#thank you for playing hei!

[ladywaffles]

hello fellow enjoyer of things >:)

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

💖 What made you start writing?

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

💞 Who's your comfort character?

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

😈: i am so bad at writing smut scenes so i always fade to black, even when it feels like there should be a scene there and i've built up to it, and it just feels cruel. i would say like 60% of the time there was a sex scene there but i just couldn't get it right so i always end up cutting them out before posting. also i wrote a story once where the entire thesis was "what if the villain deliberately broke the rules on bioethics, as a character study and worldbuilding exercise" and well. readers did not seem to like that. conversely, i also have not updated either of my big WIPs in over a year, so like, that too.

🛒: music and sound are a very big part of my life, so they come up in my stories pretty often! i really enjoy writing to set the place of a scene/story, so i do a lot of touch/smell/hearing similes and metaphors. in terms of feelings, there's a lot of contemplating of loneliness, but not the kind that is, "i am alone in my room," rather the, "i am the only one who has this set of experiences and circumstances, and i cannot explain myself to this person who i care about so they can understand my actions/affections/choices fully, and that makes me feel isolated."

🛠: i primarily use scrivener to write fic, although if you catch me without my laptop, i'll sometimes use google docs or just a plain old fashioned pen and paper. if i'm plotting something out for a longer story, i might use a handwritten timeline on a blank sheet of paper and then just cover it in highlighter and sticky notes as i tack on addendums, if i'm not just screaming about it in a friend's DMs. thesaurus dot com is my best friend.

💖: i started writing fic when i was maybe 11 or 12, right around the time that i first learned that fic existed when i was looking up pictures to make my nook wallpaper, and you could do self-inserts and change the story around to suit your desires, like play-pretend but better. there were just so many permutations to explore, and i really liked that idea! i didn't start publishing fic until i was about 15. that first fic is still out there on ao3 somewhere, but i've since anonymized it so i don't have to look at it on my profile anymore lol. (not because i think the fandom is cringe, but rather because i've grown a lot as an author and it's not necessarily representative of my ability anymore!)

👀: so i know the answer you want me to tell you about is the comphet iceman accidental lovechild aaron tveit AU but sadly i have no more words on paper than that which i have already told you (iceman, very gay and upset over breakup # 3 with maverick, comphet rebounds with a woman who is also very gay and rebounding comphet style and whoops there's a baby now and here comes a bouncing baby aaron tveit). i'm still working on the timelines, because the top gun timeline in relation to the actual universe timeline of when everyone got married/how old aaron is versus when CMIYC was on broadway/aaron's nearly 10-year long absence from broadway is a hot mess and i'm trying to piece things together in the way that is the most true to form/makes the most sense.

💞: donald scripps from the history boys ("I have never particularly liked myself but the boy I was, kneeling in that cold and empty chapel that winter morning, fills me now with longing and pity," spoke wonders to my eighteen-year-old self who was also off to university and questioning reality) and obi-wan kenobi from star wars ("until this very moment, he had never realized he’d always expected, for no discernible reason—that when he died, anakin would be with him." his place in the series as a man who fights for good because it is the right thing to do, because he believes in goodwill, even as the world crumbles around him because it is inevitable that he fail in his mission and ultimately lose everything and everyone he loves, and we all know that he must fail so that others will succeed where he did not... i eat that shit RIGHT up.)

✅: there are at least three separate instances where i have used the righteous brothers' unchained melody in my writing, and two of them are because the song plays on a jukebox in a greasy spoon diner. it was completely unintentional, that's just a song that keeps popping up lol.

fanfic writer emoji ask

[albaharu]

3 dwarves and a mage walk into a hole full of darkspawn

[doydoune]

it's the year of our lord 2023 and I'm only now learning about Phoenix's and Maya's baker era

pov: you're living your best life making bread and a Lego figurine bursts into your bakery and now you have to prevent a girl from being burned alive as a witch

[ishikawayukis]

I just want to cherish what it is we have now

[jisuto]

[raycatz]

Some dungeon predictions (and things I'd just like to see xD ) for the upcoming arc!

(inspired by boards I've seen in the past. like this! Art from @/linkeduniverse!)

I love Zelda dungeons and LU dungeon crawling fics are some of my favorites! I'm so excited to see what puzzles Jojo's come up with! Nine person puzzles? Let's goOOO!!! There's so many possible interesting things to do with the chain's items and abilities.

