I Accidentally Became a Guild Therapist
Chapter 31: The Plant That Felt Too Much
Livia Marcelline Quinn, Mental Architect Lv. 1, had survived more things than any reasonable person should—trauma dungeons, emotionally constipated warriors, a Demon King who once ruled hell but now sobbed over a dead chicken... and somehow, she kept going. Not because she chose to. Because she'd woken up in this glitchy, chaotic MMORPG world with no idea how, or why.
And now?
Now she was apparently a therapist for plants.
"Empathic One..." a whisper slid into her thoughts like silk-draped static. It wasn't a voice she heard with her ears—it bloomed directly in her mind, fragrant and sorrowful.
> "You heard us, didn't you? You heard him cry."
Livia, crouched near the guild's botanical wing to re-pot a healing herb (guild punishment-slash-hobby), froze mid-scoop. The soil in her hand trembled. Or maybe she did.
"...Excuse me?"
A tulip with shimmering pink petals turned toward her—not literally, but with a presence that felt more real than it had any right to.
> "Blorbo… the slime. My beloved. He said goodbye… but I never let go."
Livia dropped the trowel. She looked at Glimmer beside her, who had suddenly grown very, very still.
"You knew about this, didn't you?" she hissed under her breath.
Glimmer jiggled, guilty as a gooey marshmallow caught in a lie.
A nearby daisy chimed in like a bitter aunt at a family reunion.
> "It was doomed! You can't crossbreed chlorophyll with protoplasm!"
A chorus of outraged plant murmurs echoed in the soil.
A fern cried.
A peony sighed. The cactus sharpened its thorns like it was prepping for a bar fight.
Livia stood up slowly, brushing dirt from her robe, trying to center herself.
"I'm talking to plants," she said aloud.
No one responded, of course—because the entire garden was now listening.
> "Your heart is open," the tulip murmured. "Too open. You feel everything. That's why you hear us."
> "And you must help us. Before love wilts forever."
> [NEW QUEST UNLOCKED: Botanical Despair]
> Objective: Officiate the union of a tulip and a slime. Optional: Manage cross-kingdom tension.
Livia stared at the quest prompt. "This is not therapy. This is a hallucination dressed as a wedding proposal."
Glimmer jiggled twice, pulsing pink.
"Oh, don't you dare be smug about this. You're goo! You don't even have—" she waved her hand, "—botanical compatibility!"
A vine from a nearby wisteria wrapped gently around her wrist.
> "Please," it whispered, "you're the only one who understands what it means to love impossibly."
>
And somehow… somehow, that hit too close.
Livia turned away quickly, her throat tight. Because wasn't that what she was too?
A mistake in the code. A woman from another world, accidentally dragged into one where her only superpower was feeling too much.
She clenched her fists.
"...Fine. You want a wedding? You'll get one. But I'm not doing seating arrangements."
The sheer absurdity of the situation hit Livia with the force of a full-body stun spell. She, Livia Marcelline Quinn, a bona fide Human Resources specialist in her past life (the one where she didn't talk to daisies), was now being coerced by sentient flora into officiating a cross-kingdom wedding.
A tulip and a slime. It sounded like a fever dream spawned from too many late-night RPG sessions and a questionable cheese pizza.
She paced through the botanical wing, the verdant air thick with unspoken expectations. Every rustle of leaves, every gentle sway of a stem, felt like a hundred pairs of eyes watching her, judging her commitment to this utterly bonkers quest. The "Botanical Despair" objective flashed mockingly in her mental UI, followed by the "Optional: Manage cross-kingdom tension." Optional? It felt like the core of the problem.
"Alright," she muttered to the silent audience of foliage, "let's break this down. First, the 'why.' Why me? Why now? And why on earth would a slime and a tulip fall in love?"
The tulip, sensing her direct address, pulsed with a soft, ethereal glow.
> "His light… it warmed me. His gentle touch… it nourished my roots. He was… different. He didn't demand anything, only shared his simple joy. We met during the great Mana Bloom of last spring. He would rest near my petals, and I would filter the sunlight for him. It was… perfect."
A single tear, dewdrop-large, seemed to form on one of its petals. Livia felt a prickle of genuine empathy. The emotional resonance was undeniable, even if the logistics were completely insane.
"And Blorbo... the slime?" Livia asked, looking around for any sign of the amphibious groom. "Where is he now?"
The tulip's glow dimmed slightly.
> "He left. After the elders… they forbade it. They said it was unnatural. An abomination. He wept and slipped away into the damp earth, promising to return one day, but the fear… it consumes me that he never will."
Livia sighed. Family disapproval. A classic. Except the family was a collective of judgmental plants and the disapproving elders were probably ancient oak trees with deep-rooted prejudices.
