Working desk job means exactly this: apartment, tube, workplace, tube, apartment. It’s hard to find sunlight anymore, but he doesn’t think he minds: maybe he’s already used to this. It’s been longer than he cares to remember.
He spends about two hours a day on the tube - not much compared to the amount of time he spends in his booth at work, but he doesn’t really register those eight hours. It’s like his mind switches itself off the moment he arrives to work and leaves him running on muscle memory alone. Time operates the same way when he’s at home, so by now maybe he’s only really conscious during the two hours on the tube.
Sometimes he stays back on the tube past his stop. Sometimes until it reaches the end of the line. Sometimes he takes the tube with the intention of going somewhere specific, but then just sits there as his destination flies past him into the dark tunnel he’s just passed. Sometimes he goes down into the stop, just to hear the quiet again.
Sometimes he sees maintenance doors somewhere in the tunnels, and for no reason he keeps their locations in mind.
Sometimes the tube takes a turn that he doesn’t recognize, and he feels his heart beating faster all of a sudden. He would stare at the railway through the window pane, counting the seconds, until the tube runs past a corner he knows, or until he reaches his destination. Those moments still happen to him after two years of taking the tube to go… anywhere, really. He thinks he has the whole map learned by heart by now, but the underground keeps proving him wrong.
There’s a community online for tube dwellers. He doesn’t know any of the dozen of members, online or offline, but he has come by some of them on other forums before. They don’t seem to be of any particular profile: there are men, there are women, ranged from 20 to maybe older than 50. The posts are few and far between, but some of them detail everything reachable by the tube. There are things even he doesn’t know.
He screenshots some of the posts and keeps the photos in a separate folder, for no particular reason.
The community hasn’t had a new activity for about three months by now. The members call themselves Rats. He checks through some of their personal pages on that site; the ones he checks have all been abandoned.
Maybe they’re tired of the lack of sunlight in the tube, he thinks on the way to work. The tube sways and trembles quietly, its hum fills the air. Humans aren’t made for the underground afterall.
concept of something vaguely formed in my head. I call it Rats of Spice City.
These are the most popular fanfics in the mob psycho 100 tag on AO3 when filtered by kudos, comments, and what I’ve seen personally in the fandom. All of these are for general or teen and up audiences. None of these fics contain pedophilia, incest, or rape.
If you’re new to the fandom and haven’t read any of these yet, they’re a good place to start.
Featuring works by phantomrose96, UncannyCookie, Sifl, and more. If you feel like there is a work that belongs on this list that isn’t on it, please let me know.
It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops
dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes
with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever
exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says
again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look
cursed to you?”
Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”
“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just
stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long
look, and really think about it…”
(There’s nothing strange about being called back to exorcise
the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted
Teru agrees to attend a party celebrating his uncle’s full
recovery after a horrific “car accident,” but he’s not excited about
reconnecting with his cousin, Minori, who he recalls is as bad, and likely
worse, as he used to be.
However, he is not expecting to find her trying to turn over
a new leaf in the wake of a traumatic spiritual possession, and in dire need of
a confidant. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, they have more in common
than Teru would like to admit…especially when he realizes that Minori is trying
to track down her mysterious rescuer.
This is a world in which Mob and Reigen’s paths have never crossed, in which 10-year-old Mob found psychic guidance in the form of the aging, retired tv personality Keiji Mogami, in which Reigen followed through on his plans to close the Spirits and Such Agency, in which a cruel twist of Mob’s powers forces him to confront how dangerous he really is.
10 year old Shigeo Kageyama has vanished, his trail instantly cold, and his case gathers dust in police archives as a kidnapping never solved. Four years pass before a chain of events causes his path to cross with that of the despondent, unfulfilled fake-psychic-turned-fake-investigator, Arataka Reigen. Reigen finds himself in over his head caring for an escaped victim of abuse who, for reasons unfathomable, has been taught to believe his very existence is a horrifically dangerous thing…
In the aftermath of the night fighting Claw’s 7th Division,
Mob’s powers return to him. However, something unknown is left behind with
Reigen. Something that doesn’t want to remain there. And someone begins to take
notice of the strange psychic activity coming from the Spirits and Such Consultation
(Or: in which Reigen is saddled with ???%, and things go
poorly for all involved.)
Teen and Up Audiences
A Risk of Going Through a Doorway Is That It May Be Locked
Shut Behind You