EDWARD NIGMA X (GN) READER
[Fluff oneshot]
Summary: You get moved into Ed's room after an incident with your previous roommate. You dont really like him at first, but as time goes on, you start warming up to him, as he starts warming up to you also. Then soon, you two start to realise you have more in common than you think, and your relationship starts to blossom into something more gentle and caring.
I also wrote this about arkham Edward, but you can also interpret this as gotham Ed, or other variations of him, if you wish :P
Word count: 2430
While you were at Arkham, you shared a cell with some other crazy inmate.
You didnt know her name, however because of her, you had to be moved into a different block.
She had pretened to be ill and a guard came in; spoiler, she was obviously not sick at all, physically anyways...
The poor guard got beaten black and blue, and your shared room got absolutely destroyed.
After that incident, the warden at the time moved you to a different part of the asylum with a new roommate.
Hopefully he wont be as bad as the one you'd previously had.
-A FEW HOURS LATER-
“This is temporary,” the guard had said, unlocking the reinforced door with a bored expression. “Try not to kill each other will ya? Already got enough shit to deal with here."
Then he shoved you inside.
The door slammed shut behind you with a heavy, final clang.
Then, you felt it; eyes on you.
You turned slowly. Half hoping that whoever it was wasn't some cannibal or someone who has a thing for...harassing women.
Edward Nigma sat on the edge of his bed, posture perfectly straight, fingers steepled beneath his chin. He didn’t look surprised. If anything, he looked… interested.
Like you were a problem he’d been hoping to receive.
“Well,” he said at last, voice smooth, and measured. “They’ve finally given me something new to occupy my mind.”
You frowned slightly. “I’m not here for your entertainment.”
“Oh, but everything is,” he replied lightly, tilting his head. “The question is whether you’ll be worth the time.”
You rolled your eyes and moved to the opposite side of the room, dropping your things onto the spare bed. “Been here barely five minutes and you’re already insufferable.”
“And you’re predictable,” he shot back immediately. “Dismissive tone, defensive posture, refusal to engage. A classic opening move.”
You paused, glancing at him. He certainly has a way with words..
He was watching you like he already knew the next five things you were going to do.
It was..irritating to say the least.
“Do you ever stop analysing people? ” you asked.
"You've been staring at me all morning.."
“Do you ever start being interesting?” he countered.
You scoffed and turned away.
That should’ve been the end of it.
You should've just ignored him for as long as they'd keep you there with him.
Although you didn't.
Living with Edward Nigma was like living with a storm that refused to break.
His mood swings were certainly something as well..
He filled the room with energy; sharp, restless, and constant. Even when he was sitting still, his mind was clearly racing, eyes flicking across invisible patterns, fingers tapping out silent equations against his knee.
And the riddles? God, the fucking riddles.
They almost drove you to insanity honestly.
If it was once a day or twice, you wouldn't mind honestly, but with this guy? It was a constant thing, and you couldn't take it anymore!
“At night they come without being fetched,” he said one evening, not even looking up from the scrap of paper he was scribbling on. “And by day they are lost without being stolen. What am I describing?”
You didn’t respond.
He sighed dramatically. “Really? Not even an attempt?”
“I’m not playing your games,” you muttered.
“They’re not games,” he said, finally glancing at you. “They’re tests.”
“Of what?”
He smiled slightly. “That depends on whether you pass.”
You ignored him.
At least, you tried to.
Edward had a way of getting under your skin, not by force, but by persistence. He didn’t stop. Didn’t get bored. Didn’t move on.
He just…waited? Watched. Then learned.
“You’re not like the others.”
The words caught you off guard.
It had been a few days, maybe longer. Time blurred in Arkham. The lights never changed, and sleep came in fragments.
You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Edward was leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, studying you.
“It means,” he said slowly, “you haven’t tried to manipulate me, threaten me, or impress me.”
“Should I?” you asked dryly, as you sketched an image with your charcoal.
He considered that.
“…You could try.” You could feel his eyes on you now.
You snorted. “I’d rather not waste my time.”
Something flickered in his expression; brief, but noticeable.
You looked up at his pale eyes for a moment.
There was the faintest look of interest.
“See?” he said, almost to himself. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
Your eyes narrowed. “You’re weird.” you laughed.
“And you’re different,” he replied. “Which, in this place, is far more valuable.”
You didn’t know how to respond to that.
So you didn’t respond at all.
-A few days later-
It changed slowly. You didn’t notice it at first, but one day, you found yourself answering one of his riddles; half-heartedly, just to shut him up.
“Stars,” you muttered. “The answer is stars.”
Edward went very still. Then his thin lips spread into a smile.
Not the usual smug, self-satisfied grin.
It was something softer.
Which surprised you, understandably.
“…Correct.”
You blinked. “Don’t make it a big deal.”
“But it is a big deal,” he said, sitting up straighter. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since someone here has actually engaged with me on an intellectual level?”
“Probably because you’re annoying,” you said.
“Or because they’re incapable,” he countered.
You rolled your eyes again, but there was less bite to it this time.
Then after that…it became a habit for you.
“Forward I am heavy, but backward I am not. What am I?”
“…Ton.”
“Correct.”
“What gets wetter the more it dries?”
“A towel.”
“Good. Very good.”
“What has keys but can’t open locks?”
You hesitated.
“…A piano?”
Edward’s grin widened. “You’re learning.”
