mistyhazebloom

[mistyhazebloom]

Why do I always end up thinking about them like this? Maybe it's because there's already so much tragedy tied to them. I do want to heal them—truly.

[mistyhazebloom]

Messing around with my pen tab as always.

[mistyhazebloom]

Hmm… Since last week, his image as a prince has been haunting me. Before I knew it, I started sketching him in royal attire, though I’m not sure how it’ll turn out. If it ends up convincing enough, I might share it around AU Week. But if it doesn’t come together… I might just scrap it. Haha.

[mistyhazebloom]

what would you imagine a Night Prince Adler wedding would be like?

(This Q&A is related to this reader insert fiction)

The Wedding.

Before the ceremony, there was chaos.

Let’s rewind the fairy tale—with a twist.

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Short Story (Reader Insert as Bell)

[Kingdom of Night] A Marriage in Motion

[Genre] Romance Fantasy + Comedy + Political Intrigue

*Note 1: Hudson appears briefly. You may roll your eyes—but trust me, it’s worth it.

*Note 2: A compact cut of Russell’s road to marriage. Unlike the last story, the writing’s fast, straight to the point.

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Previously, Russell had chosen Bell as the one he needed to marry to become king. But he found himself captivated by her unexpected sharpness. Even after visiting her father’s estate, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

[The letters and hidden promises]

So he began writing letters. At first, they were formal and stiff, but gradually they turned casual, filled with everyday trivialities. Bell had never exchanged letters with a man before, but she replied diligently, using the etiquette she’d been taught.

Soon, they began to miss each other’s letters.

Russell sent her a handkerchief embroidered with threads of the galaxy, and a glass case containing a flower that only blooms in the Kingdom of Night. (It was actually a hidden proposal.)

[The Prince, the Plot, and the Vanishing Bride]

Just as their relationship was blossoming, Bell’s father invited another Prince… Well, let's see… Jason Hudson of the Kingdom of… Sun. (Bell’s estate lies between the two kingdoms—a strategic location. Her father was weighing his options, plotting where to marry her off.)

Word reached the Kingdom of Night, and Russell grew anxious. Despite his advisors’ protests, he set out himself to bring her back. He secretly took her to his kingdom.

After Bell vanished, her father’s face looked like he’d been hit by a nuclear bomb. No clues. No witnesses. Just silence—and the unbearable question of who had taken her.

But he couldn’t say anything publicly—if rumors spread, Bell’s "market value" would drop.

Actually Russell had seen through his scheme and struck where it hurt most. (Hell, yeah.) It might’ve looked impulsive when he took Bell—but make no mistake, it was a move carved from cold, political calculus.

Meanwhile, Jason arrived at the estate, completely unaware of everything that had happened, stepping out of his carriage with his scalp gleaming under the sunlight…

[Crash-Landing into Connection]

At that moment, Bell and Russell’s group ran into trouble.

Because Bell hesitated at Russell’s invitation, they only reached the border at dawn. The night’s magic carpet was damaged by sunlight, forcing them to crash-land. Russell reassured Bell, and they wandered through the forest.

They tried heading to a nearby village, but Bell had never walked so far before—her legs gave out.

So Russell carried her on his back, and a quiet moment of connection passed between them.

Then, General Lawrence Sims of the Kingdom of Night, leading a patrol, found the two covered in dirt and leaves.

Lawrence : “Buddy, what happened to your face? LOL.”

[The Final Move]

Eventually, they arrived at the kingdom.

Somewhere along the way, Russell started seeing her as the one he couldn’t imagine life without.

Russell : “The more I see you, the more I like you.”

Then Russell sent Bell’s father… a wedding invitation to his own daughter’s wedding. 😂

It was revenge for the way her father had turned her into a commodity.

The wedding was solemn, with a grandeur that felt more like a spectacle.

Jason, from the Kingdom of Sun, looked around the ceremony and muttered sarcastically:

Jason: “Well, they’ve got all the bells and whistles.”

Then he entered Russell’s groom’s room, shaking his head.

Jason: “Russ, you sly fox… getting married before me?”

Russell just grinned.

Turns out—they were friends all along.

―――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

…And that was the brief journey of Russell, Prince of Night and Midnight Sovereign, toward his marriage.

