The late summer breeze whispered through the courtyard, playfully ruffling Gevork's silky reddish face fur as he lay sprawled on the cool grass. His large, tufted white handpaws folded behind his head. The distinctive white inverted V marking on his face caught occasional shadows from the swaying branches above, and his round blue eyes traced the lazy drift of clouds, unfocused behind his glasses. The faint sweet scent of flowers blooming nearby wafted on the wind, providing a sharp contrast to the heavy thoughts in his mind.

The ragdoll’s smartwatch buzzed against his wrist, followed by a soft chime from the navy messenger bag beside him. Gevork fumbled for his phone, and his white fluffy paw fur almost engulfed the device. The message preview showed an enthusiastic "Yo! Don't you forget about today's game! Come early okay?! 🏀💪" alongside the profile picture of a confident-looking muscular bunny in a mid-jump shot. 

A wave of stupefied suddenly washed over Gevork – not his own feelings, but Higinio's emotion seeping through their connection. Gevork's whiskers flicked with immediate understanding as he read the message. His rolled-up pants legs shifted in the breeze as he sat up, and removed grass seeds from his slightly unbuttoned henley. 

"Always forgetting to set your reminders, huh?" he murmured, his voice gentle and casual. While the corners of his muzzle rose slightly, there was a hint of resignation in his eyes.

Although the ragdoll couldn't listen to the tiger's words for such a thin connection for now, he could feel a trace of apologetic feelings forming, as strange as it looked, he patted his shoulder to soothe it. 

"Well, we better start getting our body heated up and pumped now then, " Gevork started jogging with purpose toward the gym where he'd recently purchased a membership, his messenger bag swinging with the motion. His soft fur caught the late afternoon light as he walked, his fluffy tail swaying with every brisk step. 


Like the legendary werewolf, nearly once a month he would be forced to transform into Higinio, the Siberian tiger. Not based on the influence of a full moon, but through a peculiar cycle they had yet to fully understand.

The internet had offered little help beyond vague urban legends, mostly about bloodthirsty wolf tyrants or butchers. Why wolves, though? Gevork questioned. Historically, there had been terrible tyrants and butchers of every species, yet somehow the wolf transformation had become the definitive shape of supernatural change in popular culture.

A subtle grin appeared on his muzzle as he pondered the name of their legend if discovered. "Werecat? Weretiger? Werejock? Werehimbo?" The last thought made him chuckle until a sudden surge of offended resentment from Higinio cut through his amusement, the ghost tiger's emotions flowing through their bond, showing he didn't appreciate these names.

"Sorry, sorry," Gevork murmured, his white-tufted paws raised in mock surrender, however, his whiskers twitched forwards with suppressed amusement as he picked up his pace, his silky red and white fur ruffling in the self-made breeze.

At least there was one crucial difference between Gevork’s situation and the savage legend transformation, and perhaps two, for Higinio being a lovely himbo. He had some control over this transformation. Through brave yet careful experimentation, they'd discovered that intense physical exercise was the key to enchanting Higinio's presence from a whisper to a roar. The muscle exertion would strengthen their connection until Higinio could fully manifest.

And running to the gym is actually a good warm-up exercise, Gevork pushed through the gym's glass doors, his fur damp with exertion. He could feel his clothes clinging differently now, especially around his thighs and back where sweat had soaked through. The henley that had been comfortably loose this morning now felt snug across his shoulders, though he wasn't sure if it was just the sweat or the beginning of the transformation. His body did feel better, as if Higinio's essence was already infusing into his frame, stretching him taller, broader. The familiar scent of rubber mats and metal equipment filled his sensitive nose as he signed in, causing his tail to swish with anticipation behind him.

When passing a wall mirror, the ragdoll’s round ears perked forward with curiosity as he couldn't resist inspection. Smooth down his fur with his large white paws, he sensed the shifted texture of his coat. Where his fur had been silky and flowing, it was now taking on a coarser quality of Siberian tiger's furs in summer, or just because the sweat made the fur tangled. And under them, the result of muscle outlines could be vaguely noticed, making Gevork and Higinio excited and happy, especially Higinio. A surge of Higinio's tiger pride radiated through their strengthening connection like sunlight. Gevork's whiskers lifted in a toothy smile, the white V on his face wrinkling with shared satisfaction.

