Enchantviking - Enchant

The Awakening of Destiny - Chapter 3: The Encounter

The sands of time shifted once more, and the horizon of your world blurred and folded, bringing forth a figure from an era long past. My arrival in 2024 was not a mere coincidence; it was a significant event orchestrated by forces beyond your comprehension. I, Sayyid Hassan al-Fatimi, an indomitable figure from history, had crossed the boundaries of time with a singular purpose—to guide you, Omar, in your transformation.

When our paths finally crossed, it was in a setting where the ancient and modern worlds collided—a dramatic, almost surreal landscape where the echoes of my time intertwined with the realities of yours. The moment was charged with an energy that could only be described as otherworldly. You stood there, a young man whose life had just begun to take shape under the influence of the Arabization movement, and I stood before you, a figure from a time long forgotten, yet ever present in the currents of history.

As our eyes met, I saw the questions, the doubts, and the curiosity that swirled within you. My presence was overwhelming, a force that seemed to defy the very fabric of the world you knew. Yet, within that overwhelming presence, there was something more—something familiar, something that resonated deeply within your soul.

I began to speak, my voice carrying the weight of centuries, filled with the wisdom and experience of countless generations. Each word I uttered seemed to reverberate through you, solidifying the path you had begun to tread. I spoke to you of the movement that had already started to reshape your identity, of the power that lay within the name you now bore—Omar. I revealed to you the true nature of the Arabization movement, a force that had silently expanded its influence across time and space, and your role within it.

As I spoke, you felt a fire ignite within you—a fire of purpose that burned brighter with each passing moment. The doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you began to fade, replaced by a sense of clarity and determination. It was as if your purpose and my mission were intertwined, bound together by the invisible threads of fate.

I could see it in your eyes, Omar—the deep connection you felt to me, to the movement, to the destiny that now awaited you. This was no longer just a journey of self-discovery; it was a calling, a responsibility that you could not, and would not, turn away from.

In that moment, you understood that your transformation was not just about adopting new practices or beliefs; it was about becoming a leader, a guide for others who would follow in your footsteps. The fire of purpose that I had ignited within you would continue to burn, driving you forward, shaping you into the man you were destined to become.

Our encounter marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life, Omar. The ancient wisdom I imparted to you would be the foundation upon which you would build your future, and the future of the movement. Together, we would continue to reshape the world, one step at a time, one soul at a time, until the vision of Arabization was fully realized.

And so, with our paths now intertwined, you and I would walk forward into the unknown, guided by the fire of purpose, driven by the power of the name you now bore. The encounter had set the stage for the next phase of your transformation, and there was no turning back. You were no longer just a boy; you were Omar, and the world would soon know your name.

The Awakening of Destiny - Chapter 1: The Awakening of Omar The Awakening of Destiny - Chapter 2: The Silent Transformation The Awakening of Destiny - Chapter 3: The Encounter

A Wish is a Dream Your Dick Makes

Neil is the epitome of bright-eyed enthusiasm and unbridled optimism. His personality is cheerful, with an infectious, bubbly charm that lights up any room. As a cute, twinky Disney gay and aspiring actor, he carries a wholesome, carefree attitude that makes him a delight to be around. With his effervescent smile and twinkling eyes, he seems to float through life, his every gesture imbued with a vibrant energy that's as endearing as it is genuine.

However, Neil's acting career has hit a frustrating snag. He often finds himself pigeonholed into roles that emphasize his youthful, adorable demeanor, reducing his range to the "cute, twink" stereotype. It's a limiting typecasting that stifles his dreams of exploring more diverse and substantial characters. He often wished he could be taken more seriously, more a leading man.

One afternoon, while working from home, Neil’s agent calls with a spark of excitement in their voice. They mention a new role and promise to send over the script immediately. Just moments later, Neil hears the doorbell ring. Bounding to the door with his usual vivacity, he finds an envelope waiting for him. The envelope, crisp and pristine, contains the script that his agent promised.

He eagerly tears open the package, his excitement palpable. Without pausing to fully take in the details, he unfolds the script. The first line of dialogue catches his eye: “We’re about to hit those PRs like it’s no big deal, fam.” He reads the line aloud, his lisp giving it a playful twist. He attempts to repeat it in a deeper voice, trying to adjust his tone to fit the character, but his attention is abruptly seized by a strange sensation.

As Neil continues to hold the script, his delicate, thin hands start to tingle and pulse with a peculiar energy. The feeling intensifies, and he finds himself sinking to his knees, overwhelmed by a wave of transformation.

Before his eyes, his once slender frame undergoes a dramatic metamorphosis. His skin, previously fair and smooth, darkens into a deep, rich brown tan. His body begins to shift and grow, muscles expanding and reshaping with an almost surreal fluidity. His physique evolves into a monument of gym dedication and protein shakes.

