Twas a swelteringly beautiful summer day in the loud and lively town of Royal Woods, Michigan, one of those perfect days for cartoon shenanigans. 11-year-old Lincoln Loud sat up in his bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Ah, summer vacation. No school, no homework, no worries! Just endless possibilities for fun and relaxation. And you know what the best part is? Today's the day mom said she'd buy my favorite grape popsicles if I survived the week without any of my sisters killing each other or breaking my stuff. And ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to announce that as of O-seven hundred hours this morning, Operation Grape Popsicle is a resounding success! Now I've just gotta make it downstairs and out the front door in one piece. Wish me luck!"

Oh Lincoln. You and luck.

Lincoln hopped out of bed with an optimistic spring in his step. But as soon as he opened his bedroom door, a cacophony of chaos crashed over him like a tidal wave. The hallway was a war zone of sibling squabbles and sensory overload.

The twins, Lola and Lana, were engaged in a fierce tug-of-war over a glittery hairbrush that sent them tumbling end over end. Lisa's latest experiment had gained sentience and was oozing a trail of noxious green slime down the stairs. Lynn ricocheted off the walls, energetically bouncing a soccer ball that collided with Lincoln's forehead.

"Goal! Thanks for the assist, bro!" Lynn called over her shoulder as she cartwheeled away.

"No problem..." Lincoln mumbled, seeing stars.

He stumbled past Luna, who was holding an impromptu jam session that rattled the family portraits on the walls. A pair of Luan's chattering wind-up dentures skittered between his feet, nipping at his heels.

Lincoln pressed himself flat against the wall as Leni came barreling past with an armful of dresses, fretting about being late for work at the mall. "Oops, sorry Linky!"

As he navigated past a rolling Geo, dancing to avoid stepping on the critter's ball, Lincoln jumped in fright

"Sigh."

As he made sure his heart still worked, he spotted the most obvious sight yet: his little gothling sister Lucy, sat crosslegged in the bathroom, surrounded not by black candles and pentacles, but bizarrely Islamic symbols and a tarot card that displayed a Persian-looking devil.

"Uh, Lucy? Everything alright?"

"Don't mind me. Just trying to summon a djinn."

"...Huh." Actually, out of all the weird things Lucy's ever invoked, a djinn actually sounded cool. Alas, he was on a mission.

Finally, Lincoln took a deep breath and prepared to bolt for the kitchen. The tantalizing promise of grape popsicles awaited, if only he could navigate this final stretch. But suddenly, a blood-curdling shriek rang out:

"WHERE IS MY PHONE?! I NEED TO POST MY DAILY SELFIE OR MY FOLLOWERS WILL THINK I'VE DIED!"

It was Lori, and the raw force of her hysteria hit like an earthquake, knocking picture frames off the walls and light fixtures from the ceiling. Lincoln lost his footing and stumbled backwards down the stairs, landing in an undignified heap.

"Ugh... just another typical morning," he groaned to the audience, peeling his cheek off the carpet. "But no way am I throwing in the towel yet! Those grape popsicles will be mine!"

With renewed determination, Lincoln army-crawled through the living room, narrowly dodging Lily's odorous diaper bombs and the snapping jaws of Charles and Cliff as they wrestled over a rawhide bone. He had just managed to get his fingers on the front doorknob when suddenly the door burst open with a bang, sending him rocketing off the front porch like a pinball.

KABOOM! A furious explosion of sparks and smoke erupted from Lisa's underground lab, blasting a gaping hole through the roof and engulfing the entire house in a mushroom cloud of ash and debris. The sheer force launched Lincoln skywards like a human cannonball. "AHHHHHHH!" he wailed as he hurtled head over heels across the neighborhood.

CRASH! Lincoln face-planted right in the middle of Mr. Grouse's prize petunias with a spectacular splash of dirt. Everything went black.

Lincoln came to in a dark void. Some joker in a white suit was hovering there, grinning like he knew the world's funniest joke.

"Who the heck are you?" Lincoln asked.

"Name's Alastor, kid. I'm your guardian demon. Ya know, from the underworld?" The demon had a Brooklyn wiseguy accent straight out of a gangster flick.

"You don't look like any demon I've ever seen," Lincoln said.

Alastor raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And just how many demons have you seen, short stack?"

Lincoln crossed his arms defiantly. "Uh, hello? With a sister like Lucy, I've seen loads!"

The demon let out a raspy chuckle. "Touché, kid. But lemme tell ya, those discount Halloween store decorations ain't got nothin' on the real deal." He gestured to himself with a theatrical flourish.

"Ooookay... so, what do you want with me exactly?" Lincoln asked.

