We have to assume that, if you inflicted even normal, real-world toilet needs on a fantasy RPG adventurer, they'd immediately give themselves over to diapers. There are no toilets in town, let alone a dungeon. Just push into your hero pants.

Blaming thought-incontinence every time you forget something until your body catches on and makes you regular incontinent (and thought-incontinent too but you don't notice the thoughts you push out because y'know, they're gone).

Diapercritter insisting that it's definitely their occupant messing inside of them that's causing the soiling and that they aren't just churning them directly into shit. It's funny how the moaning has stopped but the mess just keeps growing.

Teaching you to fear sweet smells over bad smells because my soft serve accidents eclipse any kind of normal messes and my fruity gas makes you even more productive than that for a day or so.

...and a heavily-bloated and pink-stained diaper which comes with a new "Ice Cream Produced" stat that's already in the thousands of litres.

I could be charitable as a diapercritter. I'd give you two options after I captured you in my continence-sapping, padded body: Escape me deeply altered or never escape me.

Giving you a candymessing curse that ramps up in quantity over time until it can't be contained in toilets or diapers and large piles begin to accumulate. Excellent. Now you can either start pushing harder and give up on containing your messes or I'll remove the whole "candy" aspect retroactively.

Each anomaly excuses the next. I'm a wonder sheep so my waste is ice cream. My waste is ice cream so I always hypermess. I hypermess ice cream so everyone wants a taste.

I'm so glad we hotfixed reality to turn all poisons into opaque purple sludge that make you feel all fuzzy on touch and make you mess your diaper over and over if ingested.

Watching the diaperlust contagion overtake the city with amusement as a person with a pre-existing, controlled diaper kink. Playing the role of an ally to the uninfected well until it's time for the betrayal you've been so excited for that plunges the chances to beat the curse into single digits.

So has your favourite sex position always been sitting on someone's face as you fill your diaper or has it always been having your face sat on by someone as they fill their diaper?

We can infer that the four elements is an effective model of the universe because they can be mapped to the different things you can do in a diaper: Soak (Water), Fart (Air), Mess (Earth), Cum (Fire).

Wizard looking at a party member's diaper intently as they bemoan about needing something to swell and grow as a catalyst for the gigantification spell they want to cast. If only something could suddenly soak up a whole bunch of liquid to its wearer's surprise.

Inflicting the one SFW/one AD system on people with just a horny account and diaperkink account. Either being a horny animal shifts into being your day-to-day and diapers become the only way you cum or your horny account stays the same but diapers become inseparable from normal life.

I adore how many sona names are just normal words that sound name-y enough. I'm going to rename yours Fwump for reasons that will soon become evident.

Same thing here except I should actually look like that. Put my likeness on padding. Feel funny when you look at it. Fail to potty train. Get thicker padding with more room for prints. Stare more and love me harder. Forget about the potty. Fail. Fail. Fail.

People always say that they would be able to tell and avoid me if I treated my wool with incontinence powder but that's because they assume this is just a hypothetical and not something I've been doing for days.

You can tell who hasn't been visited by a reality warper by the presence of a toilet in their home. You can tell who's been visited by a novice reality warper by the presence of a conspicuous extra sink where a toilet could go. You can't tell who's been visited by an expert reality warper.

Granted damage resistance versus ass slaps that takes the form of you instantly manifesting a diaper poofy enough to cushion the blow to nearly nothing. This has lead to your friend's experimenting with bowling balls and seesaws.

It's good when your diaper kink account feels like your other account after it got reality warped hard. It's good when you can imagine people going "What happened to you??" as you switch accounts.

Slipping into a world much like your own but everyone is sleepwalking in thick diapers while sheep attend to them and chat to each other. Before you get far, there's a hoof on your shoulder. You wake up (or fall back asleep?) in your normal world with a phantom sensation of wearing padding.

Lowering the skill ceiling for potty training so that no amount of practice will get you any more control than not wetting yourself if you reach a toilet within a minute of feeling the urge.

Roguelike kink game with no progression or saving of data between runs except for one enemy who permanently appends "and incontinent." to any stat screens or game over text in all subsequent runs after you lose to them once ever.

The polymorph magic designed to turn a creature into a slightly weaker one recognises different ages of dragons as different creatures so it just regresses any dragons it affects.

