Hello ladies and gents.

Inspired by my little brother and fellow author, Mr-Dusk, upon writing and sharing his Loud House and Helluva Boss crossover story, which prompted my own interest in the latter series and my increased fascination with the crossover fandom between the two. After watching the first season and with some inspiration from other creators here and on DeviantArt (besides my brother's Lincoln Goes to Hell, I'd like to name Hell's Loud by TvFan2244 and the Lincoln in Helluva Boss comic series by Khialat as other sources of inspiration), I decided to cast my lot and write some crossover of my own, but deciding to go a little bit crazier on the action quotient than most of what I have seen.

Still I have put in a good amount of heart and I hope you enjoy this little outing of mine.

Now, on with the show!

A Hair-Raising Hare

The location, a dusty road somewhere in the Midwest, the time, about 10:30 in the evening; a flash of light suddenly appeared a few feet from the road, and from it emerged a sleek black sports car that zoomed down towards a seedy-looking city in the distance.

Inside, a rabbit of humanoid proportion was inside. His eyes scanned the buildings of the decrepit cityscape as he passed under the overpass marking the boundary of the downtown area. Lincoln drifted into a nearby parking lot and stopped perfectly on an empty square. He shifted into his human disguise – on his head was a black ten-gallon hat, and downwards from there was a maroon-red short-sleeve with an ash-black buttoned vest with some patterns of silvery undulating lines all over, and a U-shaped leather yoke draped on the shoulders and held with some studs; his bottom was navy-blue jeans held up with a belt and ovoid buckle with the ace of spades on it and finishing his ensemble were gray chaps and some snakeskin-pattern cowboy boots. He picked up the sidearm harness from the opposite seat, and locked the car, as he prepared to move out his earpiece began to chime, and from the other end was the familiar voice of his Aunt Millie, "Hi, Lincoln, are you okay? Did you pack everything you needed in the car before you left?"

"Millie, please, it's Hellhare when he's on the job," the faint voice of Moxxie came through as well.

"Relax, Uncle Moxxie, I just got here, and don't worry, Aunt Millie, I got everything I need." Lincoln patted his holstered sidearm.

"All right, but please be careful, honey, I'm not doubtin' your skills or nothin' but I really wish you'd let us come along."

"Much as I'd love the company, Auntie, the client said I gotta do this one alone, or else we might as well do it for free."

"All the same, just watch your back, Linky, we're all hoping you come back safe, especially Loona."

Shortly after that remark, Lincoln could hear Loona shout "He can take care of himself, Millie, and leave me outta this!"

"I will, Auntie, I'll be home soon," He walked across the street to a nondescript building with boarded-up windows and cheap neon signage, "it's showtime."

…

Hellhare had so far gotten into the target area without a hitch, and was enjoying the joint's bloodsport cage fight. He even had a drink or two as the death match between the two guys in the caged ring went on.

Lincoln had two marks for this particular operation, one of them being a rather muscular blonde-haired fella in the ring beating his opponent's face in to the roar of the crowd.

As he stood up gloating over his fatal victory, Hellhare rose from his seat and pulled the bulky boltgun from his holster and fired at the corner hinges of the cage. The loud bang of the munition being fired, striking the hinge and then exploding had caused the patrons to panic and leave. Lincoln calmly walked into the opening from the fallen section of cage, and approached the confused and angry-looking fighter who was clearly irritated from having his moment of glory cut short by this white-haired interloper.

Lincoln put on his cheeky smile as he bowed before his prey, "Yo, buddy, the eighties called and they want their glam rock mullets back."

The guy responded with a growl like some kind of wild animal and prepared to throw down like one too.

"Not really the type to talk, huh? Fine by me, I like to get down to brass tacks myself," Hellhare pulled a small paper from his back pocket, and started reading it over, "I believe your name is… The Swordsman, right? Gotta tell you, that is one kooky name, I mean, how long did it take you to come up with that?"

The Swordsman pulled out a dagger he had hidden in his boot for emergencies and tried to slash at Hellhare, who deftly dodged as he read the slip of paper he had.