[mistyhazebloom]

Dad's Smile

Yesterday, I sat quietly and imagined the expression he might wear the moment he first realized he had become a father. This will be the very first Dadler drawing.

He may not be a perfect father. But I believe that when he looks at his child, a fleeting expression will cross his face—one we’ve never seen before. Perhaps the most vulnerable face he’s ever shown in his life.

It’s a feeling older than human history itself, something close to instinct.

He’ll sit in the backyard, lifting his sunglasses just enough to watch the child play. He won’t say much, but if the kid tries something dangerous, he’ll quietly—yet firmly—step in.

[mistyhazebloom]

oh what if Bell/Reader and Russell also had exchange letters in the Night Price au ? Russell probably had a very distinct seal(Dark Blue with moon/stars theme) She probably had them always saved in a hidden place in her room

(This Q&A is related to this reader insert fiction)

Yes. I've imagined them exchanging letters.

Russell would entrust his owl—or perhaps a cherished bird—to carry his messages. Whenever he wrote to her, he would choose the most reliable means of delivery.

Bell, in turn, would keep his letters in a box hidden in a place only she knew. And each time she touched one, it would feel as if she were breathing in the freshness of the night air. While writing her replies, she would care for Russell’s bird, offering it treats and gentle attention.

There’s one detail I’ve imagined that isn’t explicitly mentioned in the AU. Russell’s formal title is Midnight Sovereign. he is the true ruler of the kingdom of night. But since he has not yet married, he is still referred to as a prince. His initial approach to Bell was driven by a desire to marry a compliant woman and thereby claim the title of king.

However, the Bell in my story is far from passive. And that ironically is what piqued his interest. (laughs)

[mistyhazebloom]

Normal speed.

When he finds something… interesting. Like us, obviously.

And just extra.

[mistyhazebloom]

SS(Short Story) : First Encounter - Reader insert(OC) or Bell & Adler the Prince of the Night

Adler, Prince of the Night. And Bell, the reader(OC)—meeting him for the very first time.

This is my own imagination of the Kingdom of Night, inspired by a conversation with @ladysouthpaw1213. I wondered : what would their first encounter be like? And so, I wrote it.

[Genre] Romance Fantasy (in the style of aristocratic fiction, fembell-femreader-oriented)

[Setting] Noble society, with a modern edge. For convenience, the protagonist is called Bell, though readers are free to imagine themselves in her place.

*Note1 : Adler is the Prince of the Night. During the day, his influence wanes slightly— but he still functions like any ordinary person.

**Note2 : And one more thing— I never thought I’d write romance fantasy. But here we are. Please forgive any awkward phrasing or clumsy turns of expression in what follows.

[Scene#1]

The sound of polished shoes echoed through the marble corridor—measured, deliberate. It was the master of the estate, Bell’s father, making his way down the hall.

As he passed, cold air curled in his wake, and the servants bowed silently, stepping back toward the edges of the corridor. Without knocking, and without sending anyone ahead, he flung open Bell’s door.

The careless father who barged into his daughter’s room cast a sharp glance around before calling out. "Bell…?"

A soft footstep halted. Then, from behind the curtain’s shadow, Bell stepped forward.

She looked like a crescent moon—fragile enough to collapse, yet composed and striking in her quiet elegance. Her eyes, however, held the depth of night itself—a silent glow born from long endurance.

"There’s a banquet tomorrow, you know that, don’t you? I expect you to do well. Be beautiful. Be perfect." Upon seeing his daughter, he tapped his cane against the floor with a faintly satisfied smile.

But it was not the smile of a father. It was the smile of a man appraising a product.

"And tomorrow, we’ll have a special guest. Many nobles pass through our estate, but this one is different. He’s the prince of night, from the western lands. You may have seen him before at an official gathering. You won’t be formally introduced, but he’ll be touring the manor."

Bell felt a stir within her. Her heart skipped a beat, but she did not blink. "Yes… yes, Father."

He smiled at her once more, then left the room as indifferently as he had entered.

[Scene#2]

Bell spent the night staring into the quiet flames, nestled deep in the fireplace.

The fire in the hearth crackled and danced, casting flickering shadows across the room, but she didn’t move. Her attendant grew worried, hovering near the doorway, unsure whether to speak. But Bell remained seated before the fireplace, silent and still.

