These be dark time, fellow pilgrims. In every commune are the frightened whispers of mutuals who speak o'er what ought to be left unspoken: witches. Some claim that foolish young waifs have banded together in the grove of copyright-free song and dance to perform dark Satanic rituals, cursing the moon and bringing damnation upon all our heads! Hark! Ye can near hear their mad cackling carried in the winds. Sksksks. Sksksk.
With witches ditching their spellbooks for smartphones, a lot of witchcraft now happens online. And what better place for these covens to congregate than on TikTok, the one social media app specifically designed for chanting and dancing under the pale light of the moon -- or some dorm room LEDs. The platform is particularly popular with "baby witches," the first generation of puka-shelled neophytes to be learning the craft who are actually younger than the movie The Craft.
But with youth comes recklessness and rebelliousness. Recently, online witches started flying about social media cursing (but not actually cursing) a small coven of rogue WitchTok witches. These baby witches had posted videos of them casting foul hexes not only on the Fae, the ancient and fickle fairies of folklore, but the moon itself. And this was no accidental and I oop. These VSCO witches sought out to challenge their elders as if to call them out for being a bunch of dusty old c-words (crones) too scared to clap back at Mother Moon and her Fae boomers.
So, is the moon about to go mad and crash into the earth Majora's Mask-style? No. Both social media's worrying witches and their taunting trolls can agree that a bunch of bored teens will never be able to destroy the moon. But it's just not their teen magic that has upset the other witches it's also the public relations fallout. In the witchcraft community, throwing a hex at the moon is like chucking a molotov cocktail at Mecca. Their insolence will no doubt incite retaliation from tricksy Fae and Mother Moon, who's now more pissed off than the time we shot a rocket into her eye.
And worst of all, it will also draw the ire of witchcraft's many moon-adjacent gods, deities who tend to be associated with healing magic and the medicinal bounties of nature. And if these baby witches had bothered to finish Witchcraft 101 before casting hexes, they would've learned the first rule of survival: You don't go around cursing the gods of healing during a plague. That's how you wind up on a burning stake.
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