spilled ink.

Ishmael Abbasi. 39. Born Werewolf. Beta of the Martinez Pack. Writer.

[ishmaelabbasi]

In Remembrance of Me by Ishmael Abbasi

In Remembrance of Me was Ishmael’s first published novel. It serves as a stand alone novel. He is currently working on his sophomore novel, an anthology of “monster” stories. publication date: October 17, 2018 pages: 371  genre: horror  blurb: When the Khan family moved to the United States of America, they thought they’d left the memories of their homeland behind. They soon come to find that memories are not so easy to escape. Fifteen year old Emanuel Khan is like any other teen; they play sports, struggle romantically, and desperately ache to be away from their parents. But Emanuel Khan has a secret -- they’re the sole witness of a violent murder, a game gone wrong. It’s been years (three, in fact) since that fateful night and Emanuel, now living an ocean away from the original location of the crime, has almost convinced themself that life has returned to normal. That is until one dark Winter day when Emanuel is visited by the victim’s ghost, who urges them to revisit their memories of that night. What unfolds is a deep dive into ancestral secrets, generational curses, and unremembered memories.

[gabby-anderson]

location: honestly anywhere! open: @astoriastarter​  /  new encounters or established connections!

“okay, okay. i know it’s totally stereotypical for a witch to have a black cat, but just listen, alright. i saw him on the shelter’s facebook page. someone family adopted him two weeks before halloween, then dumped him back there three days after. like…they just wanted him as a spooky halloween prop or something. how awful is that? meanwhile, he thought he had a home. the poor little dude. so yeah, i went and adopted him. his name is nano now. and he ain’t going anywhere ever again. ——-want to see pictures?” because she has many. oh so many. ashling hadn’t even had him two weeks, and her phone was pretty much filled with photos of him. 

[ishmaelabbasi]

“Always.” The word was spoken in a matter of fact tone, as if there was nothing else Ishmael would rather be doing. Truth be told, there really was nothing he’d rather be doing than looking at photos of cats. Ishmael, himself, was fond of the creatures. He’d made it a practice to leave food out for the neighborhood strays. “I’m sure he appreciates what you’ve done for him,” he noted. “Is he your only one.”

[ishmaelabbasi]

raine-morgan​:

Raine offered a smirk. They knew the other hated it, but they made no comment about it because if nobody stopped them, they would make themselves at home anywhere. If made too much at home however, they would start to clean, and they made it their goal not to do that. Not that they really needed around here, though. Ishmael was relatively clean, and he had coffee. They walked into the living room, shrugging. “Wish ye would buy some cookies,” they suggested, slurping from their coffee. Raine knew there were reasons why they were exceptionally frustrating around Ishmael, and it had everything to do with jealousy, but they would never admit that. “I got into an argument with Aleyna, because she was late on the full moon, and I figured Zoey would tell ye about that, so I had to protect why I did it, ye know.” That was not why they had brought it up however, Raine needed to know if others thought the same thing as they did. 

The answer was surprising, both because of the words spoken themselves and because Ishmael hadn’t expected to receive an answer, least of all one that was remarkably logical. “Being around you all is like raising children I never asked for,” Ishmael mused, a frown pulling slightly at his lips. He loved his Pack. They were more family to him than his biological family members were at times. Still, at times, they were a source of stress. Ishmael settled himself on the couch, gaze drifting to the altar that occupied one corner of the room. He wouldn’t call himself a devoted person. He’d seen more than his fair share of darkness in the world to believe that these were the plans of divine beings, but he’d always felt more connected to his truest self and the world, at large, when he observed rituals, which was why he prayed the prescribed number of times and lit incense every morning. After a few minutes, his attention returned to the other wolf, gaze locking with his. “Will you explain on your own or do I have to ask follow up questions?” 

[zomartinez]

           “If that’s another pup out there with a personal problem that they think I’m going to Solomon for them, please tell them that I’m dead. Or better yet, on vacation. They might then believe I died before I took one of those,” she called out when she sensed @ishmaelabbasi​ had arrived despite the growing tension headache that had been prevalent for too long now. She needed a break, but it was hard to tell anyone that she was too busy for them other than maybe Ishmael who would ignore her anyways because they knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t turn anyone away. Even now, she was pushing up out of her chair to head towards whatever disturbance had been brought to her doorstep whether it was real or not.