It wasn’t until dawn that she rose. She bathed, brushed her hair as her father had instructed, and chose a dress.

Her habit was clear—she never picked anything too ornate. The dress she selected was simple, clean, and quietly elegant.

She had no desire to draw attention. It was her quiet refusal, a subtle rebellion against the way her father paraded her like a prized possession. In a house where beauty was displayed like merchandise, Bell’s restraint was the only resistance she could afford.

[Scene#3]

The next afternoon, a pageboy rushed through the manor, announcing the arrival of guests. They came by yacht or boat, docking at the pier just beyond the estate. Some nobles insisted on traveling by carriage, clinging to tradition, while others chose more modern means.

From a distance, Bell watched the entrance of the manor, her eyes fixed on the guests as they passed through the gates.

And then he appeared—Russell.

The prince of night arrived in an open-top car, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the sun. Despite the modern flair, his ceremonial attire marked him unmistakably as royalty. The sunglasses were not a fashion choice—they were a necessity. A tool that allowed the prince of night to move freely beneath the sun, shielding him from the light that did not belong to his realm. His hair shimmered in the sunlight, flowing like the mane of a well-bred horse.

Bell’s father greeted the entourage with a wide smile, his face lit with pride. The guests scattered across the lawn, playing light games or resting beneath the shade.

The men took to billiards or went riding. Bell observed their movements from afar, her expression pale and unchanged.

[Scene#4]

As night fell, the ballroom stirred with excitement. After Bell’s father gave a brief speech of gratitude, a jester performed a few tricks, and the ball began. Eager nobles sought out partners, whispering sweet words, their movements smooth and effortless, like waves flowing across the floor.

Bell stood hidden behind a pillar, watching the tide of dancers. Their gestures were as soft as waves, their whispers passing like the wind. She simply watched, knowing she could not step into their world.

The prince of the night, Russell, also danced with a random partner, but his movements held only grace—never seduction. When the music changed to a slow, romantic tune, those with fiancés and couples known for their affection stepped forward to dance.

Russell, connected to no one, slowly walked back to a table at the edge of the room. He lifted a glass of wine but did not drink, as if savoring the moment in silence, watching the ballroom unfold before him.

[Scene#5]

Meanwhile, Bell watched the dancers and quietly lamented her fate. Leaning against a pillar, she recalled that she was meant to be a commodity within the household— bound to a fate of marriage, not of her own heart’s desire. The thought cast a shadow across her delicate face. It felt easier to empty her mind, to think about tomorrow’s dress, a poetry book she might read, or the household chores waiting for her.

From the table across the room, Russell noticed the slight furrow between her brows and smiled to himself. Bell was too lost in her thoughts to realize he was watching her. But she was the only girl at the party wearing a frown.

After a while, she turned her gaze slightly— and suddenly realized the prince was looking at her over his wine glass. Her eyes widened in surprise.

He winked at her. Bell felt flustered, as if he were teasing her. To Russell, It was like he could sense something different about her. He grinned softly. Between them, couples drifted past the ballroom floor in slow, graceful dances.

As Russell swirled his wine and quietly rose from his seat, Bell instinctively felt she needed to avoid him.

[Scene#6]

Trying not to draw attention, Bell slipped through a small open door at the edge of the ballroom and stepped into the garden. Outside, the air was crisp, filled with the hum of insects and the cool breath of night. Moonlight spilled across the garden, casting a pale, silvery glow over the hedges and stone paths. Bell made her way toward the shadowed gazebo.

But then—she heard footsteps behind her. She tried to ignore them, continuing with small, deliberate steps. Yet the confident, steady stride behind her was closing the distance, no matter how much she tried to pretend it wasn’t.

[Scene#7]

She stepped into the gazebo, and soon after, she heard footsteps climbing the steps behind her. Bell squeezed her eyes shut.

"Running away, huh…" A low, gentle voice drifted through the night air.

She turned around, her back pressed against one of the gazebo’s pillars. He approached her, stopping just inches away. Bell looked up at him, startled. He chuckled softly at her reaction.

"Did I scare you, miss…?"