Somewhere along the way, the conversations shifted.
Less testing. More talking.
You learned that Edward hated being underestimated more than anything. That he remembered everything; every slight, every failure, every moment he wasn’t recognised for his brilliance.
He learned that you didn’t trust easily. That you preferred silence to pointless noise. That you’d seen enough of the world to stop expecting much from it.
“You’re cynical,” he said one night.
“You’re arrogant,” you replied.
He tilted his head. “And yet, here we are.”
“Yeah,” you muttered. “Here we are.”
It happened during one of the bad nights.
Arkham had those a lot.
The kind where the noise got louder. The walls felt closer. The air heavier.
You sat on your bed, staring at nothing, trying to keep your breathing steady.
You didn’t notice Edward watching you at first.
“…You’re distressed.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” he said calmly.
You clenched your jaw. “Drop it.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he stood and walked over slowly, deliberately, like approaching something fragile.
You tensed and your brows furrowed.
“Don’t—”
“Answer me this,” he said suddenly.
You blinked. “What?”
His voice softened; just slightly.
“What runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks?”
You stared at him blankly.
“Again..what?” you ask puzzled.
“Just answer.”
You hesitated.
“…A river?”
“Yes.”
He nodded once.
“Good. Focus on that.” his voice whispered.
You frowned. “On what?”
“The process,” he said. “The logic. The solution.”
Your breathing hitched slightly.
He crouched down in front of you, Blue eyes sharp but steady.
“When your mind spirals,” he continued, “give it something structured. Something solvable.”
You swallowed.
“…You’re giving me riddles to calm me down?”
“I’m giving you control,” he corrected.
There was a pause.
“…Give me another one.” you said reluctantly.
After that event, you noticed that Edward was warming up to you so to speak.
He started sitting closer to you.
Glancing at you more, admiring you.
His tone softened too; only with you.
Then you stopped pushing him away as much
“You trust me.” He spoke, not questioning for once.
You looked up from where you were lying on your bed. “What makes you think that?”
“You sleep,” he said simply.
You frowned. “So?”
“You sleep deeply,” he clarified. “In the same room as me.”
“Still don't get how that means I trust you?”
He leaned back against the wall, watching you.
“You wouldn’t do that if you thought I was a threat.”
You opened your mouth to argue. Then stopped.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
“…Don’t read too much into it Nigma,” you muttered.
“Oh, but I always read into things my dear,” he said lightly, grinning at you.
“Yeah, I noticed.” you smiled back at him, laughing under your breath.
The more weeks that went by the more comfortable you got staying with Edward.
You were sitting side by side on the floor, backs against the wall. It wasn’t unusual anymore. Just…something you two now did.
Edward was mid-sentence(something about pattern recognition)when he stopped.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m not,” you said automatically.
“You are.”
You sighed. “Fine. I am. So what?”
He studied you carefully.
For once, he didn’t have an immediate response.
“…Why?” He questioned.
You hesitated. Then shrugged.
“I don’t know.” That wasn’t entirely true.
But you weren’t ready to say it.
Edward didn’t push.
He just nodded slightly.
“…Fair enough.”
You noticed that you were catching slight feelings for Edward too.
It had been months now since you were moved to his room, and honestly? You forgot it was suppose to be temporary, but now you were praying the warden had forgotten about you, so you could stay with Ed a while longer.
The first time your hand brushed his, it was accidental.
You both reached for the same piece of paper.
Your fingers touched.You froze. So did he.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Edward then pulled his hand back slightly.
Not abruptly.
Just enough to give you space.
But he didn’t look away.
“…You didn’t flinch,” he said quietly.
You swallowed.
“…Neither did you.”
Something passed between you then.
Unspoken, but it was real, and you started to question if he maybe felt the same way about you...
“You’re a riddle you know?”
You glanced at him. “What?”
"That’s such a random thing to say."
"Even for someone like me?" He replied.
Edward was watching you again; that familiar, intense focus.It was softer now. You didn't reply to him because you knew he already knew the answer to that.
“I can’t solve you,” he said.
You huffed lightly. “Good.”
“No,” he replied. “Not good.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
He leaned forward slightly.
“Because I don’t want to solve you.”
That caught you off guard.
“…wait what?”
“I want to understand you,” he said. “There’s a difference Y/N..”
Your chest tightened slightly.
You looked away.
“…That sounds dangerously close to something sincere.”
“It is,” he said simply.
You didn’t know what to do with that.
Both of you were sitting closer than usual.
Your shoulder brushing his. Neither of you moved away.
Edward glanced at you.
He reached out to you.
Just…placing his hand over yours. Waiting.
You looked at it. Then at him. His expression wasn’t smug for once. Or teasing. He looked a bit uncertain.
Which was rare for him.
“…You’re overthinking this you know,” you said softly.
“I overthink everything.”
You huffed a quiet laugh.
You titled your head against shoulder, not fully but enough that you could smell his scent; antiseptic, old paper, ink, and bergamot.
You turned your hand slightly.
Interlacing your fingers with his. He stilled himself completely.
Like his brain had short-circuited.
“…Oh.”
You smiled faintly.
“Yeah. Oh.”
For once, Edward Nigma didn’t have a clever response.
Didn’t have a riddle to blurt, nor did he have an answer.
He just sat there, holding your hand.
His eyes looking at you like you were the only puzzle he didn’t mind never solving.
