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undetaqted.bsky.social
taq
@undetaqted.bsky.social
280 followers 86 following 210 posts
minors dni
ao3.org/users/taq/works
pfp from @khannolini.bsky.social‬ from this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62888110
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undetaqted.bsky.social
as birdsong

after everything, caitlyn shoots again.

a little post-canon caitvi character study ft. Caitlyn's whistling bullets
archiveofourown.org/works/74189656
She is well aware that she is being difficult. It would not be the first time someone has described her as that in more polite words, nor, Caitlyn suspects, will it be the last time someone does so. She is not trying to be difficult on purpose—there is rather no point in that and she has no desire to add to the stresses that those around her are already suffering. If anything, she'd much rather they cease this ridiculous babying and let her do things that will help. She's healing, yes, but she's not incapacitated. She's wounded, yes, but she's not immobile. She has two good hands, half of a good leg, a good eye, and a brain that is gnawing desperately at the bars of its enclosure, rattling against the inside of her skull. She can't sit still, she finds it so difficult to hold her tongue and stars above, she's trying. She really is.
November 14, 2025 at 4:54 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
in your hands

soft dom/service top vi, sub caitlyn

(writing the #caitvi fics I want to read)
archiveofourown.org/works/74104551
"I can hear you thinking," comes Vi's voice from right by her temple. Caitlyn sighs. It is true. She is, indeed, still thinking about what the Councilors said at the meeting. And then once she was done tossing those words around in her head, she'd started thinking about what the Masons Guild had mentioned. Then onwards to the matter of the tunnel inspections. Further forays into requisitions. Funding concerns. Training issues. The slow way things have been changing, how everything is moving but not quite fast— The nip of teeth to the shell of her ear has her eye snapping back to Vi's. In the light of their bedroom Vi's eyes are the shade of the clouds before dawn, a clear pond under a freshly rained sky, the low bubbling of the brook that freezes over only in the deepest depths of winter. "You're still thinking," Vi says with that soft, wide smile, hands warm as they run down her sides, slow and deliberate. "Want some help with that?"
November 12, 2025 at 9:17 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
a little post-canon caitvi getting into shenanigans for another tumblr ask
She doesn't care how much Caitlyn likes the little twerp. The next time she sees Ezreal, Vi is going to twist his stupid little grinning blond head off of his shoulders, knock a couple of those shiny teeth out of his mouth, maybe grab his shoulders and rattle his brain so hard it grows a few braincells. She's not usually—ok, that's a lie, she usually doesn't give too much of a shit about violence so she can't even say she's not usually like that but god, if that pipsqueak doesn't come get them in the next few minutes she is going to have to murder him after. Fair's fair. Caitlyn's still somewhere else, in some other room, taken away by their captors and if Vi thinks about that for a moment too long she might just implode. It's not her fault, Cait would say, but in a way it is her fucking fault for not being able to keep her mouth shut, for not being able to pretend, in this far flung part of Runeterra, that they're just two strangers who don't know shit about each other. She clenches her jaw around the memory of 'don't fucking touch her'. Sure had felt really good to say it but now she's sitting alone in cuffs she could break out from in a room that she definitely can't break out from and she's going quietly insane. The floor isn't dirty. The lights aren't flickering. The air isn't even cold. There's no flaking paint, no rusted pipes, just all spick and span and Vi. That makes it feel even worse because while she's here she doesn't fucking know what they're doing to Caitlyn. Vi would tear a city limb from limb to save someone she cares for but for Caitlyn? For Caitlyn she would burn the whole world down. She'd start here first. Concrete won't burn nicely but there must be something that will—she knows how to make explosives, she can— The door swings open and before Vi can react she finds herself with what would be an armful of Caitlyn if she could only just move her arms. As it is she gets a chin to her shoulder, an elbow into her gut, a soft, pained groan and a couple of metallic clanks for her trouble. More wiggling, an annoyed huff that takes her heart and squeezes it so painfully warm in its familiarity. Caitlyn's eye emerges, that same old analytical gaze, then a cut lip and a smear of blood, red the way Vi's soul comes roaring to life. Then, of all things, the unhinged mongoose flashes her a cheeky smile. "Did you miss me?"
November 7, 2025 at 7:33 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
jayce & cait, sibling teasing before a gala ft. packing cait

