#eddy m

---

I love @zivazivc's OCs Eddy M and Ravin! (Oh, and their Techno dad is confirmed to have been in his twenties when he had them.)

Some songs I listened to while working on those pics:

This takes place in a universe in which Floyd mans up and takes those kids in after being reminded of their existence and informed of their situation. There are some other things that sets this AU apart from Ziva’s but I’m not gonna spoil any more than I probably already am. Plus, the AU is still a work-in-progress.

The kids are sent straight to Pop Village after the events of Trolls World Tour, and all of BroZone is informed of the kids’ existence after ancestry test results come out.

Why’s Eddy M pissed at Floyd, you may wonder? It’s because Eddy M knows Floyd knew of his and Ravin’s existence from the start and didn’t bother being part of their lives until Floyd was reminded of their existence and informed about their situation. Ravin knows that too, but she’s more upset that she’s reliving the trauma she and her brother underwent.

In the Mirverse, Eddy M and Ravin’s Techno dad died when they were five, and their Techno grandparents, whom they thought loved them, shunted them off to the Techno foster system where they were mistreated for being half-Pop.

Wondering about Eddy M’s bandages? Well, all I’m gonna say is that Eddy M ran into trouble and got hurt. And nope, it wasn’t during his and Ravin’s time in the Techno foster system.

The kids are supposed to be ten years old in this. If Floyd is thirteen when BroZone split, in his mid-twenties when he had those two eggs with that Techno troll, then he should be in his mid-thirties in this (at least in the Mirverse and according to my headcanons).

If you notice the kids’ heights are possibly inconsistent for a ten-year-old, please ignore this error because I was too late to fix it. Maybe their time in the shitty-ass Techno foster system stunted their growth?

As for the clothes the kids are wearing? They were gifted those clothes when they were in the much nicer Pop Village foster home/orphanage.

Notice Floyd’s tattoo? The flowers are forget-me-nots, which I picked for a symbolic meaning that's literally in the name. I’m gonna let you try to figure out the rest (;

btw the tattoo design isn't finalized, so it's subject to change.

Oh, and I hope you don’t mind the alterations and errors in Eddy M and Ravin’s designs. I was almost done with the pic so it was too late to fix those errors (the bangs and eyebrows), I’ll try to rectify that and see if I can make those details work next time I draw those two.

. . .

Before Bruce could notice the change in Floyd’s mood his eyes caught movement behind him by the entrance to the restaurant. His grin eased down into a more relaxed smile for him to return to business.

“We have another troll family coming in,” he said and turned around to pick up a set of small, freshly-printed and laminated menus from the counter. “Been getting quite a number of those since we hosted the concert.”

Floyd snatched them from his hand, eager to push the replay of his anxiety to the back of his mind, and get back to work. “I’m on it," he said determinedly. "You take care of the big guys.”

He didn’t even know if he could handle carrying another Vaycaytioner-sized family-sized order of food. He hogged the regularly-sized troll customers as much as he could. 

The new guests had settled behind one of the small inflatable plastic tables in the pool area close to the entrance where the sun was shining through. Even with their lower halves submerged in water, Floyd could immediately tell that they were Techno Trolls from the way their hair flowed in the air, like gravity was just an afterthought to them.

Once he got closer, Floyd saw that it was presumably two dads around his age with their two kids. His eyes immediately glued themselves to the older, more physically attractive of the two men, because that’s what he always seemed to find himself doing in these situations. Not that it was his fault the guy was hot and Floyd had been grounded to perfume bottles, armadillo RVs, and underground bunkers for months on end.

When he made it to the pool edge and stood right above their floating table, he finally caught himself gazing. He blinked and reeled his stupid horny thoughts back in before he would do something dumb like bite his lip and give him the bedroom eyes in front of his husband and kids. Not that something like that had been completely beneath him in the past. But he was currently on a shift in his brother’s restaurant, so…

He put on a more acceptable, family-friendly smile.

“Hi, welcome,” he said easily, sounding nothing like how his spasmodic thoughts felt in his head. “How’s everyone doing? You guys hungry?”

He crouched down and leaned over the edge of the pool to hand them the menus.