[luna-lovegreat]

Luna, my dear sweet friend, can I pick your brain?

Lofty gave me a veeerrry good scenario for a Time vs Sky conflict, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on what that could look like? I picked 2 very mature characters and now I have to make them brawl lolol

I think the best route (for me at least) wouldn't involve the master sword or Hylia. So this would be a personality conflict. I don't wanna spoil the scenario she gave me, so I thought I'd ask for your general opinion on what you think would make them fight, personality wise🥰

Feel free to delete if you don't care to go over this, but I thought I'd ask cus you're really good at going in depth with character analysis❤️

BYE FRIEND😀 also I hope you're doing well and you're amazing and wonderful❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

YES ok so personality conflicts between Sky and Time. There's... a lot to look at there lol.

So I'm just gonna look at each of their personalities +flaws, and then how they interact :))

Soo for Time

Time is dad. He's older and more experienced- and he's still a stubborn gremlin like all of them. He's patient with them but also stern- he cares very deeply about all the boys and Sky is no exception

I don't doubt for a second Time wants to be just as close to Sky as the others

One of Times biggest flaws is the idea of a closed mindset. Which makes sense, since we know Time's ending as the hero's shade- he spends years in that mindset of regret. Time has these thoughts of being too old to change (<no), and allows himself to keep holding onto bitterness, especially about the sword. Which he has good reason to be a grumpy old man already, with the mental and physical age difference, but still

Time is obviously capable of changing his mind- as Wind took a challenge to prove

But overall Time is still. He's not super expressive, my man likes to just be. He wants to be still and live, and hero as needed, and not be a super crazy hero, but just a chill dude with malon.

Time is patient and stern and calm and good. He is also closed and stubborn. That's all good, but it doesn't always work the best with Sky.

So Sky.

I literally love this ask because I could rant forever about his flaws to talk about them more (no one kill me).

Sky very highly values being a hero as part of who he is- in contrast to time who literally just doesn't want to.

I see so much of Sky's patience. And with good reason- with others Sky is endlessly patient and calm in resolving conflict. He's emotionally intuitive and intelligent and awesome

But Sky is also I think extremely impatient. With himself, and with things around him that aren't going well.

He wants answers and he wants them now, which is kind of scary from him. I see a lot about Skys temper, but I don't want to forget how much of that is from impatience- not knowing how to handle things going slow.

Because things moving fast and violently is how it needs to be right? *cough cough IMPA

For all sky is extremely patient with others feelings, he is one of the most impatient people with himself and his circumstances. Which a lot of comes from immaturity, which is my next point-

Sky is. A monster with pranks. I don't even know why it took me so long to realise this was Sky-

Saying 'I know we should help but this is too funny'. Twilight and wild are looking disturbed and like they want to help, and Sky and legend are just cold-blooded leaving four struggling for his shield and taking bets. He's very immature, and furthermore, he doesn't really respect Time as an authority as much in the face of pranking/joking

Bro is not remorseful at all I swear-

I also think 'nice hair' Sky is a little... idk judgy? With people he doesn't get along with as well. Like Hyrule. (Wait I haven't yet I gotta rant on that sometime sorry- but yeah he and Hyrule don't vibe well)

Sky can also be unrestrained with his words and snark- his words can practically be a prank in itself 'nice hair' 'am I late?'. I think sometimes he toes the line with pranks and joking around (like that one quest where you could break Peatrices heart?), and same with his words. Overall he's a snarky and sharper person- and being able to pull off good pranks and jokes isn't inherently a bad thing- he's smart. He's a kind person too, but I think sometimes his words and actions can be too sharp.

I think Jojo also said in the post with their ages that she made him slightly younger because of his immaturity compared to twilight. Do with that what you will

So point is, Sky has flaws that are mildly subtle but still prominent, like his impatience with himself and situations, his immaturity with joking and temper and words, and I hc he's a slightly judgy person. 'Nice costume' to Zelda like SKY but I swear I love him. Don't kill me for discussing flaws please I have a dog

So how this comes together with between him and Time is pretty cool-

Skys impatient, and Time has a resistance to change in his mindset- which means that as far as the sword, Sky wants change now, he wants validation and Time to not hate it. Time does not care about this because the sword hurt him and he's spent years hating it.