come send prompts on tumblr ^^
"It really is unlike you to put so much effort into this," he says as he leans against the doorframe. They're already late but he's also been with the Kirammans long enough to know that it doesn't matter how late they are, that lateness is a concept not applicable to the daughter of the host. "I'm not," comes the grumble from deeper inside the bathroom. "It's just" —a hand goes up, then comes back down. A sigh follows— "you wouldn't understand." Interesting. He smirks and takes another step closer, Oxfords shiny in the light trickling from her bathroom out into the truly gigantic space that is Caitlyn's bedroom. "No shoes," Caitlyn says without turning. It's frankly uncanny how she knows given that he hadn't made any sounds but Jayce retreats back to the doorway instead. "You know your mother will blame me if we're late." A noncomittal hum. Bastard. "Sneaky sprout," he says. "C'mon, what does it matter? This is not the first gala you're attending, the Ferroses aren't even invited so you don't have to make sure you're more polished than them, there aren't any foreign dignitaries, not that you've ever cared. And Corina—" The words cut off. "Oh," he says. "Is this about Corina?" "It is not," Caitlyn snaps but there is an edge to her voice that he's been able to read since she was eight. "Caitlyn of House Kiramman," Jayce says. "Are you fussing over your makeup to impress a girl?" He slips out of his shoes because he's the best big brother anyone can have and sidles into the room, into the bathroom. Sure enough, Caitlyn is leaning so close to the mirror, an eyebrow(?) pencil in her hand. Jayce isn't entirely sure it's an eyebrow pencil. It could be eyeliner. Those have brush tips, do they not? He was not paying attention when Caitlyn had explained them once upon a million suns ago. "Sprout," he says. "You do know that the whole room will be looking at you when you walk through the doors, even if you're in a potato sack?" Caitlyn's eyes flick up to meet his through the mirror. Her lips are pursed. He grins his most winningest smile back, knowing exactly how much it annoys her. "And," he says. "This is most definitely not a potato sack. It is a very fine suit that your mother had tailored for you just last week—" he leans against this other doorway, the marble flooring starting to cool beneath his wool socks, voice pitching up in an imitation of her that he knows she hates the most "—I don't even see the point, Mother, my current suits fit me just fine." If glares could wound, Jayce is sure he'd be halfway to the hospital by now. "And look where we are" —he makes a whole show of looking down at the watch she got him for his twenty-fifth birthday— "already half an hour late." "You're certainly not helping," she huffs at the mirror though her cheeks pink. "Stop distracting me, Jayce." "But it's been thirty whole minutes," he says. "And there is nothing else I would rather be doing in the world than bothering my little sister who doesn't understand that women will throw themselves at her regardless of whether her eyebrows are filled in or not." She leans back, holding what he now sees is an eyeliner brush, mouth opening to correct him, because of course she would. Then he notices it and can't help the chuckle that escapes. "Caitlyn," he says, cutting her off. "She's not going to be looking up here once she sees what you're packing down there. I see you're intending to have a wonderful night." Caitlyn's face flushes entirely, gloriously red. "Out!" Jayce backs out of the bathroom in his socked feet, howling as he goes. This is going to be a very fun evening indeed.
November 7, 2025 at 12:52 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
with the silence of the blood moon

vampire caitlyn, werewolf vi
archiveofourown.org/works/72938286
There's a secret only Vi knows. It's a secret she's the only one still let in to witness, a secret she's not the only one to have ever known, but is the last to know. It's a privilege, an honor, a curse. Caitlyn Kiramman is a messy eater. Today too Caitlyn gets up from the bed, silk sleeves and silk sheets daubed in the maroon of her meal, her lips glistening ruby red. "Vi," she says softly, words sweeter than they have any right to be. "Take care of her." And then she goes.
October 22, 2025 at 6:26 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
...i have been rate limited lolol
October 14, 2025 at 5:00 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
today's writing assignment is to reply to the comments i have left sitting in my ao3 inbox. posting this for accountability 😭

(though there are some that are for wips and those i don't answer until i post the next chapter so good luck to all of us)
October 14, 2025 at 3:28 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
cotton candy sweet

soft cockwarming caitvi smut archiveofourown.org/works/72281796

writing my way into kinktober ^^
The distraction is working. She knows it would have—her veins are not made of ice, after all, and she has always been weak, soft, in some sense, to the temptations of the flesh. She's not easily moved to great ends but she is not quite unmoved, not quite unbother, definitely not untouched. A soft, cool breeze tickles at her ankles. It isn't quite strong enough to do much but it takes the loose dangling fabric of Vi's open shirt and they shift. But perhaps that is not due to the wind. Perhaps it is not the weather that moves the soft linen. Perhaps it is the occasional tremble of Vi's shoulders, almost imperceptible to the eye. Caitlyn would not have noticed should Vi not be sunk all the way down on her cock.
October 11, 2025 at 10:26 AM
undetaqted.bsky.social
the soft of ash