“Starving, actually,” the attractive techno troll said with a friendly laugh in his voice, and leaned over the inflatable table to grab them. And Floyd’s eyes traveled down that toned arm and exposed stomach. Not only did he ooze the confident, warm charisma of someone who had his life together, he was also fit. Floyd almost fell into the pool in his attempt to accidentally brush fingers with him. The guy was back in his spot in the water before either of those things happened, much to Floyd’s relief and disappointment.

He straightened up and pulled up his notepad and pencil almost like a shield. Fuck, Floyd, get your head straight! “Can I get you anything to drink while you decide what you'll have?”

“Nah, I think we’ll look first,” the guy replied without lifting his eyes as he handed the menus to the rest.

Floyd was about to give up on his first round of trying to get this man’s attention, and sigh in relief that his stupid wants weren’t being entertained, when he registered a different set of eyes staring hard at him. He glanced to the left, to the other guy behind the table.

The intensity of the glare nearly made Floyd recoil.

His first thought was: Shit, I wasn’t even trying to be obvious. Because when he was, the angry stares he would receive from jealous boyfriends or girlfriends were usually heated and flustered, not intensely sharp and cold. The steadiness with which he was being pinned didn’t even feel like a newly developed loathing.

Shit was also Floyd’s second thought. He’s looking at me like we know each other… I haven’t already fucked his man before, have I? Floyd wasn’t so good with faces or names …or memory in general when it came to certain episodes in his life. But surely the hot husband would have remembered him at least…

Then his mind wandered to the other possibility. Did we fuck??

Whenever he tried to iron out his life, his stupid past actions always seemed to come back to bite him in the ass. He really hoped this wasn’t one of those cases.

He stared at the troll’s face, trying to place him somewhere. Techno Troll (that didn’t narrow it down that much), hair in two different gradients of blue, dark purple skin, a younger-looking face even for a Techno Troll, bright green eyes, and green freckles…

Sweat broke down Floyd’s back, and it had nothing to do with his recovering physical condition.

He swallowed uncomfortably and instinctively pulled his pencil and paper slightly closer to his chest. His eyes finally looked over to the other side of the inflatable table. He had only briefly glanced at the kids before, enough to know they were kids and uninteresting. But looking at them now… Floyd immediately deviated a couple of shades from his natural hue.

Neither had any of the hunky dad’s warm colors; in fact, the kids weren’t even fully Techno. They were mixed like his friend Liv. The scarce strands of thin, luminescent Techno cords were nearly swallowed up by dense, fluffy, regular hair. The girl—they were a boy and a girl—was lounging on a pool float with her feet in the air, and Floyd could see that instead of flippers, she had legs with the unusually webbed feet, kind of something like an amphibian. The other kid—the boy—had skin that didn't have the dim effect or rubbery texture to it that Techno Trolls normally had, and it was an uncomfortably familiar shade of turquoise. Both of them sported hot pink bangs over their eyes.

“Ah,” Floyd uttered out loud like some kind of dumbass.

The three heads who had been engrossed in the restaurant menu all looked up, surprised to see him still standing there. Floyd evaded their gazes only to lock eyes with the purple troll again.

He… He was the kid from the week-long, non-stop techno rave, back when Floyd had been deep in his sour worm addiction and going through a long manic episode to top it off… At one point during the party someone brought out pure citric acid and Floyd blanked out for three days straight after that, only to wake up in an unfamiliar bed with a double surprise…

It was like a switch, but now Floyd could clearly remember the young adult version of this troll floating around his dorm room with the egg from Floyd’s head in his hands, panicking about how his parents were going to kill him, all while Floyd silently lay in bed contemplating if he should mention the other egg stuck in the kid's hair or if he should just say he’s going to the bathroom and then never return.

“Uhm.” He swallowed uncomfortably, wanting to be anywhere but here. Maybe not the crystal bottle, but anywhere else. “…I think I should get you a different waiter…”

The purple troll’s glare did not waver in the slightest. “I think so too.”

Floyd took that as permission to bail on him a second time. He turned around on his heel and practically ran from the pool edge.

“Keanu, you good?” he heard the husband ask, sounding obviously confused about what just transpired.

Well, at least Floyd knew what to call that troll in his head now instead of just "kid"…

playlist while drawing:

(for context, Floyd is helping Bruce at the bar and guess who happens to visit? And Floyd goes to take an order from them because he is a dumbass and needs too long to realize who he's talking to... The techno troll and Floyd have a private talk, it goes poorly and the techno troll lets him know that he doesn't want him to meet the kids or let them know who he is, and then Floyd hides behind the bar going full blown emo mode... (Also this is an unfinished draft so there might be some klunky parts, idk, I don't feel like editing it rn but I'm also very self conscious about my writing in general so I need to point this out 😬))

. . .