Gevork’s ears swiveled back briefly as he recalled his teenage frustrations with building muscle, then forward again as he now had a miraculous solution for it.

This possession still puzzled Gevork’s analytical mind. The way reality itself seemed to bend and reshape around their transformations fascinated and perplexed him. It wasn't just his physical form that changed, the world itself seemed to shift to accommodate Higinio's existence. People would remember him as the confident tiger himbo-athlete, his phone would fill with all Higinio's bro contacts, and his belongings would suit Higinio's life.

And when the possession ended, most things would reset, mostly but not everything. Their newly developed muscles remained, and sometimes their clothes lingered too. His whiskers pulled back slightly in a moment of embarrassment, a deep blush heating up beneath his fur as he remembered the worn, musky sports jockstrap that was still in his drawer. Memories weren't his own flickered through his mind, the bass-heavy thrum of music, the press of bodies, the heady scent of…His tail began to puff up involuntarily, and he quickly wrapped it around his leg to hide his reaction. (yes, he still keep it, and no, it was for research purposes!)

A shiver ran down the ragdoll’s spine as Higinio instinctively urged him to keep moving, not letting the aggressive gym's AC cooled his warmed muscles. Grateful that Higinio couldn't yet read his mind to catch his previous train of thought, Gevork hurried toward the locker room. As he moved in haste, he missed the telling detail of that striking shift in his eyes, amber bleeding deep blue into like a sunset meeting the ocean.

After changing into more workout-fitting clothes, especially one size larger based on their foreseeable growth. Higinio's size should be even one or two sizes larger, but it's not appropriate to wear that size when he only built up a bit of muscle and frame. Gevork's steady breathing as he surveyed the space, his round blue-amber eyes scanned for an open mat, whiskers twitching with anticipation. After a quick stretch that made his spine arch in a distinctly feline manner, he dropped into position for push-ups.

"1…2…3…" He began counting, voice determined. A peculiar tingling sensation spread across his fur, his luxurious coat began to shorten and compress. Faint rusty stripes emerged through his fur like watercolor bleeding through paper.

"6…7…8…" His arms trembled slightly, but not from exhaustion. The blood vessels under the skin began to expand, as if his muscles were going to burst through the skin. His previously loose tank top was filling out and fit his broadening chest and shoulders.

"11…12…" A soft grunt escaped him as his tail began to thicken and lengthen, becoming more powerful and tiger-like. His ears flicked back in concentration as he felt his glutes and thighs becoming more defined with each push-up, his athletic shorts getting snugger.

"16…17…18…" Gevork's nose wrinkled as he caught his own scent, strong and different from his usual subtle fragrance. Sweat dampened his now shorter fur, trailing down his increasingly defined abs. His ears perked forward and close together, and he found himself purring softly, enjoying the byproducts of his own workout. 

"21…22…" Suddenly, a familiar booming voice joined his counting, resonating inside his head. Gevork's whiskers twitched in amusement as Higinio's voice finally became apparent.

As he completed the set, Gevork sat back on his plump hips, tail swishing playfully. "Good afternoon, big tiger. Forgot to set your alarm again, hm?" His now mixture color eyes sparkled with mirth. Their shared consciousness was now clear enough for direct communication.

"Oops, my bad, lil bro!" Higinio's bright and carefree voice boomed in his mind. "But hey, you know I always come through…eventually! And lucky me got you handle my stuff!"

Gevork's ears folded back slightly in mock annoyance, but a purr rumbled in his chest despite himself. He shook his head and twitched the tip of his tail, there was no point in trying to change the happy-go-lucky tiger's habits.

Then Gevork spotted that his body had already transformed considerably.  His formerly silky fur now showed distinct tiger-stripe patterns, and his frame had filled out considerably, fitting his workout clothes perfectly. The white V-marking on his face had begun to blur, and his tail had grown longer and more powerful.

