Chapter Text
I.
The moment Lucifer realized his mojo was gone, it shook him like a prepubescent male cumming over his first porn. There was no dramatic warning, no sudden shift in the air, no way to back down. It was just... gone.
For a brief moment, he thought Chloe had suddenly gained the ability to mojo him. Actually, he wondered if he had imagined it. Maybe it had been a mistake, a miscalculation. But then he realized—no. It hadn’t been.
“Oh, come on. You must have some preference. What do you truly desire?”
“I... I want to hɑvе sеx with you another four times. Six, actually.”
“What... Did I just mojo you?”
“I don't know. I…”
“You're messing with me.”
“Am I?”
“Yes! You're messing with me. You are so silly.”
Yet, he knew for a fact that he did not mess with her—and he wasn't the silly kind either.
And no matter how many times he tested it that day—the victim’s neighbor, random officers, Chloe, or even the very air he breathed—the truth became inescapable. Trying it on that famous soprano poor victim would’ve had the same negative result, actually. His powers were gone!
He had never anticipated that something as mundane as sex—vulnerable, heartfelt, fragile —could unravel him so completely. Still basking there, in the aftermath of their first time together, he felt utterly stripped. Powerless. The very thing that had always defined him, the supernatural allure that made people bend to his will, was no longer at his disposal. The moment they had shared, the vulnerability they had both stripped themselves off—along with their clothes, had somehow stolen his mojo. SHE had stolen his mojo—luckily, it only happened with her and not all of his ‘sex-ex’... he had tested that theory with Dr. Linda.
“Hold on. Do you think it's possible I've given my power to everyone I've ever had sеx with and just never knew it?”
“Uh... Who, me? No.”
“Well, we did the deed, several times, and in, you know, all sorts of positions.”
“Yes, I remember. How could I forget? Anyway... But, Lucifer, your mojo is like a superpower. I don't have it. Or do I? I guess I've never tried.”
“Well, let's try now. Come on. Lean in. Look into my eyes. Ask me what I desire.”
“This is good. I mean... Lucifer... What do you desire?”
“No. Nada. Totally limp.”
Anyway, for as long as he could remember, Lucifer had relied on his abilities. His mojo wasn’t just a power; it was his armor, his shield against the world. It was how he navigated every interaction, how he kept everyone—including himself—at arm's length. Without it, he was left feeling exposed. Not just to anyone around him, but to the parts of himself he kept carefully hidden.
The weight of it all settled over him. He had never felt more vulnerable. The Devil. The one who had always been in control, always able to twist situations to his favor, now had nothing. His powers were gone, and with them, his confidence.
Without it, he felt small, human, and utterly insignificant. He had always known that there was something deeply human about him—something that he despised—but now, that humanity was all he had left. And it terrified him.
How could he possibly let Chloe know that he, Lucifer Morningstar, was afraid? That he didn’t know how to face her, how to face himself, without his power? He couldn’t let her see this. Couldn’t let her see the cracks forming in his perfect façade. His mind reeled with all the things he could no longer hide. The fear, the doubt, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy.
He needed to get his mojo back. She had to pass it back to him, one way or another—though having sex the other way around was apparently not an option.
“As much fun as it is watching you use my… I mean, our, but really my mojo, I'd like it back. So... let's have sex again, me on top this time.”
“Do you really think this is going to work? As if your mojo is some sort of STD?”
“Well, we have to try something.”
“This is really getting to you, huh? Trust me, it's not like I don't want to have sex with you, because I really, really do, but... putting that kind of agenda on it, it just sucks all the fun out of it.”
Lucifer could feel Chloe's presence beside him. Her warmth. Her closeness. It should have been comforting, but instead, it felt like another layer of pressure. She was the reason he was standing here like this, after all. Or at least, that’s what he believed. The moment they had shared, the intimacy they had exchanged, had somehow stolen his mojo. SHE had stolen his mojo. His very sense of self had been chipped away in that single act.
Her touch, her words, her presence—all of it seemed to offer comfort, as if the loss of his mojo was no big deal. She didn’t seem to understand what it meant for him, how it stripped him of everything he had built around himself. She offered him reassurances, her belief that it didn’t matter.
But it did matter. It mattered more than anything. It was who he was.
And she didn’t see that. Didn’t see how deeply it affected him. How fragile he felt at that moment. She didn’t see it—at least, not fully.
It wasn’t until they walked into Dr. Linda’s office, the familiar weight of therapy hanging in the air, that Lucifer's fears were finally voiced aloud. Linda, ever the astute observer, didn't mince words.
“I'm thrilled, actually, to have someone rational weigh in on all of this and agree with this. I mean, Lucifer's being ridiculous, okay? Can you please tell him that it makes zero sense that I stole his mojo during sеx?”