"Murder, rape, assault, rape, drug dealing, smuggling, wow, you like rape a lot. The most important one is that you're leading a gang of lowlifes around here Mr. Cage Fight Champion, that and you're the personal bodyguard for a Mr. Drexal..."

Hellhare quickly caught the Swordsman by the wrist as the dagger nearly impaled his head, "...Mr. Drexal happens to be the manufacturer of a knockoff vaccine for any poor sap desperate enough to get a shot during these hard times. My client used to work for the enterprise too until a sample of this vaccine ended up killing his kid, and then you offed him."

"That dead idiot hired you? What the fuck?" The Swordsman finally spoke.

Lincoln disarmed him and threw the dagger far off away from the fighting area, "Tell you what, bonehead, I'm going to humor you and we can settle this business with a good ol' fashioned fisticuffing." Hellhare holstered his gun and began swaggering about with his arms at the ready for some bare knuckle brawling.

The Swordsman, howling like a madman, lunged forward and prepared to hook him with a right, which Lincoln quickly shifted right to avoid, and retaliated with a hard jab into his side, which forced the buff fighter back, recoiling from the hard hit Hellhare laid upon him.

"Looks like you struck out, Mr. Swordsman, but I'm in a sporty mood, so how about I give you a chance for another go?" Lincoln held his arms out to his sides, taunting The Swordsman into making another move, if he dared to.

The Swordsman recovered and tried to rush towards him with arms ready to hold him in a bear hug. He grabbed onto Hellhare and tried to squeeze his middle torso to make him pop like a sachet of ketchup. He probably should have locked his arms too, when Lincoln smacked him up his temples and forced him to let go.

"That's two chances bud, and now you're out of luck." Hellhare cracked his knuckles and began jabbing into his opponent's belly rapidly, before he started pummeling into his torso like a jackhammer, bone and sinew snapped and cracked with a sound like metal getting battered, before finishing with a haymaker that sent The Swordsman flying and breaking down the other side of the cage as he tumbled into the ground.

Lincoln walked towards the edge and could see the guy's body lying splayed and unmoving on the floor, "That takes care of Mr. Swordsman, now onward to Mr. Drexal."

…

Hellhare was in an elevator, heading up to Drexal's office, tapping his foot to the sound of muzak until the machine came to a sudden stop. He tried pressing the buttons on the side, but it didn't respond, the lack of whirring from the machinery let him know that he was stuck here, "Cute, Mr. Drexal, but it'll take more than stopping a damn lift to keep your head from my bolter."

He inspected the sealed elevator doors, they seemed tough, but nothing he couldn't handle. He paced back a few steps, then turned around on a dime, and did a back kick into the door, the impact throwing them open and warping them out of shape, "The universe provides."

As he stepped out, he looked to the side and saw a stairway down one path of the hallway, "Time for this rabbit to hop along."

He was just a few feet out of the elevator when some armed thugs rushed in and trained their weapons on him. Thinking quickly, Lincoln gripped one of the bent elevator doors and ripped it off, positioning it in front of him to act as a shield, which absorbed the small-arms shot in his direction. A moment later and they needed to reload, which Hellhare took advantage of by dashing out and shooting his boltgun at them, each diamond-tipped round finding their spot and twisting their flesh as they dug their way in, before exploding and ripping out their viscera every which way that could be found.

Lincoln inspected his handiwork as he passed them by, "Chunky salsa and me without tortilla chips."

The run up the stairs was uneventful, apart from a few gangers up above him taking some potshots, blowing up the banister and some of the old, musty wood along the way. Soon he made it up to the floor where Drexal's suite was located, and there was very little standing between him and the mark now.

He approached the double doors of Drexal's residence, he placed a hand on the door, "Now if I was a sensible, if ratty, mob boss, I'd have a bunch of goons with guns trained towards this very door, trigger fingers ready to gun down anybody ready to take out my killer." Sure enough, at that precise moment, a small entourage was inside with some firepower that would tear a single man apart, and behind them was Drexal, sitting calmly on his desk, arms resting and fingers crisscrossed together.