Bell swallowed hard, then asked softly, "Do you… know me?" She hadn’t expected him to notice her at all.

His breath, laced with a quiet smile, felt as though it brushed against Bell’s skin.

"We haven’t officially met… But I know—I’ve seen you before." His voice was soft, slow, almost like a lullaby drifting through the night.

He looked at her. His eyes never leaving hers.

"That night… you were at the party. Keeping to yourself. Watching." He placed a hand on the pillar she was leaning against. His face was kind, and somehow… a little sad. But then, it shifted—into a gentle smile.

He could see the tension in Bell’s pale face, but when she didn’t pull away, didn’t run, he lowered his head slightly, leaning closer to her.

But Bell...

"It was… really, really nice meeting you. But I should go." After saying that, Bell took a small step to the side, her eyes flicking toward the garden path— but Russell moved, quiet and certain, standing in her way.

His posture was regal, unwavering.

“You aren’t going anywhere… Not yet, miss.”

“But I have to.”

The prince, who had carried himself with elegance all afternoon, now stood stubbornly in the small gazebo, as if determined to see her more clearly.

His eyes locked with hers. “No you don’t.”

[Scene#8]

Bell had no choice but to look up at him. His blue eyes glimmered in the darkness, fixed on her. To Russell, her crescent-shaped presence— delicate, quiet, and luminous— was deeply captivating. Not just as a prince of the night, but as a man.

And in that moment, Bell felt something she had never known before— the unmistakable gaze of a man drawn to her.

It wasn’t duty. It wasn’t the obligation of being a daughter of her house, nor the quiet execution of tasks her father assigned to her. It wasn’t the poised smile she wore at gatherings, or the graceful silence expected of a well-bred girl.

It was something else. Something unfamiliar. Something that saw her—not as a symbol, not as a promise— but as a person.

…And it unsettled her.

[Scene#9]

Russell leaned in, as if entranced by her. As he looked at her… he was so close, his nose nearly brushed hers. His breath was warm, and carried the faint scent of wine— rich, dark, and lingering.

The space between them felt impossibly small— as if the night itself had folded inward, leaving only the two of them. Then he noticed it— the faint tremble in her shoulders, the pale hue of her cheeks.

“Oh… poor little miss,” he murmured, almost tenderly.

He gave a crooked smile and gently cupped Bell’s cheek in his hand.

“You look like you might faint,” he murmured. “If I make you collapse, will I be banished from your father’s estate?”

Bell froze at his touch. His gentle touch resonated in her soul before she heard his voice. His gaze was playful, but something beneath it unsettled her— a quiet sincerity she hadn’t expected.

Bell took a deep breath. "If my father finds out a guest has vanished," she said quietly, "he’ll be deeply embarrassed."

But Russell didn’t flinch. His tone remained light, almost amused.

"Do you really think they’ll gossip about us?"

Bell turned her face slightly, just enough to break the contact. But Russell’s fingers lingered, as if he hadn’t noticed—or didn’t care.

"They’ll talk," she whispered. Her voice was quiet, but edged with steel— the kind of calm that only noble women mastered when refusing to be swayed. "People always do."

Russell tilted his head, amused. "And yet here you are, whispering to me in the dark." He leaned in, "You whisper like you want to be overheard… Then let’s give them something worth talking about…?" He said, his voice velvet.

Bell’s heart stuttered. She should have pulled away. She didn’t. Instead, she met his gaze—steady, unyielding.

"If I wanted to be overheard," she said, "you wouldn’t be the one I’d whisper to."

It was the first time she’d ever spoken back to a man like that. Not with courtesy. Not with silence. But with words that held their own weight.

[Scene#10]

Russell blinked. He hadn’t expected that.

She had seemed delicate— all soft glances and quiet grace. The kind of girl who bowed, smiled, and said nothing more. But now… there was steel in her voice. Not loud. Not brash. Just enough to cut through the velvet.

She wasn’t just a well-bred miss. She was something else. And he liked it.

Bell, steeped in the echo of her own words, gently touched her lips. Had she been too sharp? And yet— for that brief moment, it felt strangely liberating not to hide behind a practiced smile.

Sensing that Russell’s gaze still lingered on her, Bell lowered her eyes. His stare wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything— she wished it would stay a little longer, as if it had seen through something she hadn’t dared to show.

