She just punched me in the face. It’s just this paper cut that’s bothering me.” He said putting his hand up and wincing as Y/n touched the finger trying to find where exactly he was cut.
“Ooh! That hurt.” He said pulling his hand back. Y/n rolled her eyes.
“Barton, raise your pants. Show me your ankles.” She demanded as she searched through the kit.
“I’ll have you know I am a married man with kids Agent L/n. please don’t do anything that shouldn’t be done to married men. Also what kind of a criminal are you? Storing needles in a cookie tin?”
She ignored his words and took out a roll of black thread.
“Your ankles, clint.” She said again and this time he complied.
“This is a black thread. Back at my home, black thread is tied on ankles, wrists, waists, necks or toes to ward off the evil eye, or to protect klutzes like you from killing yourselves.” She explained as she masterfully wound the black string around his ankle and put a knot. Satisfied with her work she looked up to see a grinning Clint.
“Let’s see if your black thread can save me from the hello kitty bandages my daughter will insist on putting on all my wounds.”
Agent L/n chuckled.
A/n : Translations:
1) Mujhe nahi pata wo insaan zinda kaise hai, sach mai.: Trust me, I don't understand how that person is still breathing.
2) mai uske pairon pe kala dhaga bandh dungi: Bhagwan hi bachae use: I’ll tie a black thread around his ankle. May got protect him.
3) nani: maternal grandmother
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