your poorest servant ever

Idris and Daniel Headcanons

Daniel’s favorite beer on tap isn’t that popular but Idris keeps a barrel because he knows Daniel liked it. 

They pointedly don’t ask about each other’s past because the know neither one wants to talk about it. 

Daniel asks for tips to get his wife to come back to him. Idris replies with “And you think I’m the one to fucking ask?”

·  ·  ·   it took a whole lot of convincing from idris, who had the help of the girls, to push lillian to attend this party. normally being dragged into these kinds of things would have been easy, however considering who idris associated with, it didn’t sit well with lillian. she didn’t know much about the birthday girl, or her family. nor did she know the attendees. except for a few who worked in the nypd; her line of work made that possible.

things had been pleasantly nice, besides idris leaving her side for a few moments. but the strawberry blonde had stuck it out, hugging hips with the bar. lillian wasn’t a drinker, period. however that didn’t mead she couldn’t enjoy the virgin beverages and other sweets this party had to offer. it wasn’t until she had heard the sound of shots go off did lillian’s heart sink to the bottom of her chest. her eyes darted all over the room, trying to find idris but instead was met with chaos. people ran screaming in all directions, laughter was replaced with screams. lillian pushed through the crowd trying to find a familiar face. 

              ❝ idris?! IDRIS?! ❞

|| OPEN

Idris had returned from outside, his jacket left with one young Russian blonde. He had gotten caught in a conversation with one of the Irish soldiers he saw often at the pub when the first shot rang out. His first thought was of the Iraqi desert and then a Serbian prison camp. Then he came back to himself and he thought of Lillian, somewhere in the middle of this. He pushed through the crowd and just barely heard his name being called over the gunfight. 

"Lili?" he called, finally catching sight of strawberry blonde hair and catching hold of his ex-wife's arm. "Lili, babe, I've got you. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" There was a mass of people moving around them but he hardly noticed, just made sure he didn't lose hold of Lillian.

It was supposedly the party of the century, and yet Tatiana would have gladly been anywhere else in the world if it meant that she wasn’t alone. She had never been meant for solitude - up until now, she had been bright and beaming and filled to the brim with sunshine and smiles, but ever since she had been taken away from the Irish and brought back home, something inside of her had been irrevocably torn apart. Dimitri and Viktor were her brothers, of course, and the rest of the Bratva was her family as well, but - Alexander and so much of the Irish mafia had become to mean the world to her, and she was every bit as lost without them as she had been without the Russians during her first few weeks of being kidnapped. She was torn between the two families and hated the amount of tension between them to begin with; was it really so much to ask for both of them to set aside their differences and work together instead of on opposing sides?

She was drawn out of her reverie by the sound of a voice - low, soothing, and a little gravelly, it was one that she would have recognized anywhere. It reminded her of hot cocoa and soda bread before bed; it reminded her of warm hugs and a comforting shoulder to cry on whenever she missed her older brothers far too much to bear. It was…Idris, the owner of Flanagan’s Tavern, and the man who might as well have been Tatiana’s surrogate father during her time spent with the Irish. “Papa medved’!” One of many favored petnames for him tumbled breathlessly past her lips as she very clumsily spun around in shock to face him; there, on the moonlit cobblestone path, was the bear-like gentleman in question, full beard, kind eyes, and all. 

It didn’t matter that they were alone - the walkway could have been filled entirely with other partygoers, and that still wouldn’t have stopped Tatiana from rushing forward and flinging herself at the older Irishman, tiny little arms winding helplessly around his midsection as she buried her face in the reassuring warmth of his chest. He smelled like stout and old-fashioned cologne, and it reminded her of home. “Tatia - Tatia being much better now,” she said weakly into the jacket of his suit; a glossy sheen of tears washed over her crystalline blue eyes and she sniffled softly, looking up at the man that had all but raised her while she had been away with a tentative smile. “I coming look for old friends tonight, and I finding you first. Has - has been such long time, da?”

Idris wanted to protest. She should be at home. She's not safe. If she tries to run away back to Alexander the Russia will burn the city to the ground to find her. If she sees Alexander and rejects him, well, he's seen men fall to pieces in battle. He's seen men succumb to their wounds and others run rampant in rage. He's not sure he could handle a heart broken Alexander. He's not sure any of them would survive it. 

Still, he caught Tatiana in his arms, pressing his face into her blonde hair. It was funny, he had two children of his own. Two daughters he loved dearly and would do anything for. However, he had immediately been drawn to Tatiana. Like she was his third daughter who was lost due to a mix up at the hospital. Or perhaps a mix up in Heaven. Not that he would have let either of his own daughters date Alexander for a second. 

He smiled gently at her, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. He wanted to shush her and tell her not to cry. Instead, he chuckled a little. "Yes, it has been a while but you're at home with your family now, yes? You're safe?" Safe with her own brothers. He was sure she was but he wanted to check. He was always checking. "I'm glad I found you. What are you doing out here?" Idris asked, his tone gentle and he took off his suit jacket, draping it over the girl's delicate shoulders. 

@idrismorgcn @charles-rothschild @littlemiss-saria

It was the first time that she had been able to leave the Russian compound in weeks aside from her sneaky trips to visit Feliks at the little kitty cat cafe, and the young tsarina was desperate to stretch her legs and explore the Garden Hotel as much as she possibly could before one of her many bodyguards realized that she was missing. She was extraordinarily grateful to Anya and Emmaline for assisting her in her brief escape from the ever-watchful eye of her older brothers and the rest of the Bratva, but she knew that new-found freedom wouldn’t be particularly longlasting - not when nearly all of the Russian mob was sure to be attending the gala in its entirety. Still, it was something, and it gave her the opportunity to look for even the smallest sign of her former Irish family; Saria, Owen, Idris…how many of them had she been forced to leave without even getting to say goodbye? How long had it been since she had been able to see them and know that they were okay, that none of them had been injured when she had been forcibly seized from their headquarters?

