Sai Marie Johnson
Bio
A multi-genre author, poet, creative&creator. Resident of Oregon; where the flora, fauna, action & adventure that bred the Pioneer Spirit inspire, "Tantalizing, titillating and temptingly twisted" tales.
Pronouns: she/her
Stories (104/0)
What is a Heyoka Empath?
First, I have to explain that many people have heard of the word empathy and from that quite a few have heard empathic and even empath, but I think that very few people realize there are several types of empaths and one is considered to be one of the strongest.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Psyche
The 13th Scholar
There Weren't Always Dragons in the Valley... For the third time, Mr. Townsend crinkled the paper with a huff; what a headline. The rim of his glasses sat snugly upon the bridge of his nose, and yet Mr. Townsend seemed entirely annoyed; if the red-rimming around his eyelids was any sort of indicator. It was a strangely cool May, and he had tucked his sandy brown hair behind his earlobe; held back by what appeared to be a leather band, it swung in a low ponytail. Free of its binding, Joel Donovan Townsend's locks reached about his shoulders, but he rarely allowed any to see it this way. Not since she had disappeared.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Fiction
Watch Your Back; Honor the Old Ways
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Some time ago they stayed hidden in the distant shadows in the dark patterns of the mountains of the Earth and while that happened humanity was allowed a brief respite; an opportunity to flourish and grow. In the early days, some people still believed in the value of magic, and there were a few shamans who would actually go forth to pay tribute to them so that they would stay at the forest edge but from time to time, as with all villages some folk; a precocious adolescent or the curious toddler, would find themselves making way into the depths of the forest to become a sacrifice that the shamans had no control over.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Fiction
Dear Mama...
Dear Mama, This is a confession I know that you're not expecting but I feel like it's one that's important that I convey as I grow closer to forty years of age; when I was a little girl my hero without a doubt has always been my mother. I found you, Mama, to be the most beautiful person that I had ever seen and I suppose that's also because yours was the first face I ever saw, but for me, it has always been more than that. I remember watching you, Mom when you would get ready in the mornings, and how you did your hair. Your makeup was always on point and, there was never a day when you did not look absolutely beautiful no matter what, and it always inspired me. Oh, how I wished that I could be as beautiful as you were, but I never thought it would be something I could prove truly possible because I had so little self-esteem as a youngster. I was so shy, and scared. I was the very epitome of a timid little girl, and it almost seemed like I wasn't good enough to be your daughter nor nearly as pretty, but that was never for anything that you did and despite this, I really saw you as my hero.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Confessions
Why I Am Pro-Choice and How That Is Pro-Life
We are presently facing a formula shortage and parents are having breakdowns due to being unable to feed their infants, and we are now making bans on women's bodies and choices when we cannot feed the babies that are already in existence.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Humans
ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴄᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇʟᴛꜱ:
The coldness of that winter had been heavier than others. Intricate crystal sculptures crafted by the hands of the wild goddess seemed to jut up from every corner within the cavernous void that the silvery-fleshed woman strode. Lengthy tresses hung in her wake, seemingly floating upon the air as if they were living entities of their own simply following the lead of her forward motion. Having been called to this place for a meeting with the one called Queen, Icy recognized that times were changing and the season of heat and return of the sun would come in no short timing. The clack of her heels upon the stones resonated to create a rhythmic echo as she made way further down the hall. In passing, one of the slave girls' glances met with hers and Isyila felt a surge of annoyance flowing through her veins. Why Queen Jonquil had not yet done away with the practice of keeping the slaves had placed a rather horrid taste in Icy's mouth. But, she had a purpose to fulfill and as the slave passed her, she considered that mistreating her due her placement in the house was distasteful. Icy, as her name denoted, rather enjoyed the solidity of her own serious state and never found any excuse for leisure behavior as obligation and advising had been the primary objectives for the adviser.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Fiction
Wind of the Highlands
Rhys Rhys strode silently across the grass, dark grey eyes rolling across the vibrant rolling and rich green hills. It was a moment of sweet respite that he dare not miss. Not the cold or even the grey landscape seemed shrouded in a cloud of thick, swirling mist that seemed to render everything entirely invisible could keep him from it. He snorted slightly, drawing his hand upward as he scratched at his chin. He was the third chieftain of Clan MacKinnon, but he knew well enough the rumors that ran their lands. Indeed, his clan was none to be trifled with, Clan MacKinnon was infamous for being one of the strongest clans in the upper highlands. But, these things were only the surface of Rhys' importance. Indeed, the man was well on his way to becoming one of the most feared chieftains this side of the Hebrides,
