Don't read this if yeh like Little Shop of Horrors! I mean, read if you feel like it, but I can't promise it'll be good...

It's just a slice of life chapter of my Little Shop of Horrors AU, Good Plant AU, in which Seymour is a Plant Person, Audrey is a Nymph and Audrey 2 (Twoey) is still hungry but way nicer...

It's small, stupid and probably bad, and it has some of my obscure tastes and ships so...

Read at your own risk!


The shop was silent as Seymour turned around the card hanging by the newly painted door, making it so that the side written "CLOSED" was facing the outside.

He pulled down the blinds and turned to the big flytrap plant in the corner of the room. It was silent, it's big lips turned to the ceiling and the many vines scattered over the floor. It seemed to be sleeping, but Seymour knew better.

"I know, it's suppertime." He shook his head. "I'll go down there and get your food."

Seymour patted one of the big leaves, feeling when a vine held on to his pants for a second before letting go, as if returning the touch. He went down the stairs to his tiny flat, it was small, but good enough for him. And somehow good enough to hide Twoey's "special plant food".

He quickly changed into his sleeping clothing, and as he was opening the freezer, a noise and something cold touching the back of his head made him freeze.

"Ok, listen here, man…" A voice said behind him, serious, with a "down to business" tone. "I got a loaded gun with me, but I won't use it if you just do as I tell you. Got it?"

"Y-yes! I got it!" Seymour stuttered, raising his hands as he knew it was best to do.

"Very well, so here is what you gonna do..." The unknown man grabbed Seymour by the arm, forcing him to walk upstairs. "We're going up to the shop and you're gonna get me all the cash yeh got in the box, got it?"

Seymour simply nodded, he could feel the gun pressing against his back as he took each step up the stairs. Apparently he had forgotten to lock his flat's door, again...

"Ok, here we go, chump." The guy said, pushing Seymour behind the counter, keeping the gun raised. "And don't you dare try anything clever, you hear me?"

The thief was wearing a mask, but Seymour had an idea of who he was, he was probably the thief that had been rounding Skid Row for a few months already - the police knew about him, but it wasn't like they actually cared about what happened in Skid Row and to it's inhabitants. It was honestly a surprise that that guy had taken so long to burst into Mushnik's flower shop.

Seymour nodded again, noticing the movement behind the man. Twoey seemed to have finally "woken up" from it's sleep, leaning down slowly, it's lips pointed towards the thief's back.

"So? What are you waiting for?" The masked man hissed, pointing the gun at the poor plant-man.

It was easy to see he wouldn't think twice before hurting Seymour, after all, the florist showed no will of fighting, and, honestly, Seymour could fight off an inanimate plant and he still would lose.

The guy had probably been watching the shop for a while already, and should have noticed the shop's alarm would only go off if he broke into the shop. But Seymour's flat didn't have an alarm. Well, it had, but it needed to be fixed, something he hadn't been able to deal with thanks to how busy he had been, with both the shop and a giant meat eating flytrap.

"I-I… I'm sorry, it's just…" Seymour stuttered and he tried not to look over to Twoey. He knew what it wanted to do, what it was going to do, and he, once again, was helping it. Well, it wasn't like he wanted to get shot, you know? "It's hard to open, you know there old cash registers…" He chuckled nervously, pushing random buttons instead of the right one.

"You think I don't know what you're doing?" The man hissed back, he pushed the gun a bit too close for comfort and Seymour gulped. "You better do it quickly, or you'll get it!"

But before Seymour or the man could do or say something else, a green vine fell on the man's shoulder, making him turn around in shock.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, punk." It was Twoey, of course it was Twoey, almost towering over both men and smiling at them with it's big teeth.

"What… What the fuck?!" The thief cried out. "It talks?!"

"I do much more than jus' talk, baby!" Twoey chuckled, raising it's vines as if they were arms, trying to wrap themselves around the guy's shoulder. "But what about you? Can you do more than creep around Skid Row and scare poor little Seymour-weed over there, I wonder~?"

The thief was taken back by the vines reaching for his members and quickly kicked them away.

"Fuck off, you overgrown weed!" The guy raised his gun, but shooting the flower proved to be totally useless, as the bullets were reflected by Twoey's unnatural hard skin.

Seymour hid behind the counter when hearing a bullet fly right pass his ear. The flytrap laughed, completely unbothered. The man didn't stop till his gun clicked once or twice, out of bullets.

"What the-?!"

"My turn!" Twoey's vines quickly wrapped around the man, tying his arms and legs together and lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing.

"Get off me! Fuck! Get off me!" The man still tried freing himself, to no avail. He tried turning towards Seymour as a last resource, but the plant-man was still hiding behind the counter. "Help me!"

But as the giant flytrap opened it's big mouth, revealing it's long tongue and sharp teeth, all Seymour was able to do was close his eyes, covering his ears as the man continued crying for help.

No matter how many times Seymour had already helped feeding the plant, it still made him feel sick of his stomach whenever Audrey 2 slide a whole person down it's "throat". At least it was best than see it chew them up…

Soon the screams stopped and Seymour took a deep breath, finally opening his eyes. He got up from his hiding spot as Twoey finished, spitting out the empty gun with a chuckle.

"Oh… Oh, Twoey, no…" He muttered, hands on his head. "Twoey, we had an agreement…!"

"Oh, chill out, boy!" Twoey waved him off. "I saved your life and the shop, so shut it!"

"Hey, watch it!" Seymour shook his head. "I can't believe you ate another person! We had agreed you wouldn't do it anymore, we got you blood downstairs-"

"Ah, Krelborn, relax~" Twoey smiled, a vine finding its way up Seymour's arm. "We made the whole neighbourhood a favor~! That lowlife will not me missed, now, will he~?"

"Oh, that is a mean way of thinking, Twoey, and you know that… Even about him..." But it wasn't really that wrong. The man groaned, scratching the back of his head. "But… You're right. If you hadn't taken care of that, we would have lost a whole days worth of money… So, I guess…" He smiled up at the big plant. "Thanks, Twoey."

"That's more like it, baby!" Twoey laughed, patting Seymour's head.

"So… I guess… You won't need the blood tonight?" He asked.

Twoey chuckled softly, sliding a vine under Seymour's chin, and he knew the plant did so just to mess with him as a deep blush took over his green cheeks.

"No, not tonight, I'm already full." The flytrap grinned. "Unless if ya want to give me something more, hmmm, Seymour?"

Seymour blushed violent at those words and quickly pushed the branch aside.

"No! No! I think that's quite enough, isn't it?" He chuckled nervously. "It had been a really long day, you know. I better rest."

"Sure thing…" Twoey chuckled, opening the door to Seymour's flat. "Go get your beauty sleep, baby. 'Cause you're needing it…"

Seymour rolled his eyes.

"Good night, Twoey." He said simply.

"Good night, Krelborn~" It said in a song-like way.