Labubu Burnings & Pazuzu: Ritual or Digital-Age Superstition?

The internet has a way of turning innocent collectables into objects of terror. The latest victim?  Labubu, the eccentric toy with an elf-like appearance that was initially clueless to the market but then became the internet’s most-loved toy before it got caught up in the weirdest moral panic. A simple, lovable plaything turned into a current frenzy of mass torching, splashings of holy water, and angry discussions on whether a toy company from Hong Kong has unintentionally come up with the invention of evil energy going around, or not.

Labubu’s rise to trend status is largely attributed to Hong Kong artist Kasing Lung, who created the character, and Pop Mart, who turned it into a popular blind box toy series. The combination of Lung’s unique character design, inspired by Nordic mythology, and Pop Mart’s clever marketing strategy, including the blind box format and celebrity endorsements, propelled Labubu into a global phenomenon. BLACKPINK’s Lisa is widely credited with significantly boosting the popularity of Labubu dolls, particularly after she was seen with a Labubu charm on her handbag. This led to other celebrities like Rihanna, Dua Lipa, and Kim Kardashian also being spotted with the dolls, further fueling the trend. The doll’s popularity also surged in India, with celebrities like Ananya Panday joining the trend.

In June 2025, social media platforms exploded with claims linking Labubu dolls to Pazuzu, an ancient Mesopotamian demon. The connection seems tenuous at best. Critics point to Pazuzu’s “lion or doglike face” with “notably bulging eyes” as resembling the cartoon Labubu, and that has led to this trend spreading like wildfire across TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube.

The Ancient Demon Behind the Labubu Panic

To understand this panic, we need to look at who Pazuzu actually was. This Assyrian and Babylonian figure wasn’t just any demon; he was considered the king of wind demons, son of Hanbi and brother to Humbaba.  But here’s where the story gets even more surprising: people in ancient times actually turned to the demon Pazuzu for help against other evil spirits, particularly for the protection of women and kids. The archaeologists have located the demon Pazuzu amulets and statuettes deposited in times and places considered to be the safest in the house, at times directly facing the door, as protective talismans.

The contemporary horror of Pazuzu is largely due to his lead character in “The Exorcist,” where writer William Peter Blatty turned a protective demon into the demon who was the one possessing young Regan MacNeil, a fictional character in the book. Pop culture had already rewritten Pazuzu’s story once; now social media is doing it again.

When Cute Becomes Cursed

The Labubu-Pazuzu theory didn’t emerge overnight. Conspiracy theories about the dolls having demonic ties started circulating in late 2024. Some of the earliest examples came from Christian TikTokers. By June 2025, the theory had reached critical mass, with believers claiming the dolls were literally possessed.

The response was swift and dramatic. Some people are even burning their Labubus or blessing them with holy water to purge any evil. Videos began appearing of Chinese fans burning their collections to “rid themselves of evil energy,”. This turned what should have been a quirky collector’s market into something resembling a medieval witch trial.

The irony is hard to miss. These modern demon-hunters are destroying toys that supposedly channel a demon who was originally invoked for protection. It’s mythology eating its own tail in real time.

Labubu, Urban Legends, and the Algorithm

What we’re witnessing isn’t really about ancient demons or cursed toys; it’s about how folklore adapts to digital spaces. Social media has turned into a contemporary campfire, at which urban legends are not just whispered, but they get amplified by algorithms. One TikTok that connects bulging cartoon eyes to the ancient iconography can reach millions in a few hours, with the only source of credibility being repetition, not fact.

Fact-checkers have found no evidence supporting the Pazuzu connection, including in interviews with Labubu’s creator. The resemblance between a contemporary toy and ancient art appears to be purely coincidental, the kind of pattern-matching that human brains excel at, especially when primed for supernatural explanations.

The Real Demons We’re Fighting

The Labubu burning phenomenon reveals something deeper about our digital age anxieties. Viral trends can turn unknown artists into billionaires overnight. Algorithms shape how we see reality. People start craving explanations that feel deeper and more certain. The line between real and fake keeps blurring. Many search for meaning beyond market forces or social media tricks.

Believing that Labubu’s popularity has supernatural roots feels more satisfying than accepting that a toy just caught the right cultural wave. Some believers even argue that demonic influence explains why they shot to popularity so ridiculously quickly.

Ritual in the Age of Screenshots

The mass burning of Labubu dolls represents a fascinating evolution of ritual behaviour. These aren’t traditional religious ceremonies but improvised digital-age exorcisms, performed as much for social media as for spiritual relief. The act of destruction becomes both personal catharsis and public performance. People share it across platforms to show moral purity and warn others.

This isn’t the first time cute objects have triggered mass hysteria. Furbies sparked rumours about recording conversations. Schools banned Pokémon cards for allegedly promoting occultism. The Labubu scare shows how quickly the internet can create and spread modern legends. In just a few weeks, collectors turn a toy into a cultural battlefield.

People burning dolls and blessing collections reflect modern fears more than ancient demons. Their actions reveal anxiety about control and unseen influence. We fear losing agency, falling under invisible pressures, and facing the truth that unknown forces often shape what we want and believe.

In trying to banish Pazuzu, these modern demon-hunters might be fighting the wrong enemy entirely. The real demons of our age aren’t ancient wind spirits; they’re the algorithms that decide what we see, want, and fear.