He looked ready to take on the world, but deep down he feared for his life, and could anyone blame him? Some nobody comes waltzing into his place of business, throws his best enforcer down like some dollar store security guard, and rips through his guards like a sledgehammer through a pumpkin patch, no ordinary man could just idle by while their impending demise is fast approaching.

Suddenly, there came a tapping noise from behind him, causing him to jump momentarily in his seat. He turned around, expecting perhaps a bird to have landed and making some noise, he saw the white-haired young man who creamed his defenses standing on the other side of the glass, smiling cheekily.

"Good evening, Mr. Drexal, and as the old saying goes, 'welcome to die!' or something like that," Hellhare kicked the window and shattered it in. Drexal ducked aside as Lincoln jumped in and landed on top of the desk, before he proceeded to unload his bolter rounds into a couple of goons who didn't make the turn fast enough, and were punished for their lack of attentiveness with a gruesome goring. Those that were fast enough wildly fired into Hellhare's general direction, who was already dashing towards the nearest one, shooting an uppercut on one guy and sending him straight up into the large ceiling fan above, chopping his head off and causing the fan to come spinning off of its moorings and down near Lincoln, who grabbed the still-spinning fan by its loose wires and used it as a shield to block the fire from the other goons, before swinging it like a flail and hacking the remaining thugs apart.

When the dust settled and most of the blood was drying up, Hellhare turned back towards Drexal, who was on the floor covering his head and waiting for the havoc to be over. Lincoln walked up to him, his demeanor relaxed and confident as it had been since he got there. Drexal nervously looked up to see Hellhare's black leather chaps and cowboy boots making weighty thuds on the floor as he approached.

Drexal lifted himself off the floor and was on his knees, cautiously sizing up the white-haired man who was standing before him. He gulped as a cold sweat or two ran down his face, he kept it together as best as he could, "Who are you, what do you want?"

"Who I am is none of your damn business, but what I want definitely is, specifically the bounty on your head, Mr. Drexal." Lincoln cracked his knuckles, eager to get this mission done with.

Drexal stumbled towards his desk, managing to keep from falling over in a panic, "What are you talking about? Who put a bounty on my head? Listen, whatever they're paying you I can double it, maybe triple even!" he was fumbling for the gun taped just under his desk, trying to buy some time until he could get it.

"Sorry, but as a consummate professional, I can't divulge the name of my client, or the details of what he offered, but I can tell you that he was someone you probably knew and has a vested interest in seeing you dead."

"Hmph, that's a damn shame, you know a guy like you would be pretty useful to have around here, and I could have given you a nice, steady paycheck cut from a slice of the profits I make in my little enterprise," Drexal's hand reached the firearm, he needed to time this just right if he wanted to avoid going six-feet-under.

"A kind offer, but I'll pass," Hellhare had already noticed what Drexal was attempting to do, and though he wasn't one to play with people's hopes, he tended to make exceptions for those that would do the same; as soon as Drexal made for his hidden weapon, Lincoln struck the desk with a karate chop and splintered the whole thing in two, and Drexal howled in pain as his arm was pinned beneath the ruined desk, with Hellhare looking over him with a ruthless grin, "Besides, there are plenty of bounties in the world, so I'm never short of chances for pay dirt," Lincoln walked over the desk and stood over Drexal, pressing the heel of one boot against the shoulder of the arm pinned under the desk, "Not like you, once I'm through with you."

He raised his boot once more and slammed it into Drexal's face, caving in his skull, and sinking his eyes and nose into it.

Hellhare rubbed his heel against the carpeting on the floor, and a voice commented on his handiwork, "Whoa, fancy footwork Hellhare! I'd clap my hands but uh, I got nothing."

Lincoln stretched his arms over his head, "I thought it was pretty touch-and-go there for a little while, but I gotta admit that was pretty fun, especially since I didn't have to involve the others in this."

