Spoil the Goddexx 💸🎪🍬

Deep in the holler, past the busted carousel that still creaks out a tune nobody wound up, past the string lights that flicker like they've got their own heartbeat — that's where you'll find me. I come from a long line of witches and fae deities, sugar. This ain't a costume. It's a bloodline, rhinestones, red dirt, and all. The woods taught me the sweetest things are the ones freely given, not begged for, not demanded. So a Haint's Tithe is never required here. But baby, it is always appreciated, and the woods do love to be fed.

Think of it as glitter left out at midnight ... a little something to see what crawls out from between the trees in full face, cracked porcelain smile and all. A porch light left burning for a haint who does her makeup like war paint and her mood swings like weather fronts. A tithe set out just to whisper "I was thinking about you, Goddexx" into the dark ... and something out there always whispers back.

Send a little something, and you're testing whether the fae in the trees is watching. She is. She's always watching, humming some carnival tune under her breath. Keep it up a while, and you've earned yourself a name ... one of my little haints, following the porch light home, sweet as bubblegum, sticky as a spiderweb, and just as easy to get caught in. Go all in, and you become a whole devoted little haunting I carry around with me after, the kind of tribute that earns its own spotlight when the carousel lights flicker on.

Play sweet, show manners, and you'll find I'm generous with my attention ... a little southern drawl, a little unhinged clown magic, a whole lot of glamour for the ones who know how to treat a Goddexx right. Cross me, and, well... the woods have a way of dealing with rude company. My little haints know better.

Throne: throne.com/bansheemoth
Cash App: upon request only, ask nicely

No pressure, no games — just good manners, a Haint's Tithe now and then, and maybe a wink from somewhere in the dark. 🍬🎪🧚‍♀️