I have an odd request. I would like to see Ratio x Reader x Jiaoqiu. The two docs start working together bc the Intelligencia Guild heard of Jiaoqiu’s discovery of the Crimson Moon and they want to try and figure out what makes it able to fix Moon Rage and how to synthesize it to treat other Foxians with the same affliction. The Reader is Ratio's personal assistant and is already in an established relationship with him when the three of them meet.
The Bridge Between Two Worlds
Summary: When Dr. Ratio and his assistant — you — travel to the Xianzhou Yaoqing to investigate Jiaoqiu’s legendary “Crimson Moon” formula, sparks fly between two brilliant but wildly different healers. Ratio’s relentless logic clashes with Jiaoqiu’s intuitive, heart-driven methods, leaving you to mediate the growing tension. But as the research progresses, philosophy and science intertwine, and what began as rivalry shifts into respect… and something far more intimate. Between Ratio’s intensity, Jiaoqiu’s compassion, and you caught between them, a fragile but powerful bond begins to form.
Tags: Ratio x Reader x Jiaoqiu, Established Relationship, Slow Burn Polyamory, Rivalry To Respect To Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family Vibes, Philosophical Debates, Emotional Intimacy, Subtle Physical Intimacy, Soft Angst, Hopeful Resolution.
Warnings: Medical Themes, Mortality Discussion, Jealousy And Possessiveness, Emotional Vulnerability, Slow Burn Romance Dynamics, Romantic Tension.
The halls of the Alchemy Commission were alive with the sounds of bubbling cauldrons, the clink of porcelain vials, and the low hum of cultivators discussing formulas with measured precision. But today, the air felt heavier—charged not with the serenity of scholarly pursuit, but with the tension of two intellectual worlds about to collide.
You adjusted the satchel hanging from your shoulder, careful not to disturb the neatly stacked documents within. As Dr. Ratio’s assistant, you had long grown accustomed to the rhythm of his stride, the cadence of his sharp words, and the eccentricity of his perfectionism. Yet even you could sense his irritation at having been summoned to the Xianzhou Yaoqing.
“The Intelligentsia Guild should not be chasing fairy tales,” Ratio muttered, his voice rich with disdain as his long fingers brushed over the railing. “A moon that cures madness? A fruit that unravels inherited afflictions? Hmph. And yet they send me.”
“They sent you because if there’s truth in it, you’ll uncover it,” you said softly. You’d learned long ago not to take his arrogance personally. For all his sharp edges, Ratio was a man who believed deeply in knowledge as a light for all.
His gaze softened briefly as it turned to you. “Ever the diplomat. At least I know one of us retains tact.”
The two of you arrived at the appointed chamber, its great wooden doors carved with nine-square grids and curling foxian motifs. Inside, the scent of herbs and simmering broth filled the air, comforting in its warmth. At the center of the room stood a man—his hair long, his fox tail swaying gently, his posture relaxed yet dignified.
Jiaoqiu.
He stood with eyes closed, his expression serene. The feather fan in his hand traced subtle arcs through the air, as though drawing invisible diagrams. Despite the calm smile that touched his lips, there was an unmistakable weight in the way he carried himself, as though every gesture balanced against some unseen burden.
“Dr. Ratio,” Jiaoqiu greeted, voice low and mellifluous. “And his assistant, I presume. Welcome to the Yaoqing. I trust your journey was not too unkind?”
Ratio tilted his head, scrutinizing the foxian healer with the same keen gaze he would give an ancient manuscript. “Kindness is a subjective term. Let us dispense with pleasantries—I am here to see this Crimson Moon of yours.”
Unfazed, Jiaoqiu chuckled softly. “Straight to business, then. Very well. But understand this: what you seek is not merely a cure, but a philosophy. Healing cannot be separated from the heart.”
Ratio scoffed. “Philosophy does not treat madness. Chemistry does.”
And just like that, the two worlds clashed—sharp, rational intellect against gentle, soul-touched healing.
Over the following days, you found yourself caught between their storms. Jiaoqiu’s methods were unlike anything Ratio had studied: food-based medicine brewed in cauldrons, carefully timed simmering processes that relied on intuition as much as measurement, ingredients chosen not only for their properties but for their symbolic resonance.
Ratio criticized every lack of precision.
Jiaoqiu countered with quiet parables and soft-spoken barbs.
And you—stuck in the middle—watched, listened, mediated.
One evening, after a long day of experiments that ended in yet another stalemate, you found Jiaoqiu seated in the courtyard garden. Moonlight painted his pale hair silver as he listened to the night breeze, his fan resting across his lap. His eyes remained closed, as always, but you noticed the slight tilt of his head, as though he were attuned to footsteps.
“You walk lighter than Dr. Ratio,” he said. “But I could still hear you.”
You smiled faintly, settling beside him. “He doesn’t really mean to be abrasive, you know.”
“Mm. I can tell. His arrogance is…protective, in a way. The fortress of a man who fears being dismissed.” His voice lowered, almost tender. “I recognize it. My own fortress is gentler in appearance, but no less thick-walled.”
There was silence between you, save for the rustle of leaves. Then Jiaoqiu spoke again, softer this time.
“You care for him deeply.”
It wasn’t a question. And though his eyes were closed, you felt as if he saw you completely.
“Yes,” you admitted. “Sometimes he frustrates me. But he…challenges me. Makes me feel like I’m always moving forward.”
“And yet,” Jiaoqiu murmured, “I hear in your voice the yearning for rest. For someone who holds still with you, rather than pushes you.”
His words struck too close to your heart, and you looked away, unsettled. But before you could respond, a familiar voice sliced through the night.
“There you are,” Ratio said, striding into the courtyard, his sharp gaze moving between the two of you. “Conspiring behind my back, are we?”