But with situations and stuff, especially with the entrance arc, we can see Sky being very impatient after Twi's injury- from what I can tell he wants to rip dinks throat out. But it's still subtle- what's not as subtle is how much Time wants to slow down. He wants to hold them back and protect them, and Sky is impatient in a frustrating situation. I could honestly see Sky wanting to run after the shadow on his own right now (sorry, I've been rereading elastic heart). Sometimes patient + wanting to hurry up doesn't work well.

If you think about it in relation to their journeys it makes sense that they are portrayed this way. Skys journey was about rushing and trying to hurry up. Times journeys were horrifying, with this insane feeling of running out of time.. but he could still turn back said time.

I can't even count the number of people I've seen say they tried to rush through the eldin temple as fast as possible on reruns- after Impa telling him it was too late trying to run as fast as possible even knowing it wouldn't change anything. That translates into skys character, and it must be insanely frustrating for him.

They are both heros. Time's journey was about saving the world and Sky's was about trying to kill a god. It's a big disconnect between them- one is patient and one is not, one doesn't want to be a hero and one's life is being a hero dating a goddess. One lightheartedly jokes and one throws a love letter down the toilet (SKY), one is older and one is immature. Yet on the surface Time wears a scowl and Sky is as soft as can be.

They are so very different in so many ways, but so much alike- they are both heros, they both want to be young and playful at heart. They both really like stabbing things and setting them on fire. And also saving the world.

They are also both extremely mature in ways beyond their years and endlessly kind.

I love them so much.

I wasn't sure to say this in the post bc the ask is about personalities, but I feel like another major issue between them could be whatever happened with Time and timelines and the triforce. Obviously the timeline is messed up. I also have not played times games... but I think in timeline talk one he mentioned the triforce of courage ended up broken? I can see Sky not taking well to all of that.

Soooo in terms of personality conflicts that would make them. Fight? Yikes what are you planning Oma, I would say there's several possible triggers outside of the master sword and Hylia (which I think is wise of you to avoid btw)

I think that Skys impatience contrasting with Time's fixed mindsets can have issues. But the way Sky has shown no acknowledgment of Time when he's tried to stop the boys goofing off w/ pranking can also be a trigger- as well as that sharp and sometimes insensitive snarkiness in Skys words we all know and love. They have. A lot of issues. lol.

Yeah! I uhh hope that helped and was relevant or made sense at all- I swear I love these guys. These two are fun to look at because outside of the obvious stressor of the sword they have a lot of other issues as well. They have differences in thinking and personality that can lead to a lot of tension between them.

Thank you for the ask and I can't wait to see what you come up with

The art and comics is by Jojo @linkeduniverse au :D

Thank you for listening to my rant, and here's one of my favourite pictures of these guys

Simply majestic <3

:)

@skyloftian-nutcase

[tvlandofficial]

TV TIME...

[drowningparty]

If I were Geralt I wouldn't have fumbled a bad bitch this badly

[renegadeem]

Cid Loving Week - Day 7 - Meteor

It is done!

Many thanks to @cid-loving-hours for organizing the week, I had a blast making all of these!

It was my first time joining an event like this, and it was so fun! I was kind of nervous at first and struggled a bit to get started, but once the gears finally shifted I really went ham on it.

I hope these were as fun to see as they were to make ^_^

Don’t forget to appreciate Cid Highwind everyday!

[m1d-45]

Heheehee would love to see venti post-imposter au like that one u did for zhongli...I love guilt >:)))) and thank u, u r amazing!!!!

unnamed poem, unnamed bard

a/n: wrote a whole poem for this. hope you enjoy <3

-> warnings: reader is dead. reader is a literal corpse and is described and referred to as such. major spoilers for mondstat archon quest, the most microscopic spoilers for liyue archon quest.

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

< masterlist >

‘the creator is the highest god across every nation.’

seven sets of eyes stared at the body in front of them, at the arrow shot through it’s throat. several other wounds crossed the body, but none were as lethal as the first.

‘they have created everything, from the clouds-‘

angry gray rippled across the sky, thunder crackling in the distance. the storm had been brewing all day, and now the reason why was clear.

