To live as an assassin, there were many personal sacrifices that one had to make, but at the end of the day it came down to two simple things.
The first, do not, under any circumstance, become emotionally attached to anything. No humans, no animals, no inanimate objects. Everyone would die eventually, everything would be destroyed with time.
The second was even more important than the first. Quite simply, do not be recognisable by something permanent. Hair colours could change, contacts could be swapped, clothes could be replaced, but scars and tattoos can't. Stay a blank canvas, adaptable to circumstance.
That was why Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton's choices were so peculiar.
They met long before any government agencies were tracking them, long before other mercenaries were whispering about them. They had been mere kids, forced to do others' bidding. They had bonded quickly, spending days on end exploring the world together. They would be ripped away, but like magnets, they found their way back to each other.
Natasha had seen Clint perform in the circus, and he had been to her ballet recitals. When they got older and their missions spanned across the world, they set up safe houses and stayed together when their paths crossed. When they became freelance, they worked together and protected each other. When Clint joined the army, Natasha encouraged him and was present at all ceremonies. When Natasha wanted to dance again, Clint brought a piano and played so she could. When S.H.I.E.L.D came around, they couldn't work with anybody else. They were S.T.R.I.K.E team: Delta, six people short of your average S.T.R.I.K.E team, yet they were the most successful team on missions. When Nicholas Fury and Drew Lanning formed a team made up of government agents from all over the world, it was no surprise that Natasha and Clint were a package deal.
There was nothing they did apart, should they have the choice, and tattoos were no exception.
They were around sixteen when they decided to break the second rule, as the first rule had long since been destroyed in terms of their relationship. It was not a spur of the moment decision, nor one that they took lightly. They discussed it for weeks, weighing up the pros and cons and deciding that, provided the chose the right placement, it was worth the risk.
The next time they crossed a tattoo parlour, they were in Spain. The shop looked a little dodgy, but it proved to be useful as nobody asked to look at identification for age verification. Clint went first, getting an arrow etched on his back, the word 'dauntless' written in block letters to form the shaft. It ran from a few inches below the nape of his neck to the bottom of his shoulder blades. It was the easiest place to cover that still looked decent, and it worked out quite well.
Natasha shocked the artist when it was her turn, not even flinching when the needle pierced her skin. Apparently he had expected Clint to be unaffected, but he thought a young, delicate girl would at least wince. She had the same word marked on her hip, written in a delicate font and positioned so that it would be hidden by her clothing, provided she wasn't careless. Like Clint, Natasha added her own touch to the word, but opted out of her weapons of choice. Instead, she chose to have a small, simple outline of an elephant next the last letter.
Clint later told Natasha that he chose an arrow not because it was his weapon of choice, but because of the metaphor it presented. An arrow goes back before it goes forward, and that was something that Clint could relate to. For every bad thing that happened in his life, he had to remember the good. Natasha in turn, revealed that she had chosen an elephant because, to her, they were an immensely strong creature with admirable loyalty and dedication, three things she held a great respect for and strived to be every day.
Natasha and Clint may have broken both rules with very little hesitation, neither regretted their choices for a second as they both got to live a proper life, rather than the alternative of living in isolation until they met their demise.
I own absolutely nothing... Not even the computer I'm typing on.