Are Labubu Dolls Cursed? The Creepy History Behind Their Creation

From the beginning, I’ve been wondering: Why are fashionable women tying stuffed animals to their designer bags? Why are people paying up to thousands of dollars for these accessories? This all makes little sense to me, but nonetheless, here we are. Labubus may look innocent enough. Just a grinning, wide-eyed figure with exaggerated ears and a mischievous face, like something out of a whimsical Tim Burton daydream. But this latest obsession in designer toy culture has a darker history than most collectors know. And some owners are saying the nightmare doesn’t end with its eerie backstory. From viral videos to thousand-dollar resell tags, Labubu has swept through TikTok, collector forums, and Gen Z bedrooms like a fever dream. But behind the aesthetic lies something older, more sinister. Now there’s tales of ancient demons, psychological marketing tactics, and first-hand accounts of unexplained chaos. Let’s unravel what Labubu really is, and why people are starting to wonder if it should have ever been invited into their space in the first place. The Origin of Labubu Labubu is the brainchild of Kasing Lung , a Hong Kong-based artist known for creating otherworldly characters. Labubu is part of his The Monsters series and is produced in collaboration with Pop Mart, the Chinese collectible toy empire famous for its blind-box marketing model. Pop Mart toys are sold without revealing which figure you’re getting; creating an addictive, lottery-like thrill for buyers. Labubu’s design is a paradox. It blends a childlike sense of fantasy with a grotesque, even unsettling aesthetic. While many describe it as “cute,” its wild eyes, sharp teeth, and goblin-esque grin evoke something closer to folklore tricksters than cartoon mascots. In the world of toy design, it’s brilliant. In the world of spiritual symbolism? It’s a red flag. The Pazuzu Connection Here’s where things get equally interesting and uncomfortable. A handful of collectors and spiritual researchers have pointed out Labubu’s uncanny resemblance to Pazuzu , an ancient Mesopotamian demon known as the “king of the demons of the wind.” In ancient lore, Pazuzu was associated with bringing famine, plague, and destructive storms. He’s perhaps most well-known as the demonic entity that possesses Regan in The Exorcist , the film that popularized his terrifying image for modern audiences. Both Labubu and Pazuzu share exaggerated features: wide, manic eyes; sharp, animalistic teeth; pointed ears; and a general aura of mischief turned malevolent. The connection may seem like a stretch, until you remember that Pazuzu was often depicted smiling in ancient carvings, a trick to confuse humans about his true intentions. Some folklorists believe the resemblance isn’t accidental. The toy’s chaotic grin and devil-may-care energy seem to mimic the “trickster demon” archetype across cultures: the creature who pretends to play but opens doors to darker forces. And while you may choose to believe or not believe in demons, there is no doubt that this toy’s design taps into something primal—unnerving yet magnetic, playful yet unsettling. It’s the kind of aesthetic that blurs the line between cute and cursed, inviting fascination while leaving a faint, lingering unease. Labubu’s Rise: Viral Marketing, Blind Boxes, and Manufactured Obsession Pop Mart didn’t just design a toy, they intentionally crafted a cultural phenomenon. Using scarcity models borrowed from luxury fashion, Pop Mart rolled out Labubu figures in limited-edition blind boxes, creating a collector’s frenzy. Algorithms helped: TikTokers began filming “Labubu unboxings,” gaining views in the millions. The randomness of what figure you’d get made buyers feel like gamblers. Some even refer to the process as “chasing the dragon.” The brand leaned into this obsession. “Secret” Labubu variants were created, available at odds as low as 1 in 144. This FOMO-fueled rush to collect rare versions pushed resale prices into the thousands and established Labubu not as a toy, but a status symbol. But what many buyers didn’t question was the emotional effect Labubu seemed to have. On camera, it was harmless, cheeky, even fun. But in real life, some owners started to notice... something wasn’t right. When the Fun Stops: Hauntings, Bad Luck, and Emotional Shifts If you scroll through the #Labubu hashtag on TikTok or Reddit’s Pop Mart forums long enough, you’ll start to see a different story emerge. One that sounds more like a horror film than a toy trend. Some people claim that their Labubus moved around the house on their own . Others claim to be suddenly struggling with insomnia . These aren’t just isolated incidents, either. Dozens of similar stories have emerged. People report sudden emotional shifts after displaying the toy; feeling drained, irritable, or plagued by anxiety. Some even describe physical symptoms: headaches, insomnia, or that stomach-churning sense of being watched. And while correlation isn’t causation, the sheer volume of these reports has left many wondering: what is Labubu actually channeling? The Psychology of Toy Possession: Why It’s Not Just “In Your Head” Skeptics argue these experiences can be explained by the power of suggestion. If people believe Labubu is cursed, they’ll start to notice (or imagine) negative coincidences. That’s true, but only to a point. Psychologists have studied how objects, especially those with humanoid or anthropomorphic features, can influence our emotions and thoughts. Known as the “uncanny valley effect," the closer something looks to humans without being quite right, the more it triggers subconscious unease. Labubu fits this mold perfectly. It feels almost childlike… until it doesn’t. In spiritual traditions around the world, physical objects can carry energy. Items can be blessed or cursed. In Catholicism, statues can be conduits of divine presence. In African and Latin American traditions, dolls or carvings can become spiritual vessels. Could Labubu, even if unintentionally, be functioning as such a vessel? Pop Mart has never commented on these reports, and there is no “official” link to anything occult or demonic. But the question lingers: if Labubu were influenced by something darker, would we even be told? A Cautionary Tale for Our Consumer Era Labubu isn’t the first cute item with dark energy claims. Furbies in the 90s , Annabelle the doll, and even certain AI toys have been accused of strange behavior. But Labubu’s story is unique because of how intentional the obsession around it is. This wasn’t an innocent children’s toy. It was a heavily marketed object designed to induce craving, emotional attachment, and compulsion. And we fell for it. Even if you don’t believe in demons or curses, Labubu’s rise reveals something just as eerie: our vulnerability to symbolism, to suggestion, to things that look harmless but feel wrong. We are deeply spiritual creatures, whether we acknowledge it or not, and when we invite something strange into our homes, we invite in more than we bargain for. Should You Keep Your Labubu? If you already own a Labubu and haven’t experienced any of these crazy tales, then count yourself fortunate and consider if you’d like to be part of the Labubu fan base. But if you’ve been noticing shifts; emotionally, relationally, or energetically, it might be worth paying attention. Try moving it to a different space. Some owners have found peace by rehoming or discarding the figure altogether. And maybe, next time we’re tempted by something cute but creepy, we pause and ask: why do I want this? What am I inviting in? What need is this fulfilling? Because sometimes, the scariest things don’t look scary at all. Sometimes, they come in shiny boxes with glittery eyes and a grin that won’t leave you alone.