‘-to the air-‘

wind howled and cried, whipping through hair and pulling at clothes. one of the ties around venti’s braids had been ripped away, the hair beginning to unravel in the gale. still, even as nahida clutched at focalor’s cloak to stay standing—poor girl, she’d been trying to convince her—the clothes on the corpse were still.

‘-to the earth beneath our feet.’

blood seeped into the ground below, shimmering even in the dim light filtering through the clouds. the brick pattern below had shining blue for grout, blood tracing a spiderweb out.

‘they are only to be adored with the highest of veneration.’

thin hands shook around the handle of a bow, painted nails digging into the grip. barbatos’ eyes are wide, teal, unblinking gaze staring at the body as if it would magically come back to life. as if it would reach, pull out the arrow, as if it would sit up and chide him for behaving so rashly. it doesn’t.

‘after all…’

amber eyes search for purple, then red, black gloves tightening around the geo lord’s weapon. he was not without sin, having also participated in the chase—none were truly pure, none truly deserved any form of forgiveness except for maybe nahida.

‘it is they to which we owe our lives.’

seven chests heaved with a variety of emotions—adrenaline, contrition, horror—but an eighth was oddly regular. blank, lifeless eyes, matching the color of the ones on the corpse, curved with a smile. well done! they cheered, silent pride shining in the dim light.

‘they are stronger than steel.’

“who are you?”

the gritted voice of the pyro archon shattered the fragile silence.

“me?”

‘brighter than the sun.’

the false god put a hand to their chest, the fake shock on their face not hiding their glee. “well, i’m your god, aren’t i?”

‘with their iron-strong will,’

six hands tightened on weapons. one set let go of cloth, small stature still brimming with anger.

‘eons long work begun.’

new blood stained the dirt, red instead of divine blue. the fake’s body jerked, elemental reactions dancing across their skin as their body fell to the floor. superconduct burned out their eyes, overload locked up their lungs, quicken sped up the rate at which blood flowed from their veins. frozen pinned their still-twitching body to floor as they slowly died.

the gods almost wished that it had taken them longer to die. they certainly didn’t deserve a quick death.

‘they forged the valleys and plains.’

seven voices united by the covered body of their god, undivided by worldly squabbles. grudges and bitterness fell away, if only for now, seven heads bowed on seven sets of knees. even nahida, innocent as she was, had knelt alongside them here. seven prayers were lifted on seven tongues, some wavering, all weak. the scenery did little to distract when they knew they had slaughtered it’s maker.

‘mountains shaped, clouds retained.’

the burial was silent, only the sound of dirt against dirt breaking the solemn air. shimmering jade rose from the earth, obsidian lettering carving out their sin. seven were too weak to continue standing, seven sets of tears beginning to fall. seven asked for forgiveness.

‘as night turned to day turned to night again,’

none would receive it.

‘their last creation made, to their own world they ascend.’

grass and flowers were quick to grow over the unsettled dirt, risking quick uprooting for the chance to get closer. seven hearts burned. seven souls screamed.

drinks hit their tables with loud bangs. ‘who are you, bard?” a man called. ‘where have you heard such things?’

barbatos was the first to flee, unable to bear feeling their aura so long after their death. his wide wings flapped erratically, all of his usual grace lost as tears blurred his vision. the cuffs of his shirt clung to his skin, droplets of blue already staining to matter how hard he tried to scrub it out. it refused to even smudge.

he tucked his wings in and dove, barely even trying to slow his fall once he got closer to the ground, not feeling the pain in his feet. he stumbled once, twice, then collapsed at the foot of his own anemo statue.

the boy laughed, the teal on his nails matching the mirth in his eyes.

barbatos’ chest heaved, the air he commands abandoning him in his time of need. the peaceful breeze of windrise couldn’t hide the uneven beats of his heart, the cool stone behind him not soothing the burn on his face. he could see them, the golden chains of his crimes, already encircling his arms. the fingers that pulled the string stiffened with shining rings, too tight to be comfortable, his opposite palm already beginning to glow. some scrap of his consciousness mourned how it would affect his ability to play, to drink, to move, the unforgiving chains binding his actions.

the larger majority mourned his god.

‘you can call me venti.’