Alastor slung an arm around Lincoln's shoulders conspiratorially. "Here's the rub, Lincoln m'boy. You're a good kid stuck in a certifiable madhouse 24/7. Your sisters are a bunch of pint-sized energy vampires sucking ya dry. You're overdue for an upgrade, capiche?"

"An upgrade?"

"Bingo! I'm talkin' superpowers, baby! A little extra oomph to give you a fighting chance in the wacky warzone you call home. The way I see it, an uber-powerful Lincoln is just the kinda fly in the ointment the Loud House needs to keep things interestin'."

Lincoln's eyes widened. "Superpowers? For real? Whoa... what's in it for you though?"

Alastor waved a hand dismissively. "Let's just say watchin' the ensuing hullabaloo tickles my funny bone– and I ain't laughin'. I'm a mischief connoisseur. Plus, your sis Lucy keeps summonin' my wife durin' her séances tryin' to get dirt on the netherworld for her poems. I figure steerin' a little extra bedlam her way is the perfect payback, see?"

Lincoln considered the bizarre proposition for a long moment, weighing potential pratfalls against the undeniable luster of having powers like his beloved comic book heroes. "So these powers... they'll help me deal with my sisters' brand of lunacy better?"

"Now you're on the trolley!" the demon winked. "And don't worry, these ain't your garden variety powers, but handcrafted doozies that yours truly picked out just for you. You'll be the toast of the town! The bee's knees! The dog's bollocks—"

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," Lincoln interrupted. "You got yourself a deal, Mr. Alastor." They shook hands, Alastor's clammy ethereal grip sending a shiver down Lincoln's spine.

"Swell! This is gonna be a real beam-bender, I tell ya! I'll be in touch, kid. Until then, enjoy the new juice!"

With that, Alastor snapped his fingers and vanished in a puff of acrid smoke. Lincoln coughed, waving away the residual blue haze. He couldn't suppress a giddy grin as his body thrummed with strange new energies.

Maybe being stuck in the middle of his sisters' particular brand of pandemonium wouldn't be so bad now that he had a secret weapon. Then again, if there's one thing Lincoln had learned growing up in the Loud House, it was that nothing ever went as planned.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?" he remarked to the unseen audience with a wry smile before standing up and marching home to put his newfound powers to the test.

Lincoln awoke, resting in an outdoor hammock with bandages and Bun Bun by his side. Aw, how sweet. He also noticed a handwritten eulogy signed by "Lucy L" stuffed by his head.

"Oh, okay, Luce. I gotchu."

He stood on the front porch of the Loud House, steeling himself for the impending insanity within. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside, the familiar cacophony of his sisters' antics washing over him.

"I hope these powers are all they're cracked up to be," he muttered under his breath as he surveyed the chaos.

Suddenly, a barrage of high-pitched squeals and oinks assaulted his eardrums. Lincoln whirled around to see Luan chasing a small pig around the living room, the poor creature adorned in a makeshift karate uniform.

"Hey Lincoln, check it out! I'm teaching this little piggy some martial arts moves. I call it PORK-FU!" Luan cackled maniacally at her own awful pun.

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Luan, that's just terrible. Even for you."

"Aw c'mon, bro! Don't be such a boar!" Luan guffawed, slapping her knee. The pig, sensing its chance for escape, made a frantic dash between her legs.

A glint appeared in Lincoln's eye. Time to put these newfangled abilities to the test. Concentrating hard, he willed the pig to levitate off the ground. To his amazement, the porcine pupil began floating in midair, letting out startled squeals.

"Wh-what the?!" Luan gaped at the gravity-defying pig, her eyes bugging out comically.

With a sly grin, Lincoln made the pig perform a series of comical kung-fu poses, complete with Bruce Lee sound effects. "Looks like your student has become the master, Luan!"

Luan stared slack-jawed as the pig executed a perfect aerial roundhouse kick across her cheek before gently floating back down to the floor and scurrying away.

"Now that's what I call a CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN BACON!" Lincoln chortled triumphantly.

For once, Luan was speechless, her mind visibly struggling to process the surreal spectacle she'd just witnessed. She pressed her cheek where the pig's foot had made its light impact. "Wha…?"

Suddenly, a piercing wail erupted from upstairs. "LINCOLN! WHERE'S MY GLITTER?!"

Lola. Of course. Lincoln smirked to himself, a wicked plan taking shape. Having superpowers was going to make dealing with his sisters' incessant demands a whole lot more entertaining.

"Just a sec, Lola!" he called back innocently. "I'll help you look!"