"Yeah I tell ya, sometimes solo is just the way to go, but I think it's about time we wrapped up this mission here, eh Linc?"

"Yup, I suppose the others will be wanting to see me back home now," Hellhare was about to make for the door when someone unexpected showed up, bursting through the door. It was The Swordsman, bruised, out-of-breath, some blood dripping from his mouth and his hair, but still looking ready to kill.

"Wow, you survived my pummeling? I'm impressed, and most guys I beat with my fists don't get back up again, Mr. Swordsman," Lincoln cricked his neck, "How about one last round, winner take all?" He stretched his arms out to his sides like a showman making a flourish, and The Swordsman shouted wildly and rushed towards him with his own arms outstretched and prepared to grapple him again. Hellhare was not impressed he would try this again, but he had an idea that could work and bring him down to the ground in style.

As soon as the Swordsman was near, attempting to jump-tackle him to the ground, Lincoln leaned back until he felt the floor, he grabbed onto the big guy's wrists, and then raised his knees so that his feet were on The Swordsman's abdomen. With sufficient thrust, he rolled himself backwards and kicked the Swordsman out of the window he broke in from.

"Nice move, boy!" The disembodied voice couldn't help but laugh in delight.

"Don't get so excited yet, B-G, that was only phase one," Hellhare ran towards the window, "Now here comes phase two!" and he jumped down after his falling opponent.

"Lincoln, you absolute madman!" the demon in the ring Lincoln wore cheered as the air rushed around them.

Lincoln continued his freefall until he was close to the flailing Swordsman, and then he planted both feet on The Swordsman's back, then he pushed him against the brick of the building to both slow his own descent and grind his target's face into paste against the rough surface, before jumping off as The Swordsman crashed into the flickering neon lights that exploded in a bright flash of sparks as Hellhare somersaulted off and did a three-point landing on the road.

B-G would smile a big, excited grin if he could, but he'd have to tell you if he was, "Now that was pretty damn slick, kid."

"Thanks, B-G, I wasn't expecting the big guy to survive my punches down there, but I have to admit, I was glad he showed up in the end. Mr. Drexal wasn't much fun to put down, but I guess that's to be expected from some small-town drug lord, they got the brains but got no fighting talent in the slightest." As Lincoln was dusting himself off, faint siren sounds could be heard in the distance.

B-G could hear it as well, "You hear that, kid? That's our cue to amscray, or we might get in trouble, both here and in Hell."

"I got it, B-G," Lincoln returned to his car parked across, and the engine hummed to life as he got in and turned the ignition, "Time to make tracks and head back down the rabbit hole."

Hellhare drove back the way he came, and then he held out his left hand, on his ring finger was his partner, B-G, bound on the effigy on the ring, and he held his fist out in front of them, "All right, pal, whip us a portal home."

"Righty-O!" the ring glowed and soon a glowing circle materialized some miles in front of the car. Lincoln zipped right through the portal as it dispersed in a cloud of red mist.

Soon he was back in Hell, the eerie red of the Pride Ring casting its carmine glow over Imp City, where he made his residence. He soon arrived on the parking spot of the building where I. M. P.'s office was located, locking it as he stepped out and headed back up to their floor.

Once inside and into the reception area, he could see Moxxie serenading Millie with some sappy tunes on his ukulele. A smile played on Hellhare's mouth as he shook his head in lighthearted disbelief, "Uncle, Auntie, you call this holding down the fort?"

"Well, there really wasn't much to do, nephew," Moxxie set the ukulele aside, "I mean besides a few phone calls that I've already put down on your list, keeping the armory and garage stocked, and the daily training you have me and Millie do every day that there isn't a job for us to do, we've just been here the whole day."

Millie leaned in on the desk, "And don't forget keeping the office safe from miscreants and disposing of their bodies."

Lincoln headed towards the door to the main office, as he opened the door, he could see no one inside, "Hey, where's Loona? I heard her over the comms earlier."

Moxxie glanced at Hellhare, "Oh she got bored teasing me all day and decided to go home early."