[crimeronan]

izzy also mused on how compelling a hunter possession arc stretched over a few episodes would be in a full-length season and now i am thinking about That. would be Really fun if the catalyst wasn't as obvious as in a one-ep plotline so the fandom got to argue about whether the increasing instability was some kind of Grimwalker Illness or not. MAYBE LUZ NOTICING SOMETHING IS WRONG AND HAVING TO OUT HIM BC *SHE* THINKS IT'S GRIMWALKER-RELATED......

Touches The Soil.

[etrosgate]

never should've smoked that mirage weed, now im in the tower of druaga 1984

[quirkle2]

protective

[alternate version under the cut for funsies]

[misericorsalvator]

An Epitaph

Henry didn't know where he was. It was cold, freezing, but that was all he could tell, from the sharp chill that tore through his damp clothes, to the frigid air that felt like icicles in his lungs when he breathed. Even if he was someplace familiar, it would have been impossible to tell through the veil of rime in the air, the thick hoar that coated the ground. But wherever he was, he had to find shelter. soon, before his limbs grew any number that they already were and he lost the three fingers he had left on his right hand to frostbite. It took a good deal of walking, trudging through the snow, before he found something resembling sanctuary. A rocky hovel dug deep into a mountainside he hadn't even noticed was there. The crooked mountaintop loomed far overhead like a wind-swept pine tree, towering over the barren expanse and shielding the small patch of land near the cave's entrance from the worst of the snowfall. It was a narrow fit, the opening more narrow than a coffin, but it opened up into a wide chamber beyond, dark, lit only by the little light reflecting on the snow outside.

Panic stabbed at him suddenly. That chamber felt familiar, though he couldn't recall from where. The rockface of the walls was smooth, man-made, and the stalactites hanging from the domed ceiling above were unnatural, all the same length, jagged and sharpened to fine points. But he had no time to waste on the unnerving interior. The weather outside was getting worse, the wind howling like wolves on a hunt, and soon his shelter would be just as cold and dangerous as the outside. He had to think, find a way to keep the warmth in. Henry returned to the entrance. He twisted around in the narrow space as best he could and began piling up snow with his numb hands, stacking it, pressing it into shape, mouthing breathless curses to himself, until he had built a solid wall halfway up to his neck. It should last. He didn't know for how long, but at least for now, until he could catch his breath. It had to last.

Henry slumped against the wall of the cave. The barrier he had built offered some protection, but he could still feel the cold creeping in, seeping through the gaps and cracks in the snow. A damp chill gnawed at his bones, freezing the air in his lungs. He knew he had to keep moving, to do something, anything, to stay warm and awake. He couldn’t afford to fall asleep. Not here. Not now. But his limbs were leaden and his body creaked in protest with every movement. His teeth chattered as he tried to think, tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. The harder he tried, however, the more his thoughts seemed to slip away, like sand through his fingers. Panic clawed at his chest once more as he looked around the cavern. The walls seemed to close in, the smooth stone shimmering with a thin layer of rime frost. The ceiling above with the unnaturally sharp stalactites, loomed over him like a mouth full of fangs. He had to get out.

Henry pushed himself off the wall, his legs shaking beneath him. The snow was piling up faster now, further in through the entrance than the wall he had built, and he frantically began to shovel it away with his hands, trying to clear a path through the narrow gap. He shovelled harder, floundered, grappled til his fingers were too numb to move, but for every tiny hopeful opening he made, more snow took its place, as if the storm outside was determined to bury him alive. The cold was unbearable now, seeping into his very soul. Outside, the wind roared, a feral sound that echoed through the cavern and made the air thick with cold. Each breath now was a knife to the chest, each inhale burning his lungs. The snow crawled closer, blocking the entrance fully, and began to cover the cave floor inch by painful inch, forcing the hunter back step by painful step.

Henry's mind was reeling. He stumbled further into the cave, away from the encroaching cold, the bones of his legs creaking in protest. The deeper he went, the more the walls seemed to close in on him, the smooth rock pressing down, suffocating. The quiet there was unnerving, an oppressive stillness that made him painfully aware of his own laboured breathing and the pounding of his heart. The silence of the grave. For what felt like an hour, he pushed himself forward against the stone walls, cowering under the stalactites which were now low enough to graze the top of his head. No matter how far he went, the snow followed close behind, blocking the way back. Henry's movements grew slower, more sluggish, until he could no longer outrun it, and that white frost began piling up around his boots. He felt the fight leave him, his breathing weakened, his heartbeat slowed.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it—a single snowflake, delicate and perfect, drifting down from the ceiling above. His breath caught in his throat as he watched it fall, impossibly slow, through solid rock. It glowed faintly in the dim light and Henry’s eyes followed its descent, almost hypnotized, until it landed softly on the ground. On something dark, something that wasn’t stone. He crouched down, his stiff knees cracking in protest, and wiped away the snow, his fingers brushing against a cold, unyielding surface.