With a snap of his fingers, every speck of glitter in the house magically flew out of its respective container and swirled through the air in a dazzling tornado of sparkles. Lola's delighted squeals quickly morphed into shrieks of confusion and outrage as the glitter cyclone whipped through her room, coating every surface in a blinding sheen of pink and gold.

"LINCOLN! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"Oops, my bad!" Lincoln snickered, not sounding the least bit sorry. "Guess I don't know my own strength!"

She wasn't angry. That was just plum bizarre.

As the glitter tornado dissipated, Lincoln heard a string of muffled curses emanating from Lynn and Lucy's room. Poking his head in, he saw Lynn furiously brushing glitter out of her sports equipment while Lucy stood in the corner, her normally pale face tinged with an annoyed flush as she tried to shake the sparkly substance out of her pitch-black hair.

"Sigh. Even my dark aura is no match for this infernal glitter," Lucy droned. "Lincoln, you have invoked the wrath of the spirits. Prepare to face the consequences," Lucy intoned ominously, her voice carrying an extra edge of irritation.

Lynn, still furiously brushing glitter from her sports gear, whipped her head around to glare at Lincoln. "What's she talking about, Stinkoln? What did you do?"

Lincoln laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Who, me? Nothing! Just a little harmless prank!"

Lynn narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Well, whatever it is, you're gonna pay for it! C'mon Lucy, let's teach our dear brother a lesson!"

The two sisters lunged at Lincoln from opposite sides, but he simply grinned and held out his hands. Lynn and Lucy froze in midair, suddenly finding themselves unable to move.

"Hey! What the heck?!" Lynn struggled against the invisible force holding her aloft.

Lincoln chuckled, casually manipulating his sisters' limbs like a puppet master. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them twirling around the room in a dizzying ballet, their bodies contorting into comical poses.

"Lincoln! Release us from this infernal dance at once!" Lucy demanded, her monotone giving way to a rare note of alarm.

Finally, Lincoln maneuvered the two sisters into a tangled pretzel of limbs before gently setting them back down on the floor. Lynn and Lucy struggled to disentangle themselves, their faces flushed with equal parts exertion and indignation.

"Ooh, just wait till I get my hands on you!" Lynn seethed, shaking her fist at Lincoln. Yet the boy step on Lucy's head and have Lynn a fresh noogie as he passed on by.

Feeling immensely pleased with himself, Lincoln sauntered out into the hallway, only to come face to face with Lisa. The diminutive genius had her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in a look of smug satisfaction.

"Well, well, well. It seems our resident male-sibling has somehow acquired a range of psychic superpowers of unknown origin," she stated matter-of-factly.

Lincoln's jaw dropped. "How did you—?"

"Oh please, it was child's play to deduce, given the flagrant display of paranormal activity occurring within the household," Lisa scoffed.

Lucy materialized beside them, still coated head to toe in glitter. "They were granted to him by infernal forces," she proclaimed dramatically. "I sensed the dark energy the moment he returned."

The rest of the Loud sisters, drawn by the commotion, began to gather in the hallway, their eyes wide with astonishment.

"Superpowers?"

"No way!"

"Lincoln, is this true?!"

Grinning sheepishly, Lincoln decided there was no point in trying to hide it any longer. Rising into the air, he hovered a few feet off the ground, relishing the chorus of awed gasps from his audience.

"Yep, it's true! Looks like I'm not just the man with the plan anymore. I'm the man with the powers!" He puffed out his chest proudly.

The sisters erupted into a clamor of excited chatter, all talking over one another.

"OMG Lincoln, that's literally amazing!"

"Dude, you gotta let me write a song about this!"

"Ooh, we totes need to design you a superhero costume!"

"I wonder if there's a way to monetize this..."

"You're gonna be a star, Linky! Everyone's gonna adore you!"

"Winky wins!"

As his sisters swarmed around him, peppering him with questions and demands, Lincoln couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease. Definitely needed to get a feel for all this first. And definitely need to make sure he didn't, you know, sign away his soul to the Devil.

Author's Notes: I've been putting this fic off for nearly a year now. It came to me relatively early in the "Super Loud" boom, and had nothing to do with it.

Lincoln has superpowers now. No, he will not use them wisely.

But this is a Saccharine Melody story, so surely Lucy's going to lose somehow. It will be humiliating and she will have no reason being the deuteragonist of a story like this, but guess what: ya daddy.

And you're right. Unless you remember the plan I had or the images made, I guarantee you have no idea what I plan for her this time around. It is so out of left field that thinking about it makes me laugh.

Lastly, no, it's not THAT Alastor. I quite enjoy Hazbin Hotel, yes, but this isn't a crossover.