Caitlyn burns joss paper.
archiveofourown.org/works/72175096

late entry for #CaitlynHeritageWeekend
It’s the smell she notices first. It’s not wholly unfamiliar—Vi knows what things that burn smell like—but it isn’t as acrid as she’d have thought, has almost a fragrance to it that lingers and sits heavy in the air. Next she sees the flickers of light, the way the flames grow as they are fed, grow further as they consume greedy, greedy, greedy beyond belief, then as they wane with their hunger unending into the crisp soft flakes of ash that float, flutter, and fall. Then she sees Caitlyn. Caitlyn in the middle of the courtyard, back ramrod straight, her coat a set of crisp lines against the light, the edges of her face all that Vi can see, lit with lonely orange. In Caitlyn’s left hand is a stack of papers, in her right, a single sheet. Caitlyn stands by the fire and throws another sheet in. It flickers a shade larger before the light disappears back under the rim of the receptacle, until all that is left is the glow in Caitlyn’s eyes. The wind takes a fleck of ash and places it on the back of Vi’s hand. Caitlyn does not look away from the flames.
October 9, 2025 at 12:01 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
headshot

Caitlyn isn't supposed to be at the Olympics. And she's certainly not supposed to be flirting.
archiveofourown.org/works/72007816
"Mother," says Caitlyn. "I hardly think this to be a good idea." "You'll have to forgive me for not taking your opinion into account, officer." Mother's head simply tilts up. "This is a matter not just of national pride, but national security. Furthermore, you misunderstand. This is not a discussion, nor is it a negotiation. It is an order from your Commander-in-Chief. You have been notified and you will serve." Caitlyn scowls. Mother holds her gaze with her own. "Gold, officer," says Commander Kiramman. "Ionia demands no less before her enemies."
October 6, 2025 at 5:23 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
happy mid autumn festival to those who celebrate
October 6, 2025 at 1:41 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
black and blue

Caitlyn through the eyes of Mother's dragon. archiveofourown.org/works/71852841

a companion piece to @roosdrawsthings.bsky.social's incredible work and thanks to l for Cantonese Cait!

#CaitlynHeritageWeekend
How apt too, they think, that they are lazing on the rooftop above the main hall when something tingles in the back of their mind. It's not quite an itch, almost a pinch, perhaps a sting. They look down. Cassandra is simply moving through her morning exercises in the usual spot. Tobias is somewhere inside—they never need to worry about him, truth be told. Threats never seem to trickle down to him, not when the throne wouldn't, would go instead to— They look up, look across, and sure enough there are two dark specks on a roof that appear to be drawing closer to the edge. Heavens above. Is there not a single Kiramman born with a sense of self-preservation?
October 5, 2025 at 1:49 AM
undetaqted.bsky.social
(might we be) in the mood for love 🔞

succubus Cait and Vi who has a wonderful, wonderful time. #caitvi
archiveofourown.org/works/71424666
“The contract details everything you might want to know.” It does, Vi realizes. “No lasting damage is done to the recipient through the consumption of pleasure. It is in mutual interest that such pleasure be genuine and protracted. Side effects may include mild dehydration, muscle soreness, and the inability to forget how good sexual intercourse can be.” It is equal parts arrogant and annoyingly thoughtful. Her gaze flicks to the succubus’ placid expression. “I got tired of explaining.”   Warmth settles down on the armrest, close enough now for a wave of spice and wood. “Have you tired of reading?” A pen is slid into her hand, monogrammed with a cursive C. K., deceptively solid.  Vi takes it and signs her name in a deep wet indigo ink. The nib has barely left the paper, the pen falling from her grasp when her jaw is tipped up and her lips captured in a kiss. It surprises her, how languorous the kiss is, how slow. It is not gentle but unhurried, none of the usual frantic heat that tends to color a one night stand and all of the burn that purrs deep inside the chest and feels a little too close to love.
September 27, 2025 at 11:08 AM
undetaqted.bsky.social
to let go