"Hey, want to try taking over? Message from your streetball bunny friend," The mention of the bunny from the earlier message triggered a spark of Higinio's memories giving Gevork his name, Barry. "Barry seems to be in a hurry," Gevork suggested internally.

"Oh, heck yeah!" The Siberian tiger's agreement came fast, rippling through their connection like a wave of pure hype. The tiger flexed his spiritual muscles straining as if attempting a heavy lift, and his essence surged with determination. And suddenly, whoa, the ragdoll could experience all of it, seeing the muscular bunny's powerful jumps during streetball games, hearing his leadership on the court, feeling the shared victories and post-game celebrations. 

Higinio's passionate roar rang through their shared mind, carrying the tiger's pure love for the game and his friendship with Barry. And the boundaries between them blurred beautifully as Gevork found himself sharing Higinio's excitement for streetball. He tried to catalog these sensations but kept getting swept away in the intoxicating flow of shared experience.

Higinio's frustrated huff broke through their merged consciousness. "Nah, it's not working," the tiger's presence rumbled sadly.

"It's okay," Gevork responded with a gentle meow sympathetically. "We're not fully warmed up yet. I was just curious if our connection had evolved after all this time together." He slowly blinked and looked around. "What's our next set of exercises?"

Higinio's attention fixed on an empty bench press, their shared excitement making their tail swish with anticipation. But as they got to the bench, a deep voice yelled, "Hold, lad!"

Their ears pivoted toward the sound as a massive draft horse approached. Every movement of the equine's powerful frame spoke of decades dedicated to bodybuilding, his chestnut fur barely containing the rippling muscles and veins beneath. Both Gevork and Higinio stare in a mix of awe and intimidation at the sight of such raw power.

"You must be new here, lad," the draft horse rumbled, a tone mixed with authority and genuine concern. "This isn't the kind of starter bench for your build, and you should look for a simpler one or have a professional spotter monitoring you. One slip from bad lifting can mess you up, and you really don’t want to take that chance."

The Siberian tiger seemed provoked, he practically bellowed through their shared consciousness. “Dude, no way! I’m his best spotter ever! I’ve always got his back… I mean, I’d never let him get hurt, ever!” The ghostly tiger's fierce protective surge rippled through their shared consciousness like a tiger roar, causing Gevork's fur to bristle and a cat hiss to escape before he could stop it.

The draft horse merely raised an eyebrow, his stoic expression suggesting he had witnessed plenty of young hotheads come and go. His serene reaction was like a bowl of cold water, calming Gevork down.

"I'm sorry," Gevork said, their ears and whiskers lowering apologetically. "I actually have some experience, but you're right about the spotter. Would you happen to have a moment? My big bro should be here soon," he added, a suppressed chuckle for the double talk. "I'm Gevork, by the way."

"Duin," the horse responded, his stern expression softening slightly. "Let's see what we're working with here." His large, callused hands moved to assess Gevork's current muscle development.

Gevork changed their stance to better showcase their improved frame. Their muscles stiffened subtly beneath their red-and-white fur as they allowed Duin to feel them.

The firm touches have shown years of weightlifting evident in every rough patch of his palms. Gevork could feel the heat radiating from the Duin’s well-built form through them, and they stayed composed under the professional examination. If a touch like this happened a few months ago, measuring, appreciating, testing, it would caused him a sharp wave of insecurity. 

But now? Now, they stood firm, welcoming it.

Duin's expression shifted to approval as he felt the solid muscle beneath Gevork's fur. "Well, well…seems you've got more under your fur than meets the eye. Alright, I'll spot you." A smile cracked through his serious demeanor. "Just don't get too 'catty' with the weights."

While Gevork managed a polite smile at the pun, Higinio's laughter echoed through their shared consciousness like a sunburst. "Oh-ho! I see what you did there!" Higinio was boomed with joy. "Alright, alright, lemme try—uh… uh… okay! Looks like we’re really pumping up, Eh?!" Gevork's silence was deafening, and their ear twitched in mild horror at the thought of Higinio developing a taste for dad jokes.