"Did she now?" Lincoln picked up the list on the reception desk with a list of callers and information, it seemed like there were only four since he went on the mission, "Hmm… well, business has been slow this week, I guess if there's nothing else to do, that would be the right call to make."

Millie sat atop Moxxie's lap, "So what's the plan now, nephew?"

"I think it's a safe bet that we can close up shop early today," Hellhare prepares to head out, "hopefully the next assignment can involve all of us together; I know you'd like that Auntie, and you would definitely like to see that, Uncle."

"I sure hope so nephew," Moxxie nuzzled into Millie's neck, drawing a giggle from her.

Lincoln heads for the exit, "Don't forget to lock up, you two, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Linky!" Millie waved goodbye.

"See you tomorrow, boss!" Moxxie picked his ukulele up again and continued his ditty with Millie.

As Hellhare was proceeding down the street to head home, he passed by one of his favorite sights – Blitzo and Jill (formerly the jilted human teacher Mrs. Mayberry) out on a date and painting the town red, and not with blood. Hellhare decided a little bit of fun before he headed back would be pretty nice right about now.

The imp and the sinner were seated by a table on an outdoor patio in a small, rustic eating establishment. Blitzo was chatting it up in his usual one-sided style that would probably irk most, but having known him for a year she had gotten used to it, and with help from a friend who also helped them with their matchmaking, made the otherwise zany imp a little more restrained with what he said, and Devil only knows that Blitzo gets in less trouble when he knew the times keeping his mouth shut saved his proverbial impish bacon.

A server approached them carrying a bottle of red wine labeled Stygian 666, "Evening sir, care for some cold, hard refreshment for tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure whatever, anyway…"

"Still a scatterbrained shit bird, aren't you, Blitzy?"

That drew his attention, "The fuck did you just-" he looked up to see Hellhare standing before him, with a fake handlebar mustache just below his little rabbit nose, "Hellhare, what's the idea of crashing my date and wearing that ridiculous moustache?"

"What, can't a guy drop by to see his bosom buddy on his date anymore and have fun dressing up while I'm at it?"

Some part of Blitzo wondered, albeit briefly, if this was karma for all those times he butted into Moxxie and Millie's personal lives.

"Haha, I kid, but you know I can't help but dote over you two, it just never gets old."

Blitzo rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Lincoln plucked the mustache from his face "Just finished my last job for the day, and surprisingly, it's been slim pickings all week."

"But what about all those flyers I made?" Blitzo was very proud of his flyers, even with all the misspellings and grammatical butchery upon it, though neither the imp nor the rabbit had realized that Moxxie had put them in the shredder a while back; he didn't have the heart to tell Hellhare that he did that either.

Jill was bemused by the unfolding scene, "It's nice to see you, Hellhare."

Lincoln took his hat off, held it to his chest and bowed respectfully towards her, "Enchanté, Jill, glad to see you, and to see you and Blitzo had fun this week."

"Thanks for giving him the week off, Hellhare, this one's been getting a bit highstrung were it not for that," she reached out and placed one hand on Blitzo's on their table.

"I am not…!" Blitzo stopped himself when he made eye contact with Jill, "Look, Lincoln, it's very nice to see you again and I appreciate you went out of your way to come say hello, but Jill and I here are still on our date and we'd like some…" Blitzo was gritting his teeth ever so slightly, "…fucking quality time, together, hm?"

Hellhare laughed heartily as he patted Blitzo's head, "All right you love birds," as Lincoln was down the sidewalk, he looked over his shoulder at Blitzo one more time and waved to the couple, "I'll see you next week, Blitzy!"

"Can you not call me that out in public!" Blitzo turned back to Jill, his voice now a bit calmer, "sorry about that, Jill."

She shook her head, "Don't worry about it Blitzo, it's the way you and Lincoln have been since you became best friends."

"I know," Blitzo looks aside with a wry smile, "it's just that he can a bit much, sometimes very anally so."