She loved her older brothers, and she loved the Russian Bratva. What she didn’t love was the lines in the sand that had been drawn without her knowing between them and the other people that she cared about so dearly. 

Perhaps a year ago, at a lavish event like this, she would have found herself eagerly devouring as many cupcakes from the dessert table as she could possibly fit into her tiny hands before bringing the rest of them out to share with the animals at the petting zoo, but - she had lost her appetite ever since she had returned back home to her family, and so for now she was wandering through one of the lush outdoor gardens that the hotel had to offer. It was beautiful, filled to the brim with greenery and flowers, and Tatiana couldn’t help the way that she stood up on the tips of her toes - she had never been able to walk properly in heels, and no one could see her silk slippers beneath her pretty pink princess dress anyway - to reach for a blooming blossom in one of the high-up trees. She stroked its petals gently, a small, wistful smile appearing on her cherubic face as she let out a tiny sigh - what fun were parties supposed to be, after all, when you felt so terribly alone?

Idris was very much out of his league at an event like this. He was a simple man with simple tastes and this all seemed very lavish and a little over the top. But if this was the party that the Golightly girl wanted, so be it. Clearly, her father adored her and Idris could understand that. He was taking pictures for his daughters because Katie had been so furious that he’d gotten an invite but didn’t bring her. Though that fury at lasted about ten seconds before she was begging that he get selfies with as many people as he could. He had to figure out how to take a selfie first.

Idris was snapping pictures of the petting zoo which really seemed to be too much at a black-tie event and then he stepped outside. He was already exhausted and he had only been there a few hours. Either he was getting old or wasn’t up to socializing the cities elites. He was, after all, just some kid from Brooklyn. It was there in the garden that he saw a flash of pink tulle and blonde curls. It was the smile and then the tiny little sigh that identified her for him. 

He ran down the stairs into the garden and took a couple steps towards her and then stopped. Would she want to see him? Was she even allowed to be here? What if he got her trouble. What if he got in trouble? “Tatiana?” He asked, just loud enough to hear, his tone strong but the word was still very much a question. “Réalta beag, what...What are you doing here? Are you alright?”

“Since when have we ever been about manners with each other, Morgan?” Alex said as Idris slid the beer towards him, a wicked grin slipping across his feature. Flanagan’s felt like a slice of home away from home for him; though it was a public business venture for the Irish, Alex respected Idris’ integrity that he held the business up to mafia standards. He grew silent at Idris’ next question, running a hand through his curls before sighing and curling his fingers around the glass Idris had prepared for him.

“At this rate, maybe; don’t count me out for it yet. The good stuff? You been holdin’ out on me here, Morgan?”

Idris chuckled, “Since my mother raised me this way. That woman will find her way up here from Brooklyn and take me down. She does not mess with manners.” He stood there, polishing an already clean glass as he listening to Alex. Idris nodded, he understood. He missed Tatiana too. Even if he had had misgivings about her kidnapping. 

"Well, I’ll keep it tucked away. And don’t act you never get the good stuff. It’s for special occasions. You know, when I got divorced or saw my daughter’s college tuition bill or when you’re having a shitty night. Or,” he offered, “Réalta wanted to try whiskey.” 

Kat smiled and nodded, “it is something serious for most of us.” She chuckled shoving the tube in her purse before her eyes went wide at him but she nodded, “sure, I was just kind of…” she shrugged, “I don’t know walking to think.” Her mind still reeling over how Philip had left her that night and the picture was stuffed in her purse. To say she was torn would be an understatement for sure.

Idris didn’t want to disturb her but something told him that she might need someone to talk to. Or a distraction. Either one. He nodded, walking a polite distance at her side. “Long week?” He asked casually and then nodded, suspecting she might not actually want to talk about it. “I did too. My oldest is in college right now and she’s home for the summer. I’m trying to find a time the four of us can have dinner together but her mother is very busy.”

i will always have a soft spot for you

·  ·  · lillian had noticed him as soon as she had rounded the corner. stepping out her vehicle, she gathered her things. it wasn’t entirely unlike idris to stay, waiting for her to come home. she hadn’t mind. at least not entirely. she often told herself it was just for the kids. the girls alone.

she nodded. trudging up the steps to the front door. it had been a long shift. one that felt like forever. however as passionate as lillian was about her profession, she’d be okay. after all, it was for the girls. fishing for her keys, lillian opened the front door, turning to face idirs.

            ❝ you gonna come in? i need a drink. ❞

Idris tried not to look like he was waiting around for her as she pulled up. Of course, waiting for Lillian was the only thing that he could be doing. He watched her walk up to the front door and paused to get her keys. You gonna come in? she asked and Idris didn’t question it. He followed into the house like a puppy, hands still in his pockets as if to look casual. 

He followed Lillian into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, finally taking his hands out of his pockets. “How was your day?” He asked, gently shuffling a stack of mail on the counter back into a straight pile. “You look...You look good.” 

“I’m always glad to see Alexander, Philip, or one of my daughters. Not that they come by that often.” @alexandervbarrett @frndlygiant