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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
“We don’t do love magic.”, October 17, 2025

The witch girls are a clique of girls at school who can supposedly perform magic. You and your friend Morag have decided to turn to them for help. You want boyfriends. But they tell you: "We don't do love magic."

As if that's going to stop you.

Taking matters into your own hands, you and Morag recreate this spell to create perfect boyfriends. (Be careful what you wish for.)

Gameplay
The gameplay experience is based on how you cast the boyfriend-creating spell. Failure to do it correctly produces… unexpected results. The spell determines which of the three gameplay paths you take, while the specific ending you reach is determined by decisions made later in the game.

The game keeps track of every possible route/path on a page that is made accessible after your first playthrough. Here, you can skip the intro and start after the spell has been cast, allowing you to dive right into the story. This feature was incredibly helpful for replays.

Story
Generally, the game is about agency, longing for independence, and realizing that the grass is often greener on the other side of the fence. It also serves as a demonstration of the dangers of a 13-year-old girl having unrestricted access to magic.

There was a freedom in it, in asking for what you wanted, without the mediation of parents or schools or big sisters. Magic might not have gotten you results, but it got you something better: power, or the idea of it, at least.

That is, until you do get results.

(Spoiler - click to show)

If you do the spell perfectly, two boys wash up onto the beach and into your life. No one suspects a thing. At school, the boys are popular and only have eyes for you and Morag. But it all feels hollow and superficial. Your “boyfriend” lacks the texture of a human with real human experience. Something must be done.

Unsurprisingly, there is no “happily ever after.” By the end, the boys cease to exist. How this happens depends on your choices. And sure enough, no one notices the boys’ absence.

Creating a perfect boyfriend as planned can be considered as the game’s “generic route.” It leans slightly towards slice-of-life rather than horror because it feels more introspective. I do, however, agree with the game calling it the (Spoiler - click to show)“Zombie Route.”

Ultimately, though, this is a horror game. There are other routes.

Let’s say we do a poor job with casting the spell. What could possibly go wrong?

(Spoiler - click to show)

The creature had been washed ashore by the low tide, and foam and specs of wet sand clung to its translucent, lumpy body.

WHAT.

I was shocked to find, not a fully formed human, but a milky jellyfish-like blob… with eyes. There’s even a (non-graphic but still unsettling) grainy picture.

Of course, Morag is like, “awesome, I’ll take mine home with me,” leaving the player with a decision: reject it or care for it?

The skin-crawling moment in the game is when Morag convinces us to eat it (as the player, you can opt out of this), resulting in us becoming pregnant with something. It’s wild.

She took a set of camping utensils out of her bag and handed them to you.

You took them with trembling hands.

Stop. Stop. Stop. (But I must find every ending…!)

I mean this in a good way. Its gradual buildup does an effective job at making you want to squirm out of your chair. The author strikes the right balance of icky descriptiveness without being excessive. It’s also set into a context.

The jellyfish eating scene is framed as a rite of passage to adulthood. Morag became pregnant after eating hers and insists we do the same. The protagonist is not entirely sure what it means to be an adult, but if eating this gelatinous blob (which has started growing teeth, btw) is a step in the right direction, so be it.

So, there you go. The Witch Girls can take you in some unexpected directions.

Characters
PC
The protagonist is unnamed and has a surface-level backstory which allows the player to step into her shoes without being distracted by characterization. And yet, the whole fiasco of fabricated boyfriends is still an opportunity for character development.

Like everyone, she judges her peers, and these judgments are mixed in with what she knows about her world. A common theme is how she views herself as separate from those girls, only to reevaluate what “those girls” even means, and whether she might actually be one of them. This is usually referring to sex but can overlap with other things.

You weren’t like those chavvy girls who slept with their fourth-year boyfriends and got pregnant. You were better than them.

(Spoiler - click to show)

Ending 1C begs to differ. Sort of. You get pregnant by eating a mutant blob that was supposed to be a human boyfriend.

There’s a tug-of-war between her passing judgement and her also wanting to partake in the exact things she judges. It becomes an on-going journey of self-discovery.

(Spoiler - click to show)

For example, in the “Zombie Route,” Morag sleeps with her boyfriend and reveals the experience to be underwhelming. The protagonist grapples with this letdown and ponders what it implies about her friend.

Her nonchalance was a blow. You refused to believe her. She’d become that kind of girl.

We then have the option to follow suit with our own boyfriend. If we do, the protagonist comes to the same conclusion as Morag: It was unremarkable. There was no transformation. The game ends shortly after, but it’s enough to see some new insight.

NPCs
I was hoping that we would get to learn a little more about the witch girls we first meet, especially since one of them is Morag’s sister. Shortly after they refuse to help us, they give up witchcraft altogether, freeing up the hut they used as a meeting space. I wonder how they learned not to mess with love magic.

(In that regard, I like how there’s an unofficial passing of the mantle with most of the endings. (Spoiler - click to show)The protagonist and Morag like to hang out in the witch girls’ hut, and whenever someone comes to them for assistance they say, “We don’t do love magic.” Clever way of bringing things full circle.)

Visuals
The game’s appearance is both simple and memorable. It uses a light blue background with black text in a basic but fun font. Most scenes have a small black-and-white picture in the upper left-hand corner that adds atmosphere without being distracting. The picture of the pencils with the smiley-face erasers resonated with me.

Final thoughts
The Witch Girls was a lot of fun. The protagonist is giddy with what magic can achieve for her, and this excitement is felt by the player as well. Horror and humor are equally intertwined, and the author captures a sense of nostalgia by name-dropping music, clothing brands, and pop culture.

My only complaint is how the original witch girls are glossed over. What’s their story? Just a little more explanation would have provided dimension instead of them being shoved aside. Are we just mirror reflections of them, if only a bit younger (and cooler, of course)?

That aside, The Witch Girls excels in every department. Play it, and you’ll learn why it’s best to steer clear from love magic.

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