Hellhare walked a little further and eventually arrived in a park that clearly had seen better days, the trees were thick with leaves and cast-off branches were scattered beneath them, the grass and weeds were growing wild and sounds like vermin skittering about could be heard within the foliage. The streetlights positioned at various points were dim and flickered ominously in some spots, assorted detritus littered the pathways, graffiti of every stripe and color covered every conceivable inch of concrete or metal and the one restroom radiated with a foul smell if you got too close. The only thing of value was a dingy, old trailer unhitched and parked haphazardly upon a lawn.

In other words, home.

"Ah, it's great to be back, kid" B-G let out a yawn.

Lincoln took out his keys and opened the door to his trailer, "You going to retire for the night, B-G?"

"Yup, but if you need me, just holler and I'll come faster than time warp delivery," B-G fell silent as Hellhare stepped in.

Lincoln turned to the direction of his bed, and he could see Loona lying down on her side and facing away, she was holding onto his pillow, with both her hands and between her knees. He walked up to the bed and sat down by the edge, "Hey girl, your alpha's back."

Loona stirred from her half-sleep and turned around, and as soon as she saw that it was Hellhare, she immediately reached up and hugged him, snuggling her face into his belly, arms wrapped tight but thankfully not in a fighting manner, and was more like someone holding onto a treasured object, or in Loona's case, a treasured person.

"Were you worried about me, girl?" Lincoln reached down with his hand and started gently rubbing her chin, causing her tail to wag in delight. She instinctively dove down and started snuggling him, her nose getting a little close to the area in front of and below the belt.

"Whoa, slow down, girl!" he gently, but firmly, held onto her shoulders and had her sit up till they were eye-level, "Now, I know you're excited to, well, get down and jack dirty…" he cracked a naughty smile at that, "but first things first, I'm a little disappointed in you Loona, leaving work on your own before I came back."

She whimpered a little, looking aside to avoid his gaze, "Was it because you were worried about me because I went on a mission alone?" She nodded, even though Moxxie had said it was because she got bored laying into him, it wasn't really a big secret that Loona and Hellhare were tight, and that he was one of the few people whom she genuinely cared about. Loona wasn't quite ready to give up her image of being the tough lone-wolf goth girl, but she permitted herself to show a softer side towards her "owner" behind closed doors.

"Oh Loona, I know how much you care about me, and I'm flattered you were worried about me seeing as this was my first official assignment by myself, but you got nothing to worry about, your beau's packin' the heat, right here," he took off the harness bearing his boltgun, "here," showing off one of his biceps, "and especially down here." He pointed both his pointer fingers down south to his lover boy.

Loona giggled a little and leaned into him, playfully jabbing into his abdomen.

"But enough about me," he touched her hound snout with his rabbit nose, "who wants some belly rubs?"

Loona laid flat on her back, her dog lips in a big, wide grin and her tongue sticking out excitedly.

And that brings an end to our prologue chapter.

Sorry if this seemed like a whole lot and didn't go anywhere, I wrote this chapter mostly in order to get a feel for what I wanted out of the story, and because I wanted to get a feel for the Helluva Boss characters as much as possible, especially Blitzo, because he feels like the most difficult for me to write in a way that's true to him in canon and then figuring out how to develop his character independently from the show.

In any event, I hope this was a fun read for you as it was an interesting ride for me to write it. Any constructive criticism or suggestions will be welcome, and if I find it useful I will take it under serious consideration. Next chapter is where we dial back on the timeline a little and I start delving into where we all started and how everything ended up as it is now.

Stay tuned.

P. S. You are all probably wondering why I call this story an AU fanfic, "but as a crossover story, isn't it already an alternate universe fic?" You might be asking yourself? Well yes, but I also mean in the sense that it doesn't necessarily or strictly follow the rules of either of the shows in terms of their premise, background, systems, concepts, and characterization, particularly of Helluva Boss.

It is largely its own self-contained story that uses both shows as a template but diverges significantly as it goes on, Lincoln being a young adult in this story being just the start.