[ishmaelabbasi]

Ishmael approached, hands raised in mock surrender. “Geez, can’t a guy just visit the most important woman in his life without there being an ulterior motive.” His voice was thick was playful teasing. He’d always viewed Zoey in the same way that he viewed Priya -- a younger sister who cared too much and sometimes needed to be reminded to take care of herself, which was why he was here. Beside his basic need to check in and make sure that she was okay, he needed to make sure that she was truly okay, which couldn’t be ascertained through a phone call. “No need for your skills today, Solomon. I was wondering if you’d like a change of scenery. Coffee at mine, maybe? You can catch me up on what’s got you up in arms.”

[topher-romijn]

Location: Topher’s favourite Diner @ishmaelabbasi​

After spending a night at the other’s place, Topher had sort of figured they would never see Ishmael again. They had felt weird and awkward, not certain if they should face the other again. Sleeping in his guest bed, eating his food. But also they both knew Carly. That didn’t make much difference however. Topher had moved around the seat when they saw Ishmael enter their favourite diner. It was the small one where the coffee was very, very strong, and they had chocolate pancakes. They made themselves small, hoping the other didn’t notice them. Until they realised how stupid that was, because it wasn’t as if something bad had happened. The turned around and waved at Ishmael when he was looking in their direction. They regretted the action, but also felt like in a way they could show some appreciate for him as well. 

[ishmaelabbasi]

Morning routines were more or less set. Ishmael would wake up, pray, have a cup of coffee, and then find himself trudging to the nearby diner for a few hours of writing. Ishmael had taken care in setting up his at home office. The room was quiet, featured a myriad of windows which allowed for natural sunlight, and sported a space for the old typewriter his parents had given him years before. He preferred to spend the beginning planning stages of a novel there, as well as the editing stages, as he required as few distractions as possible, but during the actual writing stages, Ishmael preferred to be out in the world. Mostly because he enjoyed taking inspiration from those around him. He’d expected a quiet morning, so when he turned, prepared to head to his usual table in the corner, cup of coffee in hand, he was surprised to see the little wave in his direction. “Interloper,” he greeted with a slight nod of the head when he was close enough to be heard without raising his voice. “Topher, right?” Ishmael wasn’t the greatest with names, but this one he remembered. “I’m surprised to see you.” 

[ishmaelabbasi]

ofrcwans​:

     Literary pursuits weren’t Rowans usual forte, however, this particular cafe served one hell of a chocolate milk and she felt a little awkward if she didn’t pick up one of the “free to read” books they had to offer whilst she sat and slurped on her sweet treat with happy feet tapping underneath her.      She was oblivious to all those around her as her attention was wholly gripped by the colourful book spread out on the table in front of her, she didn’t feel embarrassed that she’d grabbed a book rom the “children's” section, if anything these stories were more interesting than any of the drivel she’d tried to put herself through in the past. Plus, they had pictures. She flipped a page and sucked down another mouthful of her drink through the carefully angled straw that was readily available to her lips whenever she needed it, initially completely unaware that the man was speaking to her.      Eyes raising to meet hi, she blinked once and looked around a little dumbfounded to find herself at the end of a strangers conversation “huh? Y’mean me?” she pointed at herself with an expression of obvious confusion on her face before she glanced back down at the brightly coloured illustrations in front of her “well, it’s ‘bout a caterpillar, an he’s real hungry. I kinda relate to him, y’know, I ain’t had lunch yet an my tummies a rumblin’!” she laughed, taking another long gulp of her drink.

Ishmael was sure that a look of surprise flashed across his face. When he’d turned to the stranger, intent on hearing about the book they’d selected, he hadn’t been expecting the answer to be a children’s book. “You wouldn’t happen to be reading an Eric Carle book would you,” he asked, a twinge of amusement tugging at his lips. “There’s one book about a ladybug who happens to be in a bad mood. That’s the one I most relate to.” Ishmael coughed out a laugh and set aside the book he’d been thumbing through. “Is there anything else of interest in the children’s section? I find that those books are some of the best I’ve read. All plot, no meaningless fluff. I really admire anyone who can write a children’s novel. It takes a certain level of skill that I’m not sure I possess.” 