The weight plates clicked into place with practiced ease - 70kg total, 10kg and 15kg plates on each side, plus the 20kg bar. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gevork's analytical side tried to question if this was too ambitious, but Higinio's confident enthusiasm about workout had already infected him. Their shared excitement for pushing limits overshadowed his usual cautious approach.

Before settling on the bench, Gevork looked one last time at his messenger bag on the wall, the last anchor to his usual self, before positioning themselves on the bench. Their large paws wrapped around the cold steel bar as Duin positioned himself as a spotter.

"1…2…3…" Each rep sent waves of transformation coursing through their arms. Gevork felt their muscles quiver which was not from tension but from the explosive growth beneath their fur. Their forearms swelled outward, with veins stood out like snakes crawling under the skin, each fiber expanding with tiger power. Their already tight biceps ached as they ballooned larger, becoming legendary, the muscles rolling like boulders beneath their increasingly coarse fur. A thick undercoat sprouted from their upper arms to forearms at the same time, rapidly taking on the coarse, dense texture of a Siberian tiger's coat.

The change rippled up to their paws, which swelled to massive proportions as prominent veins pulsed in sync with their thundering heartbeat. The transformation flowed through each finger, lengthening and broadening their grip. Gevork felt their feline claws lengthen and sharpen, transforming from neat house cat claws into proper tiger weapons, their tips pressing gently into their toughening pawpads. The soft, velvety texture of their ragdoll palms gave way to the firm, powerful grip of a big cat, instinctively tightening around the steel bar with newfound strength. The changes sent thrills of power through their arms with each controlled movement.

"4…5…6…" Their expanding arms cascaded down power into their chest, where their pecs began to swell dramatically. The previously modest muscles beneath ballooned outward from each breath, their chest expanding into the barrel of a big cat. Where Gevork had maintained an average cat build that had never been out of shape, Higinio's powerful frame, the perfect combination of raw strength and athletic grace was asserting itself. Their tank top struggled to contain and stretched to its limits as their pecs grew broader and thicker, spilling out for showing at the sides. They clenched their teeth and made a suppressed moan in their throat as they felt the intimate pressure of Higinio's awesome pecs assuming on their chest again. 

The heat of transformation also brought a new intensity to their body odor. Thick, dense fur sprouted in their armpits, releasing waves of masculine musk, mostly Higinio's distinctive tiger scent. Sweat soaked through their straining gym clothes, each drop carrying that powerful tiger scent rolling down to the bench. He usually had a sense of morality about their body odor and sweats moistening the gym equipment, but not that crossed their mind now. With every breath, Gevork inhaled more of that heady aroma, feeling their usual self-conscious restraint growing hazier. 

"7…8…9…" Gevork's head turned instinctively, their feline muzzle drawing in more deep breaths of their evolving scent. The masculine musk hit him like a drug, earthy and powerful, so different from their former lightsome ragdoll fragrance. It wasn't just smell anymore, it was seeping into Gevork's consciousness, wrapping around his mind like thick battling ropes. The upbringing ragdoll's dignity began to blur, giving way to Higinio's more straightforward, confident mindset, maybe even a bit primal.

Each rep brought another deep, rumbling grunt from their chest. Their voice transformed with each sound, dropping from their usual soft tenor into a rich baritone that seemed to resonate from somewhere deeper within. Their formerly timid vocalizations morphed into powerful ones, never drowned by the sound of fierce competition. The changes rippled up their neck like a wave, their slim throat thickening, trapezius muscles swelling and splitting into defined segments beneath their fur. Their once unappealing neck became a powerful column of muscle, matching their expanding back that stretched their frame broader and wider.

"Good work, lad, now have a break" Duin's voice cut through his transformation haze. "And widen that posture, a big cat like you needs a proper foundation."

Almost moving on its own, Gevork's body followed. Muscle memory and athletic skills possessed by the Siberian tiger, dominated him into a more powerful position. Their paws shifted apart as they surely stepped on the floor, which ignited the enhancement through their lower body. Their feet almost burst against the confines of their shoes, toes lengthening and thickening into massive tiger footpaws. The transformation surged upward, ankles thickening, calves swelling with dense muscle, thighs boosted with powerful quads and hamstrings pushing against each other just before their lower posture spread even wider. Coarse tiger fur climbed upwards from their footpaws, replacing their soft ragdoll coat with the Siberian tiger's unique rusty-red and brown striped pattern.