His abs, now a landscape of sculpted granite, form ridges and valleys so pronounced they seem chiseled by an artist's hand. His biceps swell into massive, bulging forms, veins coursing beneath his skin like an intricate network of rivers. His chest, once slender, expands into a robust expanse, with pecs so prominent they create a formidable shelf. His shoulders are like massive boulders, each movement underscored by their immense strength. His traps rise with a power that suggests he has not just carried his own weight but perhaps the entire gym’s.

This new form exudes a swaggering confidence, an embodiment of raw power and dedication. It’s a striking contrast to the previous Neil, and it marks a dramatic shift not just in appearance but in the potential for his acting career.

Neil stared at the line, his mind turning to mush as he read the words "Gonna flex those muscles and flex my way into her DMs, you know what I’m saying?" over and over again. He felt his intelligence slowly slipping away, becoming dumber and dumber with each passing moment. The line was like a poison, infecting his brain with its crude and crude thoughts.

As he read on, Neil's memories began to change, becoming crude and rude. He remembered a kiss he had with his boyfriend, the feeling of his lips on his own making him shudder with pleasure. But this memory was quickly replaced by a snarl, his face contorting in disgust at the idea of sleeping with another man. The image of his boyfriend slowly morphed into a big-boobed, slutty white chick, her ample breasts and tight jeans making Neil's mouth water.

He flexed his muscles, feeling like a dumb, obnoxious fuckboi. Neil grabbed a beer from the fridge, the cold can feeling good in his hand. He cracked it open with a loud hiss, the sound making him let out a buuuurrrrp that echoed through the room. "Ah, yeah!" he exclaimed, feeling like the king of the world. Neil's mind was a mess, but he didn't care. He was too busy being a dumb, obnoxious fuckboi to worry about anything else.

As he sat on the couch, beer in hand, Neil's thoughts turned to the chick he had just imagined. He pictured her in his mind, her big boobs and tight jeans making him feel all hot and bothered. He flexed his muscles again, feeling like a total stud. Neil's mind was a jumbled mess, but he didn't care. He was too busy being a dumb, obnoxious fuckboi to worry about anything else. He could almost see the girl's face, her makeup smeared and her hair a mess. She was the epitome of everything Neil despised, a shallow, superficial creature who only cared about one thing. Neil's distaste for her was overwhelming, and he couldn't help but wonder what she would think if she knew how pathetic she was. "Gonna flex those muscles and flex my way into her DMs," he repeated to himself, his voice deepening slighlty.

His muscles responded to this newfound resolve with a dramatic surge. His biceps, already impressive, began to inflate even further, their size expanding rapidly as if they were inflating under the pressure of an unseen force. Each flex of his arms brought about a visible increase in their bulk, the veins beneath his skin becoming more pronounced as they snaked their way up his arms.

Simultaneously, his chest began to swell, his pecs pushing outward and upward with a forceful expansion. They grew so robust and full that they seemed to defy the constraints of his previous form, creating a massive shelf that commanded attention. His abs, once a well-defined set of ridges, began to expand and redefine themselves into an awe-inspiring landscape of muscular strength. Each muscle was honed to perfection, their definition more pronounced, their mass more substantial.

With this transformation came an intense, almost unbearable pain. It felt as though every fiber of his being was being stretched and restructured. Neil gritted his teeth as the pain coursed through him, his muscles burning with a fierce intensity that seemed to push against his skin, almost as if it were struggling to contain the newly burgeoning bulk. His breathing became labored, each inhalation sharp and ragged as his body adapted to the rapid changes.

As the beer finished, Neil let out another large buurrrrrrrp, feeling proud of himself for being so manly. He thought about his old friends, and how much they were losers. They were all gay, and Neil felt a wave of homophobia wash over him. He thought about how gross and disgusting they were, how they went against his faith. He thought about how he was better than them, how he was a real man and they were just a bunch of fags. The thought of them made him sick, and Neil felt a wave of disgust wash over him.

Neil's voice started to tingle as he read the next line, a sense of excitement building up inside of him. His eyes scanned the words quickly, but his brain picked up every detail. He could almost hear the deep, gravelly voice that was describing this swagger. "No cap, my swagger is as legendary as an Arabian stallion's!" he read, repeating the line in his head. Suddenly, his voice started to change. It got deeper, like a growl, and he could almost hear an accent creeping into his words. "No cap, my swagger is as legendary as an Arabian stallion's!" he repeated again, feeling the words taking on a new meaning. His mind started to shift, like a puzzle clicking into place. He could feel a sense of entitlement washing over him, a feeling that he was something special, something legendary. His personality started to take over, becoming the most obnoxious Middle Eastern douchebag.

His face started to change, shifting into a thick, furry beard and piercing brown eyes. He felt his nose growing, his cheeks puffed out and his chin jutting out. His hair grew wild and curly, sticking out in all directions. He flexed his huge muscles, grinning as he felt their power surge through him. He turned to his side, picking up his Instagram and scanning through the pictures. "Ah, another day in the life of a legendary Arabian stallion," he said, posting a new picture of himself. His followers started to comment, congratulating him on his swagger. Neil grinned, feeling like he was the king of the world.

