Work Text:
Joker was born without a mark.
Joker shakes with silent laughter as the storm outside rages on. His house is pitch black, illuminated only when lightning lights up the sky.
Joker remembers when everyone around him had a mark. Everyone saw him as a freak. It made sense to them that the Joker would have no mark, after all, everyone knew he'd die alone.
It made sense to Joker, too. He'd never planned on finding a soulmate. But then again, the Joker never followed any plans.
When he'd met Batsy, he knew he found his soulmate. Batsy created him after all.
Joker's laughter was getting louder an louder now, as he clutched his knife.
A few minutes later, a strike of lightning struck right next to his house making the Joker roar with laughter. The lightning had briefly illuminated his wrist, revealing deep bloody scratches that spelled out the name Batsy.
The Joker was born without a mark.
But it was okay, because he had made one.