Lord Hades: A God Who Drives A Taxi In Marvel

Hades Deathborn

As the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, the city of New York starts to stir. It's the start of another busy day in the bustling metropolis, and there's no time to waste. The early morning air is invigorating, with a refreshing crispness that energizes the senses.

The streets are relatively quiet at this hour, with only the occasional car or delivery truck breaking the silence. The sidewalks are empty, save for a few brave souls out for an early morning jog or walk. The storefronts are still closed, their windows dark and empty.

But as the sky grows brighter, the city truly starts to come alive. The rumbling of trains can be heard in the distance, signaling the start of another busy day. Birds chirp cheerfully, adding their own unique melody to the mix. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon fills the air, tempting even the most dedicated of sleepers out of bed.

As the morning rush begins, the streets fill with people. Commuters rush to catch their trains, bus drivers start their routes, and delivery drivers make their way through the crowded streets. The energy of the city is palpable, everyone hustling to start their day.

In an luxurious apartment, the shrill sound of the alarm clock filled the air. The woman, her long hair tangled from sleep, groaned in frustration at the sound.

She reached out a hand, her nails painted a glossy black, and slammed her fist down on the clock, shattering it into pieces. The broken shards of plastic and metal scattered across the nightstand, glinting in the early morning light that filtered through the blinds.

"That's the fourth alarm clock you've broken this week," a man's voice said from beneath the blankets.

"Honey, let's sleep a little longer," the woman said, hugging him tighter. Her voice was soft and pleading, her body warm and inviting.

The man sighed and reluctantly closed his eyes again, snuggling closer to the woman. He knew that if he didn't get up now, he would not be able to leave the comfort of the bed for a while.

But it was so warm and cozy under the blankets, and the woman's embrace was so soothing. He just couldn't bring himself to leave.

▪▪▪▪

The time flew past and its now 9 am.

"Come on, love, we have to get up," the man said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why? Can't we just stay in bed all day and cuddle," the woman replied, nuzzling her nose against his neck.

The man chuckled. "As tempting as that sounds, I have to go to work."

The woman groaned and reluctantly let go of the man, sitting up in bed. The blankets fell away from her body, revealing her slender frame and pale skin. "Fine, but you owe me a cuddle session later."

The man chuckled and sat up as well, planting a kiss on the woman's forehead. "Deal."

The man finally dragged himself out of bed, his muscular body sculpted like the Greek gods. He had always been proud of his physique, spending hours at the gym to keep it toned and strong. His dedication to his fitness had earned him the nickname "Hercules" among his brothers, and he had always been proud to live up to it.

He had pale skin adorned with tattoos of roses, skulls, and crying spirits. The tattoos had taken years to complete, each one representing a different moment in his life. The roses were a tribute to his mother, who had passed away when he was young.

The skulls were a reminder of the dangers he had faced and overcome. And the crying spirits were a representation of the guilt and grief he had carried with him throughout his life.