A/N: Everyone seems to have an opinion on how The Joker got his scars, and this is my responce to them.
The Reason and Excuse
There was an image staring back at him, reflected in a cracked mirror. Between the smudges of slime and freckles of blood, his eyes, once bright green but now darkened by bloodlust, blinked slowly. A pink tongue flicked from his mouth to feel the soft texture that lay on both sides, which humanized him from beneath the make-up.
They told of a man beneath the demon, and whispered to the world that he was just like everyone else; Just one man after a bad day.
Those scars were his freedom. To the world they were the reason why he did all that he did. He played the victim, watched the horror and sympathy in the eyes of others as he spun lies that tasted as sweet as cotton candy in his mouth. No one questioned what they heard; the words he placed in the darkest corners of their mind. They were afraid to aggravate him by poking the wounds of an obviously traumatic past. So, instead, they stood frozen in terror.
Each tale was told carefully, painting himself as a victim, as someone to be pitied; the child of an abusive father, a caring and concerned lover, a young boy bullied and unable to defend himself. It was a deliberate attempt to play their weaknesses, to make them believe that his gruesome smile was the physical reflection of a scared soul. And that neither could ever heal.
The Joker smiled, the corners of his lips pulling his tickets to insanity. He brought his hand to his face and scrapped his yellowed nails down his cheek, peeling back the prosthetics. The glue pulled but left his skin smooth and untouched.
He didn't need a reason to do what he did, but it sure was useful.