A hand.

His hand.

His breath caught in his throat. He was looking at himself, at his own lifeless body, crumpled and broken, half-buried in the snow. The wounds were horrific—deep gashes and punctures that were draining the life out of him-- and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer.

This wasn't real.

The snow, the cold, it was all in his head, growing blurry as his brain ran out of oxygen. And the cavern wasn’t just familiar—it was the place he was dying, right now, in the real world. The place where his body was lying, bleeding out into the cold ground, his blood darkening the stone ground.

For a third time, panic surged through him, but it was laced with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. The wind howled louder, and now Henry could make out voices, battle cries, screeching and yowling in twisted satisfaction. The snow now poured into the cave through the solid ceiling above, burying everything in its path. He wanted to claw his way out, to escape this nightmare, but his limbs wouldn’t respond. The snow was too thick, too heavy, pressing down on him from all sides. As his vision began to blur, the walls of the cave pulsed, breathing with a life of their own, in tandem with his own slowed breaths. The snow continued to fall, endlessly, burying him, until all he could see was white. And then, from the heart of the storm, he saw a figure—a tall, imposing silhouette that moved with unnatural grace, cutting through the blizzard as if it were nothing. Henry tried to focus, but his mind was slipping, the edges of his consciousness fraying like old cloth.

His final thoughts drifted to Bran. A deep guilt welled up inside him. He wouldn’t make it home for Christmas this year. He wouldn’t see his boy’s face light up when he opened his presents, wouldn’t hear his laughter echoing through the house. Regret gnawed at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. In his last moments, as the darkness closed in, Henry barely registered the sharp pain in his chest—a bite, cold and searing, as if winter itself had latched onto his heart, and his eyes froze over with unshed tears until the world faded and he breathed his last.

In a long-forgotten catacomb in Wales, as the last drop of Henry's blood soaked into the humid ground, something ancient stirred. Beneath the layers of earth and stone, within the crypt that had long been forgotten, a pair of eyes snapped open. After centuries of entombment, something awoke. The blood of the dying hunter seeped into its consciousness, filling it with the remnants of Henry's life, his memories, his regrets. And once the blood had ran dry, the ancient knight rose from his tomb, his eyes burning with a cold, unholy fire.

He tore through the killers, the blood-thirsty beasts who had chased their prey to the ancient tomb, splattering the walls with their undead blood that burnt to ash, until none were left. Then, he looked down at the broken body of the hunter who had unwittingly become his saviour. With a grim sense of purpose, the knight knelt beside Henry’s lifeless form. He whispered words in a dialect long dead, a prayer, perhaps, or a vow. Then, with a reverence reserved for fallen comrades, the knight lifted the hunter’s body and carried him deeper into the crypt, where heroes were once laid to rest, where the knight's own tomb stood, broken apart from within. The hunter was gone, his spirit entwined with the ancient knight’s own, but his legacy would live on, honoured by one of the very creatures he had once sought to destroy.

The knight sealed the tomb with a final, solemn gesture, then left the catacombs behind and stepped out into the warm summer night, into a world which had long outlived him.

[thisbluespirit]

So, yesterday, I remembered to glance at current dramas on BBC Sounds again for the first time in a while, and got a huge and wonderful shock on finding this at the top of the SFF category.

It's a 1971 6 part supernatural series starring Martin Jarvis & Patricia Gallimore. I don't think it's ever been repeated since. At least parts of it were missing for a while, and I had no idea whether the rest of it was extant or not. But I liked the sound of it enough that I bought the novelisation, and it was top of my impossible radio listening wishlist.

Yesterday, I got to listen to Part 1, Part 2 should be broadcast later today!

ETA: You can listen to the link regardless of where you are in the world! (UK listeners just get the Sounds app as well if they want it.)