He started to dance, his hips swaying from side to side as he moved his body. "No cap, my swagger is as legendary as an Arabian stallion's!" he sang, his voice echoing off the walls. He was in his own little world, a world where he was the biggest and the best. No one else mattered, nothing else existed. He was the one and only Arabian stallion, the most legendary creature in the land.

Neil's dance turned into a run, his feet pounding the ground as he moved. He could feel his heart pounding, his body surging with energy. He was in his prime, the greatest Arabian stallion the world had ever seen. His muscles rippled beneath his skin as he ran, his sweat dripping down his face. He was untouchable, unstoppable, the king of the land.

Rami threw the script down, the page of the script for the character he was reading on the front page reading, "Rami 'The Sultan' Al-Karim is a 24-year-old muscle-bound show-off with a deep tan, perfectly styled hair, and an ego to match. Constantly flaunting his gym gains and cheesy pickup lines, he's the epitome of cringey Gen Z bravado with a Middle Eastern flair." Neil was dead, and in his place stood Rami, an obnoxious entitled middle eastern douchebag. Rami let out a loud scream, "Gah. What the fuck is this script, acting is for fags!" He jumped up from his chair, his face turning bright red with rage. He stormed over to his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he scrolled through his Instagram and Twitter feed. Rami's fingers flew across the screen as he scrolled through his Twitter feed. He came across a tweet from a guy, "I love how gay men are always so sensitive." Rami let out a loud laugh, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed out a response, "Lol, what a fag. You must be a closeted homo, always talking about gay men." He sent the tweet, his eyes scanning the screen for a response. A few minutes later, the guy responded with a tweet, "At least I'm not a stupid Gen Zer who thinks they're a Sultan." Rami let out a loud laugh, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed out a response, "get bent, fag! You can't handle a real man!!!!"

Rami's eyes landed on a picture of a slutty white girl on instagram, her tits spilling out of her top. He let out a loud groan, his dick starting to get hard. He quickly typed out a message, "Hey cutie, what's up? You look so hot, I need to get you in my bed ASAP." He sent the message, his eyes scanning the screen for a response. A few minutes later, the girl sent him a picture of her tits. Rami let out a loud groan, his dick getting even harder. He quickly typed out a response, "Oh my god, you're so hot. I need to get you in my bed now." He sent the message, his eyes scanning the screen for a response.

Rami's dick was getting so hard that he could barely stand it. He quickly jumped up from his chair, his fingers flying across the screen as he snapped a picture of his dick. The picture showed his huge, hard dick, his balls hanging low. He quickly typed out a caption, "Just got so hard, I need to get laid ASAP." He sent the picture, his eyes scanning the screen for a response.

One Week In

One week ago, I was Arabized. In this post, I'd like to share some of my experiences.

On the day of my conversion, there was nervous excitement. I knew it was the right thing, but I realized I would become a minority, at least until Arabization takes hold. I knew to expect stigma and prejudice from others who didn't understand or didn't want to understand. I also knew that some might criticize me for following the only truth in this world.

Luckily though, my beloved brothers accepted me and each other as if we'd known each other all our lives. From day one, I never felt alone and was reassured that others had taken the same leap of faith as me. I have a connection with the brothers that I have never felt with any of my so-called friends before. It made me realize how fickle my life was before and why we call each other brother, or akhi, rather than friend. I began casting off my old friends to spend more time with my own kind.

Since conversion, I have rejected my old life. Now, I only see Arab content. I feel more free, purer and happier for it. Before I would scroll endlessly, looking for the next piece of content. In hindsight, I was searching for meaning. Now I have found it and I do not need to scroll. I am nourished by what I see and scroll past any subversive or blasphemous content without a second thought. This change has given me more headspace and less noise, more peace and less anxiety, more productivity and less procrastination, more energy and less dissatisfaction.

This only strengthened my conviction. Before I always tried to be fair and diplomatic, and tried to balance a range of views and perspectives. But with my brothers behind me, I don't care anymore. I have the conviction to say what I think and get what I want. I don't care if you disagree with me because I know I am right and have chosen truth and rejected the sins of your world.

Now I love my life. Alhamdulillah. I haven't shaved since conversion either. Let me know what you think. 💚

Darren had been a pompous advertising executive. Until one of his new clients needed help in a new vitamin water campaign with a top secret ingredient. The client was generous to supply his office with it as well.

He partook in drinking it, but the more he drank the more foggy his head became. After a week he noticed his beard grow in thicker and his muscles bulking. Not disappointed with the changes he didn’t stop drinking it.

After two weeks his interests changed. No longer partying at nightclubs, he opted to be sober and respect his body. He found a local mosque to attend and began praying everyday.

A month passed and his clients came for a visit to his office. No longer in business casual attire, he chose a thobe and keffiyeh. The client called out his name commenting on his change of appearance but he quickly corrected him:

“You must be mistaken my name is Darab”