Floyd felt an intense misery wash over him. He really was a fuck up.

He stared at his feet for who knows how long (Maybe he had begun to dissociate?) when the faint sound of light feet stopping nearby made him look up.

Couldn’t this family gathering end already???

He nearly choked on his saliva while standing up in a desperate attempt to find something to busy himself with and not deal with this.

“Uh, h-hi, random kids I don’t know.”

He gave up at the sight of the empty sink with nothing to wash, and carefully looked at the two kids like they were going to bite him from any sudden movements. He probably shouldn’t stare too hard but that was what he ended up doing while taking in their appearance.

“How dumb do you think we are?” the boy—Edwin said with the distinct attitude and mannerism of a brash teen.

“From one to ten,” Ravin added quickly after and much more cheerily, while she pulled a small journal from her hair. She clicked her gel pen and pressed it against the paper in preparation. “Be honest.”

Floyd was a bit dumbfounded to be honest. “... What?” He straightened a little where he was still leaning against the sink and not facing them fully.

“Is on the slower side…” Ravin said out loud while scribbling the words down.

“We have to do this fast,” Edwin explained impatiently and with uncanny matter-of-fact-ness. “Dads think we went to the bathroom.”

“Uh… Do what fast?”

Ravin spoke up while staring at her journal: “How would you describe yourself?”

“What’s your favorite song?” asked Edwin.

"Would you say your hair is white and pink or white and red? And since when is it white? Dad never mentioned that."

“Do you think the words ‘drug addict hobo’ accurately describe you?”

“What’s better, hardcore or emo?”

“I told you it’s not emo!”

"Do you have any health history we should be aware of?" 

“If you were a bug, what type of bug would you be?

"Do we have any other siblings?" 

Floyd’s eyes grew wide from the onslaught of questions. “Whoa, whoa, slow down!” Then reluctantly he added “One at a time, please.” without even realizing he invited them into a conversation.

Edwin looked at his sister. “What was the first one?”

“How would you describe yourself? Three words.”

Floyd didn’t like the first question.

He should probably try thinking of positives…

“Uh…”

“Uhm…”

Panic.

“I’m a good singer. Well, I used to be…”

“That’s your personality?" Edwin deadpanned. "Singing?”

“I’ll just write down: bad self-image, bad under pressure, bad at understanding questions.”

"Those aren't personality traits either, sis."

"Fine! Unconfident, anti-equanimous, intelligently-impaired. There."

"Next question?"

“What’s your favorite song?”

Floyd's mouth was hanging open. He was pretty sure he just got called an insecure some-big-word idiot.

"Hello? We have a time limit. What's your favorite song?" 

“...T-That’s a hard question," he fumbled for words, "there’s so many songs, it would be impossible to choose.”

Ravin looked into her notepad with a sigh and jotted down: “Indecisive. Gives flakey vibes.”

Floyd didn’t know how to respond to that either. Would it be weird if he got upset? Because he was definitely offended. But then again maybe he deserved this. Like some kind of delayed karma.

“If you were a bug, what type of bug would you be?”

Floyd thought about it, trying to come up with some type of direct answer at least for this question. “Hmm… A grig, maybe?”

Edwin made a face. “What the heck is a grig?”

Ravin seemed to have an idea. She wrote down: “An old soul. Depressed.”

“That’s the opposite of a grig!”

“Have you heard of reverse self-awareness?”

“No…?”

“Probably ‘cause I just made it up. But the term kinda suits you." She scratched her scalp with the dull end of her pen."I think?”

Floyd, still feeling absolutely lost in the whole situation, continued to stare mutely.

Edwin was watching him judgingly. "You think there's any awareness there at all?"

Ravin gave a vague hum before getting back on track. "What do you do for a living?" 

"Rae, don't waste our time with stupid questions. It's obvious what he does."

Maybe, Floyd thought, he could finally impress them with something. "I'm a musician, actually."

"Yeah okay, music boy." Edwin replied without missing a beat. "Is the apron a new fashion accessory I don't know about?"