[ishmaelabbasi]

tuaharjuna​:

Tuah sat at the corner of the café where he could observe the whole café, noting the patrons that were coming and going through the main door and guessing where the staff exit was before he took a seat, his back facing the wall. He wasn’t here to spy on his competition, far from it actually. He was here to enjoy a freshly brewed cup while reading a book he had borrowed from Carleigha with little to no interruption. No one knew him here (none that mattered, anyway) and the shop didn’t have a large crowd during this time of the day.

The book that Carleigha had suggested to him was of horror genre, the author was someone local, he was told. He was a few chapters in, brows furrowed together and teeth biting the bottom lip as he did so, when he heard someone approach him. It took him awhile, blinking owlishly to register what the other was saying, before letting his lips curled into a smile as he showed the cover of the book. “My friend recommended me this,” he told the other, “I’m only a few chapters in, but I was rather transfixed at the progress of the story so far. Have you read the book before?”

Fingers drummed on the cover of the book he was supposed to be reading. He should have picked something familiar, something he’d read so many times that he could more or less recite it verbatim, but instead, Ishmael had chosen to go with a newer novel. It had been in the staff recommendations section and, as he frequently visited this cafe and trusted the staff, had opted to go with one of their picks. He was finding, though, that it was hard to settle. His mind was racing with all of the things he needed to do, namely submit his edits for reevaluation. A sigh escaped his lips as he listened to the other’s answer to his question. It seemed like the editing process never ended.

It took a few seconds for the words to register and a few more before his expression changed. “I have,” Ishmael answered, quickly glancing at the cover of the book in question. His own. “Though it was years ago and I’m probably due for a reread sometime soon. I can’t seem to remember if it’s worth it or not.” 

[ishmaelabbasi]

mreliasjohnson​:

Elias wasn’t often a reader. If he was honest his bookshelves at home had more grimoires and pictures on them than your more traditional books. He usually leaned toward thrillers, something that captured his attention, kept him on the edge of his seat. He did pick up the Play Dead series on a whim. It had been his sister’s and when she quite literally threw it at his head in annoyance he decided to annoy her further by actually settling in to read it. Surprisingly he’d gotten into it, pulled in by the use of root magic without it being ‘evil’ and ‘bad’. Now with his sister not talking to him, reading the series was a kind of connection to her. 

He’d been settled into ready the third in the series when a voice caught his attention and his head shifted toward the man. He chuckled softly using a receipt to hold his place. “I’ll take that deal.” Handing the book over to him. “It’s the third in the series by Anne Fraiser i think her name is. My sister liked it and i happened to steal it from her and got into it. It’s set in Savannah, the main character is a detective and daughter of a root doctor. It’s actually a bit darker than I expected.”

Ishmael extended a hand, a handshake to finalize their deal. Coffee in exchange for books. It was a good deal, if he could say so himself. One he would’ve taken up without second thought had he been on the receiving end of it. As it was, he was grateful that Elias had chosen to buy in. “Can’t say I’ve heard of it,” he replied. The hand that he’d offered earlier to finalize their deal was once again extended. This time as a request to see the book in question. “Sounds much better than what I’ve been reading.” His gaze came to rest on the book he’d set aside, a look of disdain washing over his features. 

“I was trying to branch out,” he explained. He’d never seen himself as much of a romance reader, but he’d been trying to branch out. Mostly because writing and reading only horrors tended to wear on the soul. “Last I knew, my sister was really into poetry, which makes for pretty decent reading. Though I’m not sure I really understand most of it.”

[ishmaelabbasi]

owenknight​:

Owen’s eyebrow lifted as he looked down at his drink that was being handed over to him. Nodding his thanks, teeth chewed on his bottom lip. “Touché,” he muttered, lips colliding with the rim of his glass as he tossed back a sip, welcoming the burn that rolled down his throat. Alcohol did nothing to him now, not like it did when he was a human, but it didn’t stop him from relishing in the taste and trying new brands. The vampire’s face contorted in confusion, dimples presenting in amusement. “Worse things…you talking about yourself? Because I don’t care, so maybe I am chasing after the feeling of impending doom,” shoulders shrugged as he exhaled. There was probably some truth in his statement—Owen’s favorite activity was playing fire with fire. Whether it was due to the lack of caring or pure curiosity, he could never figure out. Nevertheless, he developed an unhealthy habit of running his mouth and that, as to be expected, struck a nerve with most people. “My mother would always threaten to kick my ass, so, probably always,” he concluded. “Ever thought about fucking it out and taking a damn breath?” Owen’s index and middle fingers rose, signaling for two more whiskey sours before he drank the rest of the first one. “Or ya know, unwinding with one drink? Cause you have a major stick up your ass, Ish,” he sighed. He knew damn well he wasn’t any help, though.