“Merely resting,” Jiaoqiu replied, unbothered. “A healer requires moments of stillness. Perhaps even a doctor does too.”
Ratio narrowed his eyes. But you caught the flicker of something else in them—wariness, maybe even jealousy.
The breakthrough came a week later.
After countless failures, the three of you finally managed to stabilize a Crimson Moon extract into a formula. Ratio’s meticulous measurements, your careful observations, Jiaoqiu’s instinctive balancing of essences—it all coalesced into something stable, something real.
For once, even Ratio fell silent, staring at the glowing liquid as though it were a star plucked from the heavens.
“…You may not be a charlatan after all,” he admitted grudgingly.
Jiaoqiu’s lips curved in amusement. “High praise, from the doctor of eight degrees.”
But his smile faltered, and his voice grew distant. “And yet, I cannot celebrate. For what use is healing, if those we heal only return to die in battle?”
The heaviness in his tone silenced the room. You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing against his. His fingers tensed at the contact, then relaxed, curling faintly around yours.
Ratio’s eyes flickered to the sight—your hand in Jiaoqiu’s—and for once, he did not scold, did not retreat. Instead, he stepped closer, placing his own hand gently over yours both.
A rare vulnerability softened his expression. “Perhaps…healing is not futile, if it buys even a moment of peace. A reprieve, however brief. That is knowledge worth preserving.”
The silence that followed was heavy, charged. You felt Jiaoqiu’s warmth on one side, Ratio’s intensity on the other—the scholar and the healer, so different yet so alike in their loneliness. And between them, you, the bridge they had not expected but now could not ignore.
The days after blurred, tension giving way to something subtler, something unspoken. Jiaoqiu began addressing you not just as Ratio’s assistant, but as his confidant. Ratio, for all his pride, no longer snapped when you lingered too long with the foxian healer. And slowly, an unsteady balance formed—one where hands brushed during late-night experiments, where words softened, where rivalry transformed into respect.
And perhaps, just perhaps, something more.
The night of your departure from the Yaoqing, Jiaoqiu stood with you both beneath the lantern-lit arches. His fan flicked open, though his eyes remained closed.
“You two are…an odd pair,” he mused. “A man who worships logic, and one who serves him with quiet devotion. And yet…” He tilted his head, a small, wistful smile on his lips. “…perhaps there is room for a third voice in that harmony.”
You looked at Ratio, expecting his usual retort. But instead, he met your gaze, then Jiaoqiu’s, and for once, he simply nodded.
“There is,” he said softly.
And for the first time, you realized the future no longer belonged to two, but three.
Steve Ditko didn't write the scripts for all that many of the Marvel stories he drew, but he did for his Captain America story in 1991's Marvel Comics Presents #81. Inks by Terry Austin.
Since we have Kaveh and Veritas as a poly couple. What about Alhaitham and Argenti? It might be a little stretch but, seems like a fun and interesting dynamic.
Anyway headcannons for a relationship with Alhaitham and Argenti!
Roses and Riddles
Tags: Argenti x Reader x Alhaitham, Polyamory, Headcanons, Slow Burn, Opposites Attract, Fluff, Domestic Moments, Protective Lovers, Philosophical Debates, Sword Fights & Sparring, Soft & Subtle Affection, Found Family Vibes.
Warnings: Mild Bickering, Protectiveness,
Different Love Languages, Slight Angst, Emotional Whiplash.
You're caught between two vastly different yet equally devoted lovers—Argenti, the poetic and chivalrous knight, and Alhaitham, the pragmatic and intellectual scholar. Despite their contrasts, they form an unexpectedly balanced trio, each complementing the other in unique ways.
Argenti expresses his love through grand gestures, poetic praise, and unwavering devotion. Alhaitham, on the other hand, prefers quiet acts of service, logical discussions, and an unspoken understanding that speaks volumes.
While Argenti cherishes beauty and righteousness, Alhaitham values knowledge and reason. You're often the mediator when their philosophies clash—though deep down, they respect each other immensely.
Mornings are a mix of chaos and tranquility. Argenti wakes up early, eager to greet the sun with poetic musings, while Alhaitham groggily pulls you back into bed, muttering about how it’s "too early for theatrics." You’re left to decide whether to bask in the sunrise with Argenti or steal a few more moments of sleep with Alhaitham.
Sparring sessions between Argenti and Alhaitham are a spectacle—one fights with passion and righteousness, the other with calculated precision. They may argue over techniques, but both agree on one thing: making sure you can defend yourself.
Evenings often consist of soft moments—Argenti strumming a lute, attempting to compose a ballad in your honor, while Alhaitham sits beside you, absorbed in a book, one hand absentmindedly tracing circles on your palm.
When Alhaitham and Argenti argue (which happens often), it’s usually about their vastly different approaches to life. Alhaitham dismisses overly sentimental ideals, while Argenti sees him as too cold. You have to remind them that love exists in many forms.
Despite their bickering, both are fiercely protective of you. If anyone dares to insult or harm you, Argenti will challenge them to a duel, while Alhaitham will dismantle them with cutting words (or, if necessary, a well-placed attack).
Stargazing together: Argenti waxing poetic about constellations and destiny, Alhaitham explaining the science behind the stars, and you caught between admiration and amusement.
Argenti teaches you both elegant waltzes, twirling you effortlessly, while Alhaitham—reluctantly—learns, only for your sake.
Late-night intellectual and philosophical debates where Argenti passionately defends the ideals of beauty, and Alhaitham challenges them with logic, only for the discussion to end with you pulling them both into bed, sighing, “Enough, you two.”
In the end, despite their differences, Argenti and Alhaitham love you in their own ways, and your relationship is one of balance—poetry and logic, passion and reason, devotion and quiet understanding.
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