BATIM x Reader One Shots

(Requested) Norman Polk/The Projectionist x Reader

Context: Takes place post-chapter 4/Norman's death and is a reunion type story
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After you watched the Ink Demon take the life of that Projectionist, you wandered the halls of that floor in a sort of mourning. You had no idea whether or not he would come back. Your mind was full of a sad, confused haze. Did the ink revive things as well as they say it does? Or will he be lost to the depths forever?
You had known Norman for years prior to all of this happening. You had a sort of fondness towards the man for as long as you knew him, admiring his sense of humor and peculiar way of talking to people. Lots of people didn't like that about him, but you loved it. He was independent, smart, and surprisingly loving if you got to know him enough.
You weren't sure how much of that was left within The Projectionist, though.
You always thought that was a funny name for him. Sure, it was his occupation, but it felt like such a title. Thirty years ago, he would have laughed at such a dramatic nickname. Now, however? It was all he was known as. You weren't even sure if the others knew that Norman was the one behind the projector.
Returning to that familiar area where you first saw the demon attack him, you listened closely to the room around you. Trying to detect any different noises, perhaps a unique dripping or the sound of someone trudging through the ink...

There was something!

It sounded like a faint clicking. A rapid ticking, each small and faint noise following the next at a very fast speed. Almost like the whirring of a film reel.
You ran as best you could through the ink, disregarding the cold substance that was now seeping though your already stained pants and tarnished shoes.
"Norman?" You said aloud. You never used his nickname.
You saw a shadow move against the far wall, causing you to back up. It was in that moment that you realized the possible danger you could be in.
The ticking noise got louder, this time accompanied by a strobing light. You smiled brightly.
"Norman! It's Y/N!" You said.
The footsteps approached you, blinding you with that flashing light. You giggled, shielding your eyes from the light.
There he was in all his glory, standing as though he had been here waiting for you the whole time.
"Now, when on earth did you reform?" You asked him. He gave a gleeful hum in response.

He 'spoke' mainly in a series of hums, clicks, whirs, and screeches. However, the creatures down here had developed their own form of sign language which he often utilized. Many of them had lost the ability to vocalize along with their corruption, and creating a nonverbal language was the only way around that sudden blockage.

"Where have you been?" He signed.
"Where have I been?" You replied verbally, knowing he could still hear and understand you. "I should be asking you that! I'm down here every day looking for you, and what have you been doing? Hiding?"
"Kidding." He signed in response.
"I figured. Hard to get sarcasm across now, isn't it?"
He clicked in reply, indicating laughter.
"Any sign of the demon?"
"No." He sighed. "Part of the reason why I've been hiding."
"Oh." You frowned. "I was kidding about the hiding thing."
"I haven't been back long." He replied.
"How long, would you say?"
"A day."
"How did I manage to miss you? I've been down here practically every hour."
"Hiding." He signed again. "Seriously."
"Well, consider yourself the hide-and-seek champion." You smiled. "What do you say we go rest somewhere? You must be tired."
He nodded, whirring lowly to indicate his exhaustion.
"I'm not entirely sure how ink bodies work, but I would be tired too if I just rebuilt myself from scratch."
He hummed again, grabbing your hand.
"Miss me, much?" You laughed.
He gave an affectionate whir, turning that hand-grab into a full hug. You hugged him back gratefully, giggling.
"C'mon, you dork. Let's go find somewhere comfortable for you to lay down."
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Word Count: 700