“Okay, well, actually, I don't think Lucifer is being... that ridiculous.
“You don't?”
“No. It's not like we covered celestial powers in med school. But having sеx with someone you truly care about requires surrendering control, giving up power. And on an emotional level, Lucifer's reasoning does make some amount of sense. And the fact that he came to this emotionally mature insight on his own... Impressive. Shows a sign that he's grown.”
°°°
“Okay, so, look. Try to put yourself in Lucifer's shoes. For instance, what if your gun and badge were taken away, only to be given to Lucifer?”
“Liking the sound of that. Go on.”
“I'm sorry, I'm-- I'm not following.”
“Being a detective is a big part of your identity. It empowers you. Now imagine losing it. Okay, Lucifer's issues can sometimes seem... "Outlandish" would be putting it mildly. But the one thing that I've learned is that there's usually something buried underneath, sometimes deep, deep, deep down, but ultimately meaningful, and worth trying to understand.”
And for the first time after that, Chloe looked at him—really looked at him—as if she understood the gravity of the situation. Maybe, just maybe, she finally saw how much of Lucifer was tied to that power. Maybe now she would understand that this wasn’t just some trivial loss. This wasn’t a small thing that could be easily brushed off.
For Lucifer, hearing Dr. Linda validate his deepest fear—validate his loss—was both a relief and a new kind of weight. It was confirmation that he wasn’t just overreacting, that his fears were real. But more than that, it was the first time Chloe had truly seen just how far his sense of self went beyond his charming façade.
And so, the day had been a slow crawl through a fog of disorientation and frustration. Because Chloe hadn’t stolen his mojo, no. She had just kind of… returned it against him. She was only able to mojo him. No one else. Which only made him feel worse.
“...he wasn't entranced by my mojo. He was just starstruck. That's why it never worked when I tried it on Niels. I've never had mojo.”
“It worked on me. I felt it. Look, try it again. Go on, look at me.”
“What do you desire?”
“I… I... want this to stop. I can't bloody believe this. I've never been more upset to be right.”
Chloe had tried, bless her heart, to reassure him every step of the way. She went out of her way to make him feel important—like he still mattered, even without his mojo. She complimented him, treated him like he was still the same devilish partner she had always known. She reminded him that his value wasn’t in his powers, that there was more to him than just the control he once wielded over others.
“You know, I've been thinking, and Linda does have a point. Feeling powerless is no joke. I just... I'm so used to dismissing your crazy antics that I haven't been taking you—”
“Seriously? A gun?”
“Well, I like to call it "our" gun. Don't worry, it's all properly permitted. Well, outlandish, for sure, but... if this is the emotional crutch that you feel you need to deal with the loss of your mojo, then I will do my very best to be understanding.”
“Thank you.”
°°°
“Listen, Lucifer, I... I'm sorry you're going through this, but we are gonna figure this out together. As a team. Everything's gonna be okay, all right? I promise.”
°°°
“My wonderful partner here speaks every language. I'm so lucky you're here.”
°°°
“He has many connections, he can grant favors, and obviously is very charming. He's like my very own Swiss Army knife.”
But no matter how many times she reassured him, Lucifer couldn’t shake the gnawing sense of inadequacy that plagued him. The fact remained that something crucial had been taken from him—something that was integral to his very being. And while Chloe’s words were meant to comfort him, they fell flat.
He still felt small.
He couldn’t help but notice the way she looked at him, as if everything was normal. As if he was still the same Lucifer Morningstar—the suave, confident, invincible Devil. But he wasn’t. Not anymore.
The feeling of being a fraud consumed him. He wasn’t sure how to handle it—how to reconcile the Lucifer he used to be with the one standing here now. The one without his powers, adrift in a world that suddenly felt far too big and far too overwhelming.
His thoughts spiraled further as the day wore on, each minute intensifying the feeling that he was losing himself. He couldn’t pretend to be the same Lucifer that everyone had once known. He couldn’t pretend to be the Devil without the devilish mojo that had always defined him.
And yet, Chloe was still there. She was still offering him those steady assurances, those gentle reminders that he was enough. It wasn’t enough . The pieces of him that made him feel powerful were gone, and there was nothing she could say or do to fix that. Unfortunately.
The drive back from the crime scene was quiet, the kind of quiet that wasn’t comfortable. Chloe glanced sideways at Lucifer, who was leaning against the passenger-side door, his gaze distant. The city lights played over his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw and the slight crease in his brow.
He hadn’t said much since they left, a stark contrast to the usual chatter and sharp quips that filled their car rides. For someone who never seemed at a loss for words, Lucifer’s silence was unnerving.
