#oc: helena grinspoon

[on-wine-dark-seas]

💎 Helena Grinspoon

Can't wait for y'all to meet this heinous bitch oh my god.

[on-wine-dark-seas]

One of the things I like the most about Daughter of Disgrace is how Sukuna decides to use his true form to fight Gojo, if Gojo had seen Sukuna in his true form I bet he would be blushing during the whole damn fight LOL I guess you did that because you didn't want to use Megumi's body in the sex scenes with Nadja, but either way it was an excellent decision! Plus the scene of Sukuna eating his own mummified head while Nadja watches in terror is one of my favorites. And I hope I don't bother asking this but, could you tell us more about Thalassa and Helena please??? I want to hear all about your new OCs.

You're correct: I did have Sukuna shift earlier because I didn't want Megumi to be the one to have sex with Nadja. I write dark content but not quite that dark. It was enough that the implication of him being dimly aware at odd intervals was fucked up on Sukuna's part.

I love Sukugo and yeah, had he not already been locked in with Sundari, he 100% would have gone for Sukuna. He even thinks about how similar Sundari and Sukuna are sometimes and then is like NO THAT'S FUCKED UP DON'T DO THAT. But the possibility was there.

And I don't wanna spoil it too much but Thalassa is a sorcerer who has actually been vaguely referenced in my other JJK fics under a different name. I won't say which thoooo.

Helena is the primary antagonist of The Godslayer Project. She is a nasty piece of work. If capitalism at its most cold and ruthless had a face, it would be her. She is bad fucking news. That being said, I'm excited to reveal more about her. I had to put a pause on writing while dealing with IRL shit, but we about to be so back, I promise. ^_^

[on-wine-dark-seas]

The Godslayer Project

"War is the province of man; and survival the province of women."

🪧 Summary: A year after Sukuna's defeat, Sundari is adjusting to life as an instructor at Jujutsu Tech, as well as integrating into jujutsu society. However, not all are in favor of Sukuna's daughter being one of their own. When sorcerers begin to go missing, Sundari learns that not all of Kenjaku's secrets died with him. 💋 Pairing[s]: Satoru x Sundari [🧿👹] 🔞 Rating: Explicit ⚠️️ Warning[s]: Graphic depictions of canon typical violence; torture; explicit sexual situations; recreational substance use. ⚠️️ Be Advised: This is the direct sequel to Daughter of Disgrace, so it is advisable that you read that fic before you read this one.

⛩️ AO3 𑁍 Parallax OCs 𑁍 Sonder OCs ⛩️

⚛ I. Concordia Salus

CONCORDIA SALUS, “PROJECT EDEN” FACILITY

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

     The rain fell hard enough to sting, cold and biting, with no promises to relent as the convoy swayed and lumbered through the winding mountain road taking them deep into the fragrant heart of the conifer forest that blanketed the slopes almost near to the peak. Alexander had ceased to look out of his heavily tinted window hours ago, resigned that he would see nothing that would give him a clue as to where he was and where he was headed, and confident that even if he could see that he had no knowledge on how to designate his location from nature alone.

So, he’d been content to idly scroll his phone, chewing on a wad of gum that had long since lost its sweetness, and gritting his teeth in annoyance as his phone signal flickered out, leaving him to idly switch between applications, seeking something to keep his attention while his mind fair buzzed with possibilities. Around the same time, his battery flashed a warning. He’d need to charge it soon but with no service this high up in heavens-knew-where, he didn’t see the point and instead tried to find some other way to focus his unquiet mind.

     Six months ago, Alexander had been brewing his morning coffee in his cramped kitchen when he’d seen the sleek, black sedans pull up, windows tinted far beyond what he knew to be the legal limit, and sporting government plates. At first, he thought it was a hallucination; maybe they weren’t here for him, maybe the neighbors had done something. As if on cue, the doors opened and several individuals in bespoke suits were marching up the walkway to darken his front porch. Alexander had kept stirring his coffee while the doorbell wheezed, stuttering out its alert before fizzling to static. It was only when the knocking began that Alexander shuffled into motion, setting his coffee on the counter to answer the front door. He did his best to look calm but only slightly surprised and hoped his mouth could shape a friendly smile before these official-looking agents caught on and he was found guilty of whatever crime they no doubt suspected he committed.

