In my Ageswap AU Dimple is a Dragger-type spirit who just popped into existence thanks to the faith of the members of Mezato's cult. However, since nobody was sure about what Psycho Helmet was supposed to do, their collective beliefs were so confusing that they kind of nullified each other, creating Dimple—a weird little spirit who just knows he wants to be god.
Mezato doesn't know he exists until she meets Serizawa. Even when Serizawa warns her of Dimple, she refuses to acknowledge his existence because Dimple doesn’t fit the definition of Psycho Helmet. She knows, because she created it, and she knows she is meant to mold someone else into Psycho Helmet. Her best choice? Serizawa. Meanwhile, Dimple thinks that by possessing Serizawa, they'll become the ultimate deity
But Serizawa really doesn’t to do... any of that. He just doesn't know how to deny. Mezato is nice to him. He feels responsible for poor, little confused Dimple, somehow. So Serizawa simply navigates through all this hoping they'll all be friends without that nervewracking cult stuff
I think he puts out saucers of milk for Dimple because he isn't sure about how spirits work. Dimple faces it as an offering but for Serizawa it's the same as feeding a stray cat
This amuses me greatly, here's a lil snippet of what I imagine would've happened if instead of disacknowleding Dimple, Mezato summoned him in front of the whole cult~
ANDDD, creative writing exercise:
They’d done it. The task hadn’t been easy by any means and had certainly drawn more than a few mocking comments and pitying glances from the laymen of the public, but they’d persevered despite that all and now waited with bated breath for their lord’s impending arrival. The devotees of Lord Psycho Helmet were gathered in the hall upon the instruction of their faithful shepherd to witness the grand reveal of the one they’d worshipped so fervently for months.
Mezato stood in the rafters offside the stage where she intended to invite their righteous leader into the corporeal realm, any nervousness sublimated into the confidence she’d need to address the crowd. It should be simple enough, the speech had been prepared a few days in advance following a brief conversation with an anxious Katsuya. She had gotten all the information she needed out of the kid to be able to summon the spirit who guided her movement, and though he’d been adamant that interacting with such forces could lead to catastrophe, Mezato wouldn’t let that deter her, since when did a little danger phase a seasoned journalist? Everything had been laid out and even the followers of Lord Psycho Helmet had a limit to their loyalty, they needed to see evidence of their leader sooner rather than later. He must’ve been spooked in the past by some phantom, it likely wasn’t anything to be too concerned over. The gears were turning now, the plan set in motion to go off without a hitch.
Self-assured, Mezato stepped up onto the stage, the silence shattered instantly by ecstatic cheering (surely they could feel it too, the energy in the air) and whoops from the crowd below. Like charging a battery, their belief served as the driving force to push the necessary charge needed for the summoning, all she was required to do was release that energy precisely at the peak before it reached an overflow. Smiling beatifically, she adjusted the microphone on the lectern, a poised ‘ahem’ indicating to the devotees that they ought to settle down once more. When the volume had reached a comfortable enough level to speak without straining her voice, Mezato began her spiel with the informative cadence of a media-trained professional and the vocabulary of a youth pastor.
“Dear brethren, thank you all for gathering here. The day has come at last that we shall welcome our glorious leader into our world!” This earned another burst of uproarious elation from the crowd, though was quelled almost as quickly as it had erupted too allow her to continue.
“Though many have doubted us, called us all sorts of jeering, cruel things, even gone so far as to label our whole movement a farce and daub us as witless fools,” she cast her left hand across the hall emphatically, making direct eye contact with anyone who met her gaze, “we’ve persisted regardless, and now our efforts shall be rewarded! We stand on the precipice of truth, of enlightenment, physical proof of our devotion and faith that can’t possibly be refuted even by the most pedantic of skeptics.” She allowed a moment of pause to let that set in for them, basking in the hundreds of hopeful, smiling faces directed at her. So much trust, so much pure adoration, nothing could quite rival the feeling of this level of devotion from so many people. Further bolstered, she bouldered on in a more authoritative tone, booming through the speakers.
“Together, we shall manifest our leader here, on the stage, so please raise your voices for Lord Psycho Helmet!”
The interior architecture of the hall was definitely not designed for the levels of sound being generated as their collective chants resounded against the reinforced concrete walls, such volume would’ve punctured the ear drums of lesser beings. Mezato watched on proudly, reciting the given incantation under the blanket of noise, careful to get the timing of the final executing word just right, at that peak. Oh, and it was coming, she could sense it, the hairs on the back of her neck raised (and they could too, even the most psychically dull would get the tingle of something powerful skittering across their skin), still acutely aware of the climbing tension.
Then, then, NOW! The final syllable rolled off her tongue and a burst of light flashed beside her, comparable in her mind to the luminosity of a supernova. The whole room was blinded by the flashbang, a still quiet had once more descended for a few seconds followed by confused mutterings as they glanced back onto the stage. Shielding her eyes, Mezato’s gaze shifted back to the the position beside her, expecting… well, not quite whatever this was. A brightly blushing, lime green orb with a wispy trail, no greater in size than a honeydew melon, floated a few feet off the ground, bearing an unimpressed expression evident from the subtle downturn of their lips, perplexity communicated through their expressive eyes as they surveyed the crowd in front of them. Was this Lord Psycho Helmet themself? Another beat passed between them all before a few proactive souls in the crowd prostrated themselves before the supposed deity, the rest getting the hint and following suit. Mezato looked on at the entity incredulously, for someone who she’d spoken so highly of and hyped up so dramatically, they were a lot more mundane than she’d expected, especially with such a bombastic entrance.
“Why’re those people bowing to us?” She was startled out of her speculation by a direct address from the deity, speaking in a down-to-earth, casual way to her as though this were a conversation between peers. Forcing her racing heartbeat to slow enough for her to get words out coherently, she loosened her iron grip around the lectern and answered as best she could.
“Not to us, lord. To you. You are Lord Psycho Helmet, right?” It couldn’t hurt to get confirmation on this, they wouldn’t smite a dutiful follower like her on the spot for such insolence after all the work she’d put into establishing a loyal following for them. She could be afforded this leniency.
“Lord Psycho what now?” Ah… her expression fell slightly, gingerly grimacing as she realised she may really be in over her head with this. The spirit (not Lord Psycho Helmet, it appeared) seemed oblivious to her deflated hopes, adopting a shit-eating smirk, quickly correcting themself, “Oh, yeah course I am. Your God, and, as I’m merciful, I’ll excuse your insubordinating question.” They floated forward across the stage, taking stock of the hundreds of souls lowering themselves before their beloved Lord Psycho Helmet with a conceited sound of amusement.
Mezato observed the display with quiet frustration, how could someone of her calibre have been duped by this fraud of a deity. Worse still, she was obliged to work with this phony until she could get the REAL Lord Psycho Helmet lest those accusing the whole religion of being a racket be proven right, tainting her own reputation permanently in the process. Gritting her teeth, she bore the new responsibility thrust upon her shoulders, the consequences Katsuya had warned of had definitely been metted out, albeit not quite in the manner expected. Turns out messing with supernatural powers outside of your control don’t always result in disastrous damages, sometimes they just leave you with an annoyance equivalent to a phantasmic mosquito.
(It's been way too long since I wrote any sort fiction instead of journalling, this was fun to do!)
THIS IS HILARIOUS SKDJFHKSFJSHFSDJKF