"So, the tension," she said, looking pointedly at the bristling cactus and the sighing peony. "You guys don't approve of this union?"
The daisy chimed in again, its voice like dry leaves scraping together.
> "It's against the natural order! A plant's purpose is photosynthesis, propagation through pollen, growth! A slime… a slime is a… a goo! It absorbs, it dissolves, it moves! They are fundamentally incompatible. Their offspring would be… what? A mossy blob? A mobile fungi? It's an insult to the sacred lineage of the botanical kingdom!"
The cactus grunted, a guttural thought-sound that suggested it wholeheartedly agreed with the daisy, probably dreaming of puncturing any hopeful slime. A group of forget-me-nots, however, vibrated with a soft, melancholic hum.
> "But love… love transcends form, does it not? We saw their happiness. It was so pure."
Livia rubbed her temples. This was already more complicated than dealing with the Demon King's existential dread. At least he had a physical form she could argue with, and a coherent language. Here, it was a cacophony of mental whispers, botanical prejudices, and profound emotional depth in creatures that couldn't even walk.
"Alright, look," Livia began, raising her hands in a placating gesture. "I understand your concerns. Compatibility is important in any relationship. But love... well, love is also a powerful force. And frankly, I've seen stranger things work out in this world. A sentient, sobbing chicken, for instance." She paused, realizing she was probably the only one who found that particular detail relevant. "The point is, if two beings truly care for each other, shouldn't we at least explore the possibility of them being together?"
The wisteria vine around her wrist tightened gently, a silent plea.
> "You speak with understanding, Empathic One. You see beyond the surface, beyond the chlorophyll and protoplasm."
"I'm a Mental Architect," Livia corrected, "not a matchmaker for flora and fauna. Though I'm starting to think the job descriptions are getting blurred." She scanned the garden, a plan slowly forming. "First, we need Blorbo. Tulip, can you… sense him? Can you call out to him?"
The tulip's glow intensified, a desperate beacon.
> "He is in the shadowed part of the cave system, near the fungal forest. He feels… cold. Afraid. My heart aches for him."
"Fungal forest, got it," Livia said, mentally noting the location. That was going to be a damp, probably dark, and undoubtedly gross adventure. "Glimmer, you're coming with me. You're good at slinking into dark places, and frankly, you probably understand slime-speak better than I do."
Glimmer jiggled enthusiastically, a helpful blob of pink. It seemed genuinely invested in this botanical romance. Livia wondered if it was because Glimmer itself was a sentient goo, or if it just enjoyed chaos. Probably both.
"Now, for the 'cross-kingdom tension' part," Livia said, turning back to the plant parliament. "I need you all to promise me something. If I can bring Blorbo back and we can facilitate this… union… you will at least give them a chance. No more bitter aunt comments, no more sharpening thorns, no more weeping ferns. Can you agree to a temporary truce?"
The garden was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, one by one, the plants began to respond. The forget-me-nots vibrated faster, their hum turning hopeful. The peony's sigh softened. Even the cactus seemed to retract its sharpest quills ever so slightly, a reluctant concession.
The daisy, however, remained resolute.
> "We shall observe. But our doubts remain. The laws of nature are not to be trifled with, Empathic One. You meddle with forces beyond your comprehension."
"I meddle with forces beyond my comprehension on a daily basis," Livia retorted dryly. "It's practically my job description in this world. Besides, love isn't always about 'natural laws.' Sometimes, it's just… love." She felt a pang in her own chest, a familiar echo of her own impossibly complicated, unacknowledged feelings for a certain emotionally constipated warrior.
She pushed that thought aside. Now was not the time for introspection about her own romantic quandaries. Now was the time to find a heartbroken slime and convince a garden full of judgmental plants to attend a wedding.
"Alright then," Livia declared, a determined glint in her eyes. "Glimmer, let's go get our groom. And you all," she gestured to the surrounding flora, "start thinking about your wedding vows. Because if I pull this off, you're all attending this 'unnatural abomination' of a ceremony."
She turned and marched out of the botanical wing, Glimmer bouncing happily at her heels. The air behind her buzzed with a mix of trepidation, curiosity, and a surprising flicker of anticipation from the more romantic members of the plant kingdom.
Livia, however, only had one thought: finding a slime in a fungal forest. And praying she didn't step in anything too squishy. This was a new low, even for her. But if a vine could reach out to her because she understood "impossible love," then maybe, just maybe, she could make a difference here. Even if it meant being a marriage counselor for a tulip and a blob of goo.
> [Quest Activated: Forbidden Love in Full Bloom]
> "Assist in the union between a tulip and a slime against all odds."
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