     As it turned out, those bespoke-suited agents were just the vanguard for the real power behind the tinted window: Helena Grinspoon, the CEO of Concordia Salus, a research company that specialized in a wide array of studies—including a hefty hand in the pot of pharmaceuticals—and had built its empire on providing research technology of the bleeding edge variety. Alexander had been relieved that it had not been the FBI or Homeland Security on his doorstep, but no less flustered that he’d been scouted by such a powerful company.

     He hadn’t minded letting his coffee get cold over that encounter.

     Now, months later, he was finally to embark on the mysterious offer and contract with the company. The meeting with Helena had been done entirely via phone, while he sat in the back of a Phantom, enjoying chilled champagne and strawberries fresh on ice. She hadn’t given him any specific details, only that the discovery Concordia Salus made in their never-ending quest for knowledge was likely the most important in human history. Alexander had been polite enough not to scoff at such a claim and had instead let Helena explain what his role would be.

     Tonight, as the convoy rumbled to a stop before a high gate manned by armed guards sporting night vision goggles, Alexander would finally know what warranted a non-disclosure agreement. The financial incentive had been enough to make him choke on a chilled strawberry, forfeiting his advantage of looking only mildly interested. There had been enough zeroes to wipe out his student debt by a significant amount.

     One of the guards spoke to the driver in the car ahead of him, and with a single hand signal, the gate slid open. The convoy pushed ahead into the facility. Much like he had with much of the ride, Alexander did not bother trying to make out much of the campus and instead sighed with relief and anticipation that he would finally be able to see what had merited a meeting with Helena Grinspoon herself.

     The convoy parked in the hangar-sized loading area, and Alexander found himself suddenly assaulted by garish light as his door was opened and he stepped out. The air had the acrid scent of chemically treated wood and new concrete. It was as if the facility were some sanitized bubble nestled in the heart of the natural world. He couldn’t even smell the rain.

     “Dr. Rickman, I’m glad to finally see you here face to face,” a rich voice, enough to send a prickle along the nape of his neck. He turned to stare into the flinty blue eyes of the most unnerving looking woman he’d seen by far, her mouth quirked in a smile that was somehow hard and brittle, as if it were a foreign notion to her.

     “Come,” she said, “I’m sure you have questions, and there’s much to explain.”

     Alexander followed, kept at arm’s length behind her by the hard-looking bodyguards hovering on either side of her. He adjusted his bag, taking note of the fact that they were actually in a hangar bay, but he saw no vehicles that flew.

     “Concordia Salus has spent a lot of time and money investing in this facility,” Helena said as they entered an elevator, “but I believe you’ll find the reasons why make it all worthwhile.” She turned just so, glancing at him with idle curiosity. The smile was gone from her mouth, leaving only the steel of a powerful woman in its wake.

     “How much do you know about what we do, Doctor?”

     Alexander pushed forward, rushing to catch up with Helena’s brisk gait. Somehow, he felt he did not belong here, amidst armed guards and a sharply dressed businesswoman. He went over his list of qualities and skills, trying to understand what Concordia Salus—a company that specialized mostly in robotics—would need with a paleoanthropologist. He blinked, adjusting his glasses.

     “I know you’re foremost in robotics research; you took the danger out of exploring the ocean when yo—” Alexander realized that the place had gone eerily silent. Helena’s cold and pitiless gaze twinkled with what might have been amusement, but he felt more like he was being sized up by a praying mantis more than anything.