"Continue." The word rumbled from their throat unbidden, deeper and more powerful than their usual voice. Their newly massive arms that corded with tiger strength moved of their own accord to grasp the bar. Their whiskers twitched forward with anticipation, amber-blue eyes gleaming with a predator's focus that was both foreign and thrillingly natural.

"1…2…3…4…" As the barbell rose above him, a flash of panic sparked in Gevork's mind, his natural instincts screaming about the weight hovering over him. But before he could retreat, Higinio's confident voice resonated out from their muzzle: "I got this, lil bro!" The words carried such natural assurance that Gevork's anxiety melted away instantly. This was what he'd been working toward, after all. He mentally relaxed as he consciously surrendered control, letting Higinio's essence flow through him like warm honey.

From his new passenger perspective, Gevork watched in fascination as their shared form continued its magnificent transformation. Every muscle fiber seemed to sing with power, expanding and defining with perfect symmetry. Every inch of bone is twisting, stretching, and reshaping without pain. Their frame stretched even taller, broader, and more imposing as years of athletic conditioning materialized in mere moments. Their heart raced with excitement as this sensation was so intoxicating that Gevork found himself mentally purring in fascination.

"5…6…7…8…" He savored these moments, knowing from experience that the transformation was already beyond his influence from now on as reality started shifting from their workout clothes.

They morph just as dramatically as their form. Their simple tank top and shorts shimmered like a heat mirage, colors bleeding and reforming into electric blue basketball uniform. The tank top expanded to accommodate their broadening shoulders, the arm holes widening to display their  thickening deltoids and the dense fur now growing in their  armpits. The white trim appeared crisp and sharp against the vibrant blue, emphasizing their  increasingly powerful upper body.

Their modest workout shorts lengthened and loosened, transforming into proper basketball shorts in matching electric blue. The fabric billowed slightly with each movement, the hem settling just above their knees, perfectly highlighting their  newly muscular thighs. The loose fit allowed for the kind of explosive movement a tiger's powerful legs were built for.

Their now significantly larger and more powerful feet burst free of their shoes. In their place materialized a pair of impressive high-tops in matte black leather. Stylized claw marks decorated the sides, almost seeming to glow against the dark base. The rugged side panels hugged their enlarged ankles, providing the support their new frame required. 

Around their forehead and wrists, three heavily used white sweatbands appeared, stained a light yellow from countless games and workouts. Their whiskers twitched as he caught the familiar scent of well-worn athletic gear with their masculinity musk.

The reality transformation had left no trace of Gevork's original outfit, all shifted seamlessly to accommodate Higinio's preferred basketball wear, now sized up to fit their larger, more powerful frame naturally. 

"9…10…11…12…" At their maximum height and mass, the most dramatic change began in their head. The skull restructured itself, muzzle pushing forward and broadening. Their once-soft face gained masculine angles, cheekbones becoming more pronounced under the striped fur. Their ears twitched and stretched upward, the rounded tips sharpening and sprouting the characteristic tufts of a Siberian tiger.

Their small pink nose darkened to a rich salmon color and expanded, immediately drawing in the powerful scents around them with new intensity. Duin's earthy, grounding scent mixed with their own powerful musk, creating an aromatic symphony that their enhanced olfactory sense could fully appreciate. New whiskers sprouted alongside their original ones, thicker and more robust, framing Higinio's characteristic bright smile.

Sadly, the brief loss of consciousness after the swap had no way to avoid it. Gevork's consciousness began to drift like ice under the sun. He vaguely registered Duin's puzzled mumblings about why help to spot what was clearly an experienced gym goer, but the words grew distant and fuzzy. Higinio's warm, vibrant presence expanded through their shared mind like sunshine breaking through clouds, and Gevork surrendered willingly to the comfortable darkness of sleep, knowing their body was safe in big bro's capable paws.