The words pouring out of Owen’s mouth weren’t ones he hadn’t heard before. In fact, they were similar to ones his brother, Zayan, had said to him on more than one occasion. It had been a constant quarrel between them -- Ishmael was much too uptight, he took life way too seriously. Ishmael had attempted to explain that that was his job, both as the eldest sibling and as the future beta, but Zayan had had different philosophies about life. It had seemed like the rift between them had been years in the making. Now, Ishmael wasn’t even sure what his brother did for a living. 

He tapped his fingertips against the rim of the glass that sat in front of him, watching as the condensation ran down the sides. Stewing over his less than ideal relationship with his younger siblings was not something that Ishmael needed to do right now; it would only darken his already foul mood. “I’m not surprise,” Ishmael replied. “I’d be more surprised if you said that you were a perfectly angelic child who just became the world’s most annoying person due to the change. I know vampires and the majority of them don’t make me want to put my fist through their pretty faces.” 

There was a pause as he brought the glass to his lips. Another as he set it down and swung his legs so that he was facing the vampire full on. “Unless you’re volunteering, I’d suggest you go back to being silent and pretty.” A huff as Ishmael’s voice dropped a few decibels, quieter as he spoke words that were more tinged with truth than sarcasm. “Because the more you speak the more I feel the need to break your nose, and me getting into a fight right now is probably the last thing my Alpha needs.”

[raine-morgan]

Location: Ish’s house @ishmaelabbasi​

Raine yawned, shook their head, and went into the kitchen to make themselves another coffee. Ishmael’s apartment was familiar to them, though not very much like their own, it was a messier yet homelier version of their apartment. “I drank yer coffee… do ye want anymore? ‘cause I can make some with this hip machine ye got here,” they suggested, trying to figure it out in a few moments. Hopeless, they almost wanted to offer to get a Starbucks. 

“Listen, eh, last full moon was a shit show. Don’ believe anything ye hear.” And with that they meant the argument they got into with Aleyna, best only Zoey knew about that. 

[ishmaelabbasi]

Regardless of how many times Ishmael had others in his home, he still couldn’t get used to it. There was something about someone else walking around, touching his things, putting things in places where they didn’t belong. It annoyed him. It annoyed him even more when the person haunting his house happened to be Raine. “No, please, make yourself at home,” he deadpanned, waving his hand lightly. Internally, he was cringing. He was seriously considering posting a schedule of available times for visiting. It would aid his peace of mind, but the majority of him was resigned to the fact that no one would respect it. He’d be left with a useless schedule and even more frustration. So, it was with little hope that he resigned himself to the lifelong task of host. “I rarely believe everything I hear, but with a statement like that, you may as well come clean about whatever it is you’re trying to hide.”

[ishmaelabbasi]

you & owen, really??

“I’m not entirely sure what this question is implying. There is no Owen and I. There’s simply an itch that we sometimes scratch for one another. Plus, he’s not too bad when he’s not speaking. It’s almost easy to pretend that he’s just another pretty face.” 

[ishmaelabbasi]

Who’s your favorite fan?

“This feels like being backed into a corner. I refuse to do it, but I honor the attempt.”

[ishmaelabbasi]

What is your relationship like with your siblings?

“Like with all families, we have our differences.”

[ishmaelabbasi]

what is the lesson in life that you had to learn in the hard way?

“We’re only as good as our last action.”

[ishmaelabbasi]

Would you sacrifice yourself for your pack?

“Always. Such is the duty of a beta.”

[ishmaelabbasi]

which character you wrote about is most like you?

“They’re all like me in some regard. We all want to be the hero in the story. We all wish the ability to act outside of the confines of society and be that villainous character. If we don’t see ourselves in characters, then literature has failed us.”

[ishmaelabbasi]

Was your life a lot different five years ago?

“Of course, and it’ll be different five years from now. If it wasn’t and isn’t, life would be stagnant and a stagnant life is almost not worth living.”