     “I’m aware of what our website says, Dr. Rickman,” she said with a raised brow, then turned on her heel to keep walking. She led him through a series of corridors, until he wasn’t sure just how deep into the facility they’d gone. The airy noise of the hangar wasn’t even a distant hum at this juncture. Helena came to another elevator, this one biometrically locked. He watched Helena stand in front of a clear panel, saw the flicker of blue lasers over her face before they flashed green, and the elevator doors opened. As they piled into the lift, the doors closed and suddenly Alexander was aware that the silence of before had been nothing compared to this.

     “A lot of security for a scientific research facility,” he said with a stuttering chuckle. No one else joined him. “Expecting your competitors to storm the gates to rob you of...whatever it is you’re researching?”

     “Yes.” Helena said, her voice like cool water, her expression neutral. “Not only do I expect my competitors to come for what I have, I expect them to do so with all the resources at their disposal. There is a reason our background check on you was so extensive, Dr. Rickman. Believe me, I’d never have brought you within 600 kilometers of this place if I suspected treachery.”

     Alexander smiled. Helena did not. Again, he found it difficult to hold her gaze in its unnerving intensity.

     “VOICE IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED FOR TRANSPORT.” A robotic voice chimed over the speakers. For a moment, Alexander thought that one of the guards had spoken, but he glanced around. The inside of the lift was pristine and stainless steel, and whatever sound system was being used, was as crisp and clear as if it were live.

     “War is the province of man,” Helena said in clear tones, and then turned her gaze to Alexander, smirking almost conspiratorially, “and survival the province of women.”

     “ACCESS GRANTED: WELCOME, HELENA GRINSPOON,” the AI responded politely, and Alexander felt a slight lurch as the elevator slid into motion. They were going down from the feel of it, and quickly. He hadn’t caught a glimpse of the facility from the outside, but he understood now that it had to be massive, carved deep into the heart of the mountain like some modern fortress. The lift coasted downward at an even glide for some time before slowing.

     “Most of our research is done in our urban headquarters around the world,” Helena explained, “pharmaceuticals, mostly, and some of our more paper-heavy genetic research. But we save the more exciting research for isolated sites like this one. Mostly due to safety, but always for security.” The doors slid open smoothly and Helena continued the tour down a bright and pristine hallway. Alexander swallowed.

     “So, I guess I can ask why you’d need someone in my field for your super isolated clandestine research,” he said wryly, “unless you need a dead language translated or a history of prehistoric man, then…”

     Helena gave one of her cold and amused smiles.

     “As it so happens, you are exactly who I am looking for,” she said and led him to what he hoped was the final door of the journey. “What you know of mankind before its recorded history is quite vital to the outcome of this project.” At that, Alexander began to feel he was either being set up or he had not read the terms and conditions of all his paperwork clearly. Helena seemed genuinely amused, the corner of her mouth lifting up in a smirk that could almost have been a sneer if her face didn’t look like it was meticulously sculpted to never wrinkle. Alexander got the feeling he was not as important as Helena said he was, and that any misstep would force her to prove that. So, he nodded.

     “I’m honored,” he said softly, “but Ms. Grinspoon, you’ve got to throw me a line here. What is this project you keep hinting at? Why the armed fortress?” He hadn’t meant to sound so frantic, like a confused child with no understanding of the how and why of things, only the demand to know. Helena’s expression never changed, and she seemed content to wait out his burgeoning apprehension before she inclined her head with a subtle tilt of her chin. Alexander sucked in a startled breath as her personal guards dismissed themselves. Behind the door, answers waited, but Alexander waited for Helena to react.

     “Are you familiar with the Genesis myth?” She asked. Alexander nodded wordlessly, restraining the urge to expound upon just how much of it he’d studied in relation to his own research over the years. Helena placed her hand on the door.

     “Behind this door, Dr. Rickman is proof that this myth is real.”

     That got Alexander’s interest, and he watched as Helena stood in front of the small screen, saw the flicker of a laser as she endured a brief retinal scan, and then there was a hiss, and the heavy armored doors began to part like a vault.

     And a vault it was, for what Alexander saw was etched forever in his memory after that day.

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