Cursed ring of saturation that removes your need to eat but causes you to spend all the time you saved not doing so filling your diaper.

There's no fun in reality warping a whole species to be diaper-dependent because every species you can think of to target has always been diaper-dependent. Desperate to scratch that itch, you finally consider turning on your own species, but of course you've all been diaper-dependent forever too.

Pressing a soaked diaper-TF victim against a dry one, causing the dry one to become fully soaked too and *feel* like its having an accident of its own.

Filling your diaper at the same time and rate as the slimes push themselves down your throat, as if your whole body is hollow except for a TF hoop into waste. It would've been better to notice this effect from a one-off encounter rather than making it into the nest of thousands first.

The reality warp transformation into a dumb, drooly diapersheep was subtle and gradual in its every aspect *except* for the diaper, which poofed into existence at a comical size just in time for your first helpless accident of many.

Diaper kinks are cool because you can have a facesitting mood but also an alt facesitting mood with bonus features.

The sheep who kept turning people into diapers is once again trying (and failing) to train out of them. Now they just turn people into bedsheets to replace all the ones they soak at night.

Turning a messing-refuser into a plush because they have no aversion pushing stuffing into their diaper, then turning them back immediately after and the stuffing into mess alongside them. Oops, too late to stop those mental connections from forming.

The funny consequence of sounding being a relatively niche kink is that the anal beads of messing incontinence are used a lot more frequently than the sounding rod of wetting incontinence. I'm sure you'll graduate to big soaky accidents later but for now it's just surprise pushies for you.

Yes, parrying can happen in a diaper context. If I'm sat on your face and I mess heavily right when you try to struggle free, that attempt is crushed immediately and your innate tendency to snoof diapers goes up permanently.

Sheep knocking on your door and asking to use your toilet. You let them in and later discover your toilet is gone and has been replaced by a stack of diapers. Sheep knocking on your neighbour's door...

Curse of can't cum because you need to piss so bad and can't piss because you're too erect. You make a cute bulge in that diaper you're begging to be able to use.

Part of the beauty of hypercandymessing is that you honestly don't need diapers anymore. They overflow immediately, it's so loud when you fill them and the mess is pleasant enough that you're less motivated to contain it all. But you still wear diapers, don't you? You make them work no matter what.

The constant orgasms from breathing aphrodisiac gas don't go away when the gas dissipates. You need another gas for that. It comes from sheep ass, smells better than your former favourite smell, and prevents *all* orgasms you would've had from now on (revealed after you've been huffing for an hour).

Bumping someone with your hips to convert all of your need to piss into their need to mess.

Sheep who spikes the elixir of life with laxatives whenever they get bored. The lack of control becomes eternal, just like the rest of the drinker's body.

The second best part of being afflicted with hypercandymessing is learning that your ice cream output is unlimited, perfectly clean and delicious enough to serve to all your friends. The best part of being afflicted is learning that your output is addictive and spreads the curse to overconsumers.

I think my ultimate plan is getting some people into candymess and then into candyscat in general. I need people pushing out gallons of ice cream.

It took the great evil a lot of time studying the prophecy and estimating positions to make it happen, but the diaper, pacifier and regression dart traps were all perfectly placed to hit you when you struck a combat pose upon entering their throne room.

Diapers enable pvp for sheep. Turns out all those collaborative herd instincts turn into intense desire to ruin someone the moment they show the right kind of weakness.

Fun Fact: Groping a used diaper involves the exact same hand gestures as casting a skunk TF spell.

In celebration of Skunktember, spraying in your diaper will make your body repeat every mess and orgasm you've had in it so far that day. Furthermore, in the sense of equality, everyone will find themselves able to spray this Skunktember.

Turns out the "CONT." you were spending to keep playing that arcade game was continence, not continues.

If you suck me off, you become bladder incontinent; if you rim me, you become bowel incontinent; if you kiss me, you become orgasm incontinent; if you worship my hooves, you lose walking on two legs. The fun was seeing how many I could get you to tick off in one night without telling you.

Combining Russian roulette and laxative roulette with a gun that fires nothing but has a 1/6 chance of making you mess on the spot.

Always amusing how, whenever you bless someone with not needing food or drink, they assume that automatically extends to not needing to pee until they soak their pants.