cassandra, small caitlyn, and small creature.
archiveofourown.org/works/71392851

#caitlynkiramman
She knocks quietly on the door. The first few rays of the sun have begun peeking through the glass of the windows in the corridor, casting their faint light onto the walls, daubing the floors in an edge of gold. Caitlyn doesn’t sleep very well before or around excitement. Sure enough, she hears the thump of footsteps, a hurried, hushed silence, then ‘Come in’. She swings the door open and there Caitlyn is, sat on the floor, the creature held aloft in her hands much like that scene from that one book about the lions. Very quickly is the creature lowered back to the carpeted floor, and slightly sheepish is Caitlyn’s look. There appears to be a new scratch on Caitlyn’s forehead but it at least looks shallow and not very long. Cassandra cannot find it in herself to be truly unhappy when Caitlyn’s eyes dance with the light of the rising sun and her lips are curled upwards into the birth of a smile. “Well,” she says. “I should hope that you will have enough time to return this creature back to its home before school.”
September 26, 2025 at 7:37 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
caitlyn burns joss paper

a #CaitlynHeritageWeekend wip (post-canon #caitvi)
She found it tucked into a back corner of a drawer of Mother’s desk. She hadn’t meant to look. She’d been doing a very good job of not looking. Mother had always been exceedingly prompt with dealing with everything she needed to and Caitlyn had long since cleared Mother’s for-later pile. She hadn’t needed to look. But she’d wondered where Mother’s favorite pen had gone and although she knew it wouldn’t be in that drawer, she opened it anyway. Opened it, put her hand in it, come away with the feel of a soft, textured paper, the kind that Mother would have never used. Pulled it out and stared down at the shine of a copper foil and red print set in cream. Caitlyn has never burned joss paper in her life. She knows what it is because it is unavoidable walking through the streets of Ionia in the late summer months, the sun gone and the fires burning, ashes floating about in the air that get on everything, soft chatter, contemplative silence, the warm glow of red yellow orange on faces, glimmering in eyes focused on the flames. But not them. Mother never did it. Father never mentioned it. So Caitlyn has never burned joss paper in her life but she stands here now in her study with a small stack of it in her hands and it makes her feel like clawing her chest open that her first thought is that this measly amount is not nearly enough for Mother.
September 24, 2025 at 12:27 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
looks like Caitlyn might be coming to 2XKO 👀
src: www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1lP...
September 23, 2025 at 5:59 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
referenced/traced from this katie pic and also a good cait ref
September 23, 2025 at 5:27 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
👀

#caitlynkiramman
caitlyn with her hair in a high ponytail wearing a suit with a loosened tie smirking at the camera. she has two ear piercings, connected by a fine chain
September 23, 2025 at 5:25 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
a little sneak peek at the Kirammans' dragons.
The little black wyrm is endlessly curious and active in a way they don’t remember themselves to ever really have been. They find themselves stared at, almost all the time. Had this one been around when they’d been summoned to the mountaintops for Cassandra? Their scent is new, foreign, so perhaps not. Most days they spend curled up beside Cassandra but today the Kirammans are spending some quiet time together so it is just the two of them. They look up, to see a little whirlwind of jet black scales zooming about their claws before tiny glittering blue eyes settle on them. “So,” says the small dragon. “You’re my human’s Mother’s partner.” A small fidget but otherwise the smaller being holds their gaze. Good. “I am the Emperor’s dragon,” they say. “I am her might and her power. I am the stars to her sky and the river to her land. I am the shadow our enemies dread and the spirit who haunts their dreams.” The smaller dragon blinks a few times. Their head tilts. “I’m Caitlyn’s friend," they say.
September 23, 2025 at 5:42 AM
undetaqted.bsky.social
on the top speed of reindeer

Seven year old Caitlyn disproves the existence of Santa Claus.
archiveofourown.org/works/71103791
It doesn’t make sense. A book is on her lap and a few more lie in small piles next to her, the key information she needed long since scribbled down onto paper, their contents now irrelevant. The lamp is the only thing that lights the room now dark. It has been hours since dinner. Caitlyn flips through the next book, scanning through for the pictures, diagrams, and paragraphs that are of interest. Nothing here either, on the speed of reindeer.
September 22, 2025 at 5:45 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
fort iche

crackfic in which jinx and vi venture to the land of discoursia to rescue a loved one.

