more blogger AU for you all
Sam actually first interacted with Lucifer over tumblr back when Lucifer was just gaining popularity. Sam's personal posts were usually in regards to his newest town of residence, since he, Dean, and John moved around all of the time. He'd gained a nice number of followers from these posts (in a combination with the stuff he reblogged from folks like Luce).
What he really liked doing (and what he got the most notes doing) was telling ghost stories and urban legends surrounding the places he went to. He was always a superstitious kid, and he and Dean had had their fair share of strange experiences while going around and doing a bit of urban exploration. Sometimes, though, the apartment complexes, old flats, houses, and hotels they stayed in held some of the most interesting stories of all of the places they went.
Like the one in this one post:
Man of Letters Log #51 -- apt. 669a
Dean and I decided to set up candles earlier tonight when the power went out for a short while there. The old apartment is really pretty cool looking, in my opinion. Dad thinks it's just another place that needs fixing up, but...well ,I don't know. I kind of like it how it is. The wall paper's old and sun-bleached, and the electric lights and fans look like something directly out of the 40s. The wooden floor creaks minimally when I walk across it, even though Dean and Dad stomp around it, making it creak and moan and groan with every step like it's begging for them to stop abusing its poor old finish.
Thing is, I get the feeling it really is doing just that. Last night, I had this dream that Dad and Dean were tied to the ceiling fans like marionette puppets, and they would move around the room like the house was controlling them...and I saw a door open to the attic space above our part of the tenant house...and, of course, my dream self ignored my pale, dead-looking family to go investigate the attic. I walked down what felt like an endless hallway and eventually came across a naked light bulb that hung from the ceiling. I looked closer and saw that it was a bit more than a light bulb, though. It was an eyeball staring blankly at me as it hung from the ceiling. What could I do but stare back? I heard creaking and the wooden boards below my feet bent and arched around me. I stared at the bulb, unable to move. A voice came from behind me and said something...I can't remember it, I'm sorry. I felt a hand on my shoulder, then something sliding around my neck, and just as the floor reached the ceiling in a perfect, circular arc, it snapped back down again, and the thing (rope? a belt?) shot backwards and took me with it, snapping my neck.
I woke up today and headed to the local library as soon as I could manage it. I looked up the history of our house, thanks to a helpful librarian, and found that the first owner of the house had a young daughter who had lured her cruel older brother upstairs (after he'd stomped around her room pretending to be a monster coming to get her the night before, biting and clawing at her legs and feet until she was in hysterics) and had convinced him to stand on a chair to change the light bulb in the ceiling. She slipped a poorly-made noose around his neck and knocked the chair out from underneath him. As a side note, she also was very fond of marionette dolls. Apparently, each of the residents since then have heard strange noises in the attic and have seen the lights blow out even when the rest of the power grid is perfectly fine and there is nothing technically wrong with the electrical wiring in the place.
Some of the residents have even had borderline prophetic dreams, according to a few sources...while staying in the room Dean and I sleep in now.
I'm not sure I believe this stuff, but I'm kind of...I don't know. I'm kind of freaked out, to say the least.
I'm hoping the power comes back on soon. Or that Dad gets home. Either one will do.
Lucifer saw the post because Meg reblogged it. He admitted that it freaked him the fuck out. He liked it, then moved on to some gifs of cats. That usually could lighten his mood. He kept a tab open for the Man Of Letters guy's blog, just in case he updated.
And he did not disappoint.
I just had the most terrfying fucikin g nightmare I can barely type I"m sorry for that ahead of time.
I thought Dad had come home. There was stomping outside the room and I figured that Dad was still wearing his steel-toed workboots or something like that and was just trying to check in on Dean ands me. And holy fcuking hell the door cracked open and it was a young girl, probably seven years old, I don't knwo, and she looked me in the eye and like gave me this spooked look and pointed to where Dean was sleeping and I turned to looka thim and he was like fucking perched on the bedpost and had these pitch black eyes and this fucking terrfying grin on his face and I just stared for a moment and when I reached over to turn the light on he jumped at me and the girl screamed and I felt like whatever this not-Dean thing was was just clawing into my neckand heart and guts and
And I woke up with Dean standing over me. The lights had just come back on, but he said they were flickering while I was asleep because I had ust started screaming out of the fucking blue, scaring him half to death and I...I don't know what to say.
What do I do?
Lucifer's eyes widened at every line. He opened the reblog link and quickly typed out:
you get the fuck out of that house that's what you do
Sam's notes on that post shot up shortly thereafter. He did get the fuck out of that house after a few more intense dreams and a few bouts of sleep paralysis (something he hadn't experienced since they were in New Jersey a few years back). Dean and John were superstitious, too, so it didn't take much to convince them that a quick blessing and scrubbing wouldn't fix the place up.
That and John got a new job a couple of states away.
Sam followed Lucifer's blog for good, then. He'd only been a distant admirer before then, but he noticed that the random guy who did wonders for his note count and number of followers had a lot in common with him as far as interest groups went.
And that's how it happened. That was their first internet interaction.