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Fiction
Worship Your Mistress
His eyes scanned over her with an intensity that Natalya had never before seen, a rising need with a flicker of carnality that radiated from his eyes like a brightly lit flame. It licked and arced from his pupil, with an arrow’s piercing aim directed at her.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Filthy
Princess of One Heart
In their land, though dubbed the Isle of the Ice, grew broad emerald meadows filled with beautiful white flowers and blades of grass so tall one could simply kneel and be hidden in an instant. This particular Spring day two beautiful young girls frolicked about, laughing and joking as they soaked up the golden rays of sun. Two sweet sisters, the older girl being a platinum blonde with just a dash of redness to her otherwise golden locks; called Natalya, firstborn princess of The Arefyev clan. The younger of the two was a strawberry blonde beauty with eyes that pierced to the soul as crystal clear blue as the melting ice as it gave birth to pools from the perishing snow; Lidiya. Both the beloved princesses of the valiant King Eric Arefyev and Queen Rhiannon Jorgenson. The two girls were raised when the songs of Beowulf could be well heard around a campfire and the tales of magic in the night were their preferred entertainment. For their people, blood and honor were two things that knew went hand in hand. These were dark times but with Natalya and Lidiya being princesses of the notorious King Arefyev they never had cause to fear. The legends boasted of King Eric’s ability to wield a claymore like it were nothing more than a feather in the wind, and his ability to lead men into battle made the sacking of the city by city no challenge for the king and so the Queen held no reservations on what the two girls were allowed to, provided they stayed within a reasonable distance of the camp. Years and years passed with Natalya and Lidiya playing in the meadows such that it became a usual occurrence and the other villagers soon became accustomed to it. Though they were indeed a rough, and nomadic people they kept to themselves, except when they needed something, or in the event that King Eric highly desired something. There was one thing for certain, though valiant, King Eric was also ruthless and if he settled an eye on something he wanted, he took it and there was not a soul or thing that would stop him. For years King Eric protected his daughters but as Natalya grew older and her body began to morph into the ripe curves of a young woman, King Eric began to ponder upon dowries and clans to whom he could tie himself via the proper marriage of his eldest daughter. This meant Natalya would soon have to cease her childish behaviors and play in the meadows with her younger sister. Indeed, Natalya had been blessed with hips perfect for delivering sons, as Queen Rhiannon fondly stated. Lidiya, being only three years younger than her sister, had long feared this day and hoped her father wouldn’t notice that Natalya was growing into the perfect bride-to-be because for her sister to marry meant she would be alone with no one to turn to in her worst of moments. Albeit, Lidiya was a little less adventurous, and much more interested in becoming a wife and mother one day, she still felt some reservations about losing her sister to another clan. She enjoyed playing with her sister in the forest, but she also knew she had to learn to cook and provide for a husband in need one day but it had been Natalya who taught her most, if not everything, she knew. After all, it had been Natalya who was often distracting her to get them both into trouble by pressuring Lidiya to abandon chores in favor of playing in the meadows. But, she also made up for that by coming to Lidiya’s aid at every beck and call. And she was certain that Natalya’s epic and soulful eyes played a part in pulling at her heart strings. Each time she debated, Natalya seemed to have eyes that grew to the size of a large coin with fake tears brimming in the corners. It was amazing how well Natalya could guilt Lidiya into being her companion in anything but Lidiya had a soft spot for her and she wanted nothing more than to be accepted in her eyes. If only the two girls had any clue what was going to happen to them the day they chose to enter an open meadow in the midst of spring. If only they had known a rival tribe had camped in their woods then maybe Lidiya wouldn't have been lost to her family that day. Fate had something else in store though, and by the end of the night, Lidiya's commitment to companionship with Natalya would be compromised in ways neither girl could ever expect.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Fiction
A Few Ways to Honor Rest
I will not deny that I am a person who has long been considered a night owl. This might be due to having a baby in my early adulthood and growing accustomed to being up late with my child and later learning to relish the quiet time offered by my children being asleep.
By Sai Marie Johnson2 years ago in Psyche