She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. She wanted to help him. She needed to help him . But no matter how hard she tried to reassure him, to remind him of his worth, it never seemed to reach him. Every compliment she gave, every attempt to make him feel like he still mattered, seemed to fall flat. He would offer her a fleeting smile, a polite “thank you,” and then retreat back into the depths of his own thoughts.
It wasn’t like him.
Lucifer was usually so open with her, so unfiltered and unapologetically himself. She’d always admired that about him, even when it drove her crazy. But now... now he was closed off, his silence deafening. It was like he didn’t trust her enough to let her in, and that hurt more than she cared to admit.
She glanced at him again, her heart aching at the sight of his slumped shoulders and distant expression. He looked so... defeated. It was a look she’d rarely seen on him, and it unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
“Lucifer,” she finally said, breaking the silence. “Are you okay?”
It was a dumb question, she knew that. Of course, he wasn’t okay. But it was all she could think to say at that moment.
He didn’t respond right away, his gaze still fixed on the passing scenery. For a moment, she thought he was going to ignore her entirely, but then he sighed, a long, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world.
“I’m fine, Detective,” he said, his voice lacking its usual charm.
She frowned. “You don’t sound fine.”
He finally turned to look at her, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since they got in the car. “And how exactly would you like me to sound?” he asked, his tone sharper than she expected.
The question caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. “I just... I want you to talk to me. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you’re going through, I want to help. But I can’t do that if you keep shutting me out.”
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You’re already doing more than enough, Detective. Really, I’m the one who should be apologizing. All this,” he gestured vaguely, “melodrama over something as trivial as losing my mojo. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I’m ridiculous.”
“No, you’re not,” she said firmly, her grip on the wheel tightening. “You’re allowed to feel this way, Lucifer. Losing your mojo—it’s a big deal. I get that. But you’re more than your powers. You’re still my irreplaceable partner.”
“Am I?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Her heart broke at the vulnerability in his tone. She wanted to reach out, to take his hand and remind him that he wasn’t alone, but she wasn’t sure he’d let her.
“Yes, you are,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You’re still the same infuriating, brilliant, infuriatingly brilliant partner I’ve always known. And I’m not going anywhere, mojo or no mojo. I'm with you in this.”
He didn’t respond, his gaze returning to the window. But as the silence stretched between them once more, she couldn’t help but wonder if her words had made any difference at all. She could sense the weight he carried, even if he wouldn’t share it.
She had tried earlier, at the scene, to coax something out of him—a joke, a complaint, anything —but… nothing .
Everything she said only seemed to bounce off him, like he couldn’t believe them, or worse, like he didn’t think they were meant for him.
She sighed, her heart heavy with frustration and concern. Lucifer always had an uncanny ability to lock her out when it mattered most.
The quiet stretched on, broken only by the steady hum of the engine. She stole another glance at him. His fingers were drumming absently against his knee, a nervous tick she rarely saw in him. His shoulders were drawn tight, as if he were bracing for something, though she couldn’t imagine what. She wanted to push him, to demand he open up, but before she could, his voice broke the silence—a quiet, raw confession.
“You don't need me. I’m just a liability now.”
Her breath hitched, and her grip on the wheel faltered for a moment. The words cut through her like a blade, so vivid, so Lucifer , that they left her reeling. She glanced at him, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Lucifer,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern. “That’s not true. You know that, right?”
He turned to her sharply, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s not true?”
“What you just said,” she replied, giving him a quick glance before returning her focus to the road.
He tilted his head, studying her. “Detective, I didn’t say anything.”
Her heart skipped a beat, a flicker of doubt creeping in. “You... you didn’t?”
“No.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to gauge her reaction.
Chloe’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, her stomach twisting. Her mind was obviously playing tricks on her, echoing her own fears for him.
“Sorry,” she muttered quickly, trying to brush it off. “Must’ve been my imagination.”
Lucifer let out a low, humorless chuckle, turning his gaze back to the window. “Well, aren’t we both in fascinatingly introspective moods tonight.”
She forced herself to focus on the road, but her thoughts churned relentlessly.
“I'm only adding concern to you, Detective… what a fraud I am.”
Chloe’s pulse quickened, and her knuckles whitened on the wheel. She swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward him again. Lucifer seemed completely unaware, his focus drifting back to the window.
“Lucifer,” she said, her voice firm. “You’re not a liability. And you’re definitely not a fraud.”
He stiffened beside her, his head snapping toward her. His dark eyes searched hers, narrowing slightly. “What makes you say that?”
Her heart raced as she tried to keep her composure. “Because it’s the truth,” she said, holding his gaze.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Lucifer’s expression slowly shifted, a hint of suspicion flashing across his face. “It feels like you're reading my mind…”
A beat of silence. Lucifer stiffened next to her.
“Bloody hell! You’re actually reading my mind!”