Blue Lock Characters Male

"Jade!" He said in a commanding voice. "You want me to be a princess and set me up for price. But dad, you don't get it." She paused. "I belong to the other side of the tale, I love Dragon!" She shouted at her father and  turned around to walk away. Her words skipped the breath of a person. A person who never thought someone might love what he is. Yes, he is a dragon. A tragic accident during his childhood gave him a new life, a life gifted by the dragons. He owns their power which saved him from death, but the same power distanced him from the world of today. A century with flying planes would never accept a flying dragon; that is what he thought until a loud and clear voice declared her love towards dragons. ~~~~~ "I don't know you." Jade pushed him back.. He regret to accept her offer. He never thought this is how they would meet. And now his task was the hurdle between them. He took a step towards her one after another. She gazed at him in confusion. Wiping out the space between them, he stood exactly in front of her. As she looked at him, his face changed. Her eyes widened at the familiar face. She gulped and stepped back. "Why you?" she said in a low voice. ******* Jade Shaw Halston, a rebellious daughter of a great business man. Love is what she crave for while her father wants money. Alden Ryuu Greyson, a man with the power of a dragon, who fell for the person for the first time ever in his life just because she loves dragons. Will their love succeed or hunt by the tracker?A mysterious tracker that no one knows.

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

My wife, Wendy Sinclair, has a severe sleepwalking disorder. After she falls asleep, she always wanders out in a state of unconsciousness. The night before our wedding, she disappears without a word. I have no choice but to postpone our wedding. Only then does she walk out of her childhood friend's house next door, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Afraid I might overthink, she cries and apologizes to me. "There's no cure for my condition. From now on, just tie me up when I sleep, okay?" I feel sorry for her, so I just change the door lock to make sure she cannot go out. But in the middle of the night, I wake up and see her standing on the edge of the balcony. She climbs in through the window and goes into her childhood friend's house again. Soon, suggestive and intimate sounds come from inside. My blood runs cold. Her sleepwalking isn't an illness at all—it is out of love.

On the day the male influencer patient was discharged, he posted a tearful video accusing my chaste, principled doctor wife of sexually assaulting him. In the clip, he cowered in a corner of the hospital, trembling, his clothes disheveled. With a terrified cry of "Dr. Shelby," he abruptly cut the footage. Overnight, my wife became a monster in a white coat—public enemy number one across the internet. We begged him, again and again, to come forward and clarify the truth. Instead, he posted an injury assessment report and wept about being bullied by his doctor. My wife had no way to defend herself. She was suspended pending investigation—and in the end, she leapt from the thirtieth floor. I endured humiliation and waited for the truth to surface. When it finally did, I obtained a reexamination report that proved her innocence. But by then, no one cared about the truth anymore. And I, consumed by despair, died of cancer. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day that patient was first admitted. This time, I begged my wife to take leave—I wanted to take her away from this doomed fate. But my gentle wife wrapped her arms around me, her eyes red, and said, "Don't be afraid, honey. This time… I won't run away."

We’d been together for seven years, but during that entire time, my fiancée rejected the idea of getting married ninety-nine times, all because of a male intern. The first time, she canceled our vacation at the last minute, saying the intern was stuck on a night shift and afraid of the dark. She got on a flight that very night and rushed back to the hospital. The second time, we were already halfway through the doors of the courthouse to get our marriage registered. But just then, she got word that the intern had collapsed from exhaustion. Without a second thought, she left me standing alone in the snow for the entire day. After that, it became a pattern. Every time we were together, the intern would find some excuse to pull her away. Eventually, I made up my mind to let go. I stopped dreaming about a happy marriage with her. However, just when I announced I was transferring to another city, she broke down, begging me, almost hysterically, not to leave.

At a banquet, Winona Quinton’s stocking got snagged on something. I moved to take her to the dressing room, only to see her male assistant reaching under her skirt. I grabbed his wrist. “What does my wife’s torn stocking have to do with you?” However, Winona shoved me away. “Stop overreacting,” she snapped. “Corey has even changed my underwear before. It’s just stockings.” That night, news of the attentive assistant caring for his female CEO went viral. By the end of the event, I was gone, leaving my resignation letter with the assistant. Upon receiving it, Winona threw it aside. “Jared Strathmore has gone too far. Get him here immediately!” I returned—this time with freshly drafted divorce papers in hand.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

My daughter’s kindergarten held a family event, and I rushed there, only to see her holding hands with my wife’s male secretary. “Daddy,” she said, “I wish our family could stay like this forever.” I watched as the three of them hugged, radiant with happiness. Suddenly, exhaustion washed over me. Later, I filed for divorce. Then I left to teach in rural villages for thirty years. If I couldn’t light the lamp in my own home, I’d at least illuminate the path for others.

I had been secretly married to Vivian Grant, my CEO wife, for six years, yet she never once let our son call her Mom. After she missed his birthday again because of her male assistant, I finally put the divorce papers in front of her and walked away for good with our son. The woman who had always seemed so controlled finally fell apart. She stormed into the office demanding to know where I’d gone. But this time, neither my son nor I were coming back.

My wife, Violet Miller, was obsessed with cleanliness. Yet I caught her peeling shrimp for a male intern at a dinner party. I demanded a divorce on the spot. Violet stared at me in disbelief. “Daniel is like a younger brother to me. What’s wrong with looking after him? Are you really divorcing me over this?” My heart ached. Maybe... it was time to let go.