Related products

• 

  Seven Word Story: Lust Perfume Oil

  Quoth one of the wordiest humans who ever lived: “Brevity is the soul of wit.”

  This spring we challenged friends and fans to answer that call, baring their souls (and more) in our steamy, Lust-themed #BPAL7wordstory contest

  “Seduce us in seven!” we demanded, promising the winning story would be enshrined in a Limited Edition fragrance. The response was overwhelming — and downright filthy. Over eight hundred entries later, Lust found its new champion. The winning story, submitted via Twitter by @GeekDame, took flight in our perfumer’s imagination and resulted in the following myth-tinged tryst.

  Congrats to the winner, and keep your quills sharp! #BPAL7wordstory is only getting started.

  He breathed smoke across her pomegranate-stained lips.

  Chthonic incense and blood-red pomegranate.

  Out of Stock
• 

  The Witch Queen Perfume Oil

  On a rocky mountain pass, on the southernmost slopes of Mount Belly, the witch-queen reined in her goat-drawn chariot and stopped and sniffed the chilly air.

  The myriad stars hung cold in the sky above her.

  Her red, red lips curved up into a smile of such beauty, such brilliance, such pure and perfect happiness that it would have frozen your blood in your veins to have seen it. “There,” she said. “She is coming to me.”

  And the wind of the mountain pass howled about her triumphantly, as if in answer.

  Wild plum, red musk, tuberose, calla lily, heliotrope, pimento, ylang ylang and beeswax beneath a dark haze of sinister purple-hued incense smoke.

  Out of Stock
• 

  Philologus Perfume Oil

  The Philologi are scholars and philosophers that have dedicated themselves to the pursuit of knowledge, utilizing their extended lifespan to further their research. They are usually reclusive, and some were once Transeo that have rejected the bustle of human society in favor of solitude.

  Ancient books, crackled parchment, faded incense, and candle wax.

  Add to cart
• 

  Al Azif Perfume Oil

  An Arabic term that refers to both the chirping of nocturnal insects and the ambient sound made by the chattering of demons. This is the original title of the feared Necronomicon, the Book of Dead Names, penned by the Mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred.

  Nor is it to be thought that man is either the oldest or the last of earth’s masters, or that the common bulk of life and substances walks alone. The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them, They walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen. Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth’s fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. By Their smell can men sometimes know Them near, but of Their semblance can no man know, saving only in the features of those They have begotten on mankind; and of those are there many sorts, differing in likeness from man’s truest eidolon to that shape without sight or substance which is Them. They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through at their Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites. Kadath in the cold waste hath known Them, and what man knows Kadath? The ice desert of the South and the sunken isles of Ocean hold stones where Their seal is engraven, but who hath seen the deep frozen city or the sealed tower long garlanded with seaweed and barnacles? Great Cthulhu is Their cousin, yet can he spy Them only dimly. Iä! Shub-Niggurath! As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold. Yog-Sothoth is the key to the gate, whereby the spheres meet. Man rules now where They ruled once; They shall soon rule where man rules now. After summer is winter, and after winter summer. They wait patient and potent, for here shall They reign again.

  A sinister, sinuous incense of summoning, a herald and paean to the Primordial Gods of Darkness, Chaos, Madness and Decay.

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page