"You're not just a pitiable young lady, are you?" He smiled, a glint of warmth in his eyes.

"Then—brave young lady, forgive my rudeness." With that, he dipped into a light bow— not stiff or formal, but just enough to make her feel seen.

Bell’s brows drew together, just slightly. Not enough to be called anger— but enough to say she wasn’t amused.

Was he mocking her? Or worse— trying to charm his way out of an apology?

She held his gaze, steady and cool. "If you’re going to bow," she said, "at least mean it."

[Scene#11]

Russell blinked. Well. Again, that was unexpected.

He’d meant the bow as a gesture—half jest, half charm. But she’d seen through it. Called him out, clean and sharp. He straightened, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "Touché," he murmured. "You’re sharper than you look, Miss."

And for the first time in a long while, he felt the distinct thrill of being outplayed. And he found—much to his own surprise—that he rather liked it. He let out a quiet chuckle, eyes still on her.

"Next time… if there is a next time for us— I'll ask you for a proper dance." He spoke slowly, dragging his words, anticipation woven into every breath.

Bell lowered her gaze, but the corner of her lips curved—barely.

"…We’ll see," she said softly.

The words hung between them, quiet and unassuming, but full of something neither of them could name.

And then— the moment passed. But it didn’t quite leave.

=============================

It lingered—quiet, invisible, but undeniably there.

Meeting Russell, the prince of the night, was the beginning of Bell’s awakening. Through him, she would discover the push and pull of two hearts—something her father never showed her. And now, their story may deepen.

One-shot short story. If you wish to continue the story, the ending is yours.

[mistyhazebloom]

It started as a solo Woods piece, but the brotherhood kicked in out of nowhere.

[mistyhazebloom]

A few days ago, I sketched a rough draft just like always, I planned to finish it with line work and flat colors. But I changed my mind. (However this is not my current style)

The canvas was small, though, so I couldn’t really draw the facial features properly but the face kept calling me, so I gave in.

A medal, a suit, and hair tousled by the wind. Don't think too hard...it's pure romance.

So I call him Walking Romance.

[mistyhazebloom]

Geez… I think I'm gonna get ADdicted to this style.

@blackopsimagines (imagine 130 : EMO HAIR Adler)

[mistyhazebloom]

Random doodle

[mistyhazebloom]

your Adler art is so pretty and I love how you included short stories with some of them. There’s just so much you can do with him(fueled so many fic/au ideas in my head

Thank you so much for your kind words. Sorry for the late reply—I was asleep, and it felt like the power in my head had been switched off.

I think I tend to portray Adler in a pretty way because, to me, he is pretty. Sometimes cool, sometimes funny… he’s that kind of guy.

Honestly, I still don’t know how to describe him properly. It’s only been a month since I started drawing him. I don’t think I’ll get much better at it, but drawing him makes me happy. It’s like writing a diary—I just draw him as he comes to me. And maybe that’s enough, right? (laughs)

[mistyhazebloom]

do you mind if people DM you(to chat about OCs, squeal about ideas and the like)?

Feel free to DM me. (^v^) I get a little shy about it, but I did leave them open.

[mistyhazebloom]

Riding out for you

(Shady Back Alley design by Yukihyo)

[mistyhazebloom]

Fan culture

In the fan communities I was part of, discussions focused almost entirely on canon characters—OC was almost never mentioned. Maybe the very concept of OC didn’t exist for them. It wasn’t until I joined Tumblr that I realized so many people happily share their OCs.

When I was younger, I used to create OCs on my own while watching anime, but there was nowhere to post them or find understanding. Or perhaps I simply didn’t know those communities existed.

Even now, I still imagine and draw various scenarios with official characters, but whenever I try to flesh out an OC, it still feels awkward and embarrassing. Haha…

I’m a bit curious: how do other people unfamiliar with OCs feel when they see them? However, I find it fascinating and admire their creativity.

[mistyhazebloom]

Since summer began, I haven’t gone a day without fiddling with my pen tablet for over four weeks.

The feeling of drawing and playing like I did as a kid has slowly come back.

Honestly, I hadn’t sketched a single line in years.

It’s truly an old tablet, covered in dust.