for day 1 of #whimsyweek (apologies for posting this late)

archiveofourown.org/works/70874531
“You're here for…” the Warden's voice trails off. “Caitlyn,” says Vi. “Kiramman,” says Jinx. The Warden looks between the two of them. “Well,” he says, adjusting his round glasses. “Which one?” “Caitlyn Kiramman,” Vi says. “One person. Same person."
September 22, 2025 at 5:40 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
the soft of your shirt

masc4butch caitvi models, exes meeting at a shoot

archiveofourown.org/works/70771346
“Surprised you didn’t cancel,” the words catch her half by surprise but at this point Vi’s not sure she’s going to let Caitlyn Kiramman catch her by surprise ever again. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought you did,” she murmurs back, trying her best to keep her expression flat and placid the way the photographer asked. A pause. Vi steals a glance upwards at blue eyes that stare back down at her. There is, surprisingly, no heat nor hatred in them. Perhaps Caitlyn has always been a better actor than Vi gave her credit for. She’d certainly looked hurt when—fine, that’s unfair. That is unfair. “Perhaps not,” says Caitlyn, expression still not moving, “given that we are now strangers.” And whose fault is that, Vi wants to snap back. She doesn’t, because she knows she will regret it, because she knows it isn’t just Caitlyn’s fault but Vi’s too, that they started all of this too young, too naive, too foolish, that after two years of being separated she's learnt to recognize how she fucked up, how they could have both been better.
September 22, 2025 at 5:39 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
neck deep

a Caitlyn character study
archiveofourown.org/works/70601231
She doesn’t know how she makes it back to the estate but she does somehow, boots ringing out sharp on the stone. The final stairs to the door have felt far every single evening for the past few weeks but now nothing feels like much of anything anymore. Each stone slab, each step, all twenty four of them, one two three four, two two three four, three two three four. Rinse and repeat. It is when she is on the twenty third that the wrought iron gates close behind her with a clank, a shudder that Mother never quite got around to getting fixed and Caitlyn can’t be arsed to figure out. She is the only one who will notice. She is the only one who will care since Father is holed up in his room and right now Caitlyn is too full of poison and pain to care about a misaligned crumple of metal, doesn’t have the time or the space or the wherewithal to figure out who in this shining city it is that she needs to call just so she can— She takes a deep breath in front of the doors. They stand there silent, bearing down upon her imperious and foreboding, perfectly polished, perfectly oiled, perfectly balanced. If she were to simply push on them they will swing open silently and she will be home. She doesn't know what home feels like anymore.
September 22, 2025 at 5:37 PM
undetaqted.bsky.social
from iron to steel

a mission goes a little awry. caitvi ft. renata glasc
archiveofourown.org/works/70502256
“I must say,” says the Chembaron who Caitlyn has been hunting for months, whose lair she currently finds herself in, forced into a rather less advantageous position than she'd have otherwise hoped for. The tall woman bends, picking up Caitlyn’s beret from where it’d been tossed with the crumpled fabric of her shirt, dusting it disdainfully with gloved hands. It does not escape Caitlyn that those pants are as white as the cloth she is familiar with, does not escape her what it looks like when those gold-toed boots step closer and stretch the brim over her head. It’s a rough motion, firm in the pressure, the brim deliberately slanted too low, forcing her head down and her gaze lower still to where her own knees are on the cool concrete. A soft tsk. The pressure briefly lifts and the beret is adjusted correctly this time. “The white of that cute little beret works very well with your hair and that fetching scowl does bring out your cheekbones. But above everything else, my dear Sheriff—” a blade she hadn’t seen before tips her chin up and Caitlyn glares into a smirking pink-purple gaze “—your eyes are a vision.”
September 8, 2025 at 5:56 AM
undetaqted.bsky.social
into the flame 🔞

soft caitvi smut as they steal a moment from their fancy ionian wedding
archiveofourown.org/works/70426646

this one's an early bday present for @sbback.bsky.social
The winter wind whips through the corridor dimly but perfectly lit through with lamps, the flames casting beautiful shadows through the thin paper. Powder snow drifts across, tumbling across the smooth stone and sweeping out into the night. Vi feels none of the chill through the layers she wears; not through the rich brocade, not through the silk padding, not through the hems of the robes perfectly tailored to her height. Their company has begun to draw further away, begun to leave them behind. Vi tilts her head a fraction in question and gets a set of raised eyebrows in response. “Had to ask,” she says. Caitlyn’s lips twitch into an amused smile. “Did you really?” “Propriety and all,” Vi says. “Would look bad if we mysteriously failed to show up to the celebratory drinks, to the afterparty.” A pause. “It is our wedding.”
September 6, 2025 at 2:10 PM