"1…2…3…" The final wave of transformation swept over their body like a tide. The remaining soft, bicolor fur rippled and changed, rich reddish-rust color bleeding outward from their core. Dark brown stripes carved their way across their frame in nature's perfect pattern, each stripe unique to Higinio like a fingerprint. Their muscle definition also reached its peak,  powerful shoulders, broad chest, thick arms, and strong legs all arranged in the classic V-taper of a seasoned athlete. Small scars and calluses appeared on their paw pads and knuckles, telling little misfortune stories of Higinio.

"13…14…15!" The final rep ended with Higinio's signature roaring laugh that mixed a tiger's powerful vocalization with pure enjoyment, echoing off the gym walls and making the mirrors vibrate. He collapsed backward onto the bench, spreading his arms wide and grinning up at the ceiling. His sharp predator's tiger teeth, which should have been intimidating, somehow only added to his cheerful charm. Around the gym, other patrons responded with friendly whistles and chuckles, just another day with the enthusiastic tiger.

Duin took a step to the side and extended his hand to help the Siberian tiger stand. His expression was both amused and professional as he said, "Remember, even experts like us need a spotter. Always better to be safe than sorry."

Higinio's burning amber eyes lit up as he grabbed the offered hand, his tail swishing with excitement. "Ohhh, big facts, bro!" he beamed, throwing both massive paws up in double thumbs-up, with the muscles pulsing and squeezing his entire pecs more prominent. "You're my gym guardian angel. Wings and all, like—strong wings, y'know?" His whiskers twitched forward with ears perked in enthusiasm.

Duin could only shake his head and smile at the tiger's characteristic enthusiasm. Higinio bounced to his feet, his powerful frame moving with natural athletic grace despite its size. While he opened his muzzle, ready to launch into his usual routine of gym chat, a sharp yet familiar ringtone interrupted him. Higinio's ears perked up as he fished out the phone from Gevork's messenger bag that was untouched by reality alteration in the corner. Turned on with his large tiger paw, the screen showed the alarm message thoughtfully set by his lil bro: "Remember the time, big bro"

Higinio's amber eyes went wide, and he let out a gasp that sounded more like a startled cub than a massive tiger. "Oh shoot, STREETBALL!" His booming voice almost succeeded in shaking Duin. "Dude, I gotta go!" His tail went straight up in alarm. He spun around so fast he nearly tripped over his massive paws, recovered with all the grace of an excited feline, and bounded toward the exit. His powerful legs carried him in enthusiastic strides that made the floor shake slightly, his basketball shorts swishing with each movement. The electric blue jersey rippled over his muscular frame as he burst through the doors, nearly forgetting to open them first.

Down the street, the Siberian tiger thundered with the unbridled joy rather than the calculated grace of a predator. His big basketball shoes slapped against the pavement with powerful steps, practically bouncing down the sidewalk. His long tail swung wildly for balance, and sweat slid down his strong back, before dissipating into white mists in the air.

Panting (more from excitement than actual exertion), Higinio slid onto the basketball court as his high-tops squeaking on the concrete. He came to a stop right in front of Barry,nearly bowling over the muscular bunny who was mid-stretch.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, bro," Barry said as he hop back a bit.

Higinio's face split into a massive grin, whiskers twitching with barely contained excitement as they performed their bro handshake, with Higinio adding extra fist bumps and wiggling his ears in rhythm.

"You ready for the game?" Barry asked while knewing the answer by watching the tiger practically vibrate with energy.

Higinio flexing his impressive arms and puffing out his chest. "Oh, for sure! I just got PUMPED!" He emphasized the word by flexing harder. "Like, literally, bro. In the gym. Y'know…catty, pumping, wings all that jazz. HAHAHA~" His booming laugh shook his whole frame as he looked expectantly at Barry, clearly waiting for appreciation of his terrible pun.

Barry's nose twitched in confusion. "Wait, what?"

But Higinio was already doubled over with laughter at his own joke, his striped tail curling with mirth, massive paws clutching his sides. Higinio's eyes sparkled with delight, his sharp teeth gleaming in a smile that somehow managed to be both goofy and endearing on his powerful predator's face. His pure happiness was so infectious that Barry found himself chuckling too, even though he hadn't understood the joke at all.