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[hookhausenschips]

Shadows Over Monaco

Prologue of The Game of Seduction

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Summary: In the glittering world of Monaco, Y/N targets the enigmatic Lando Norris, blending charm and strategy to navigate a high-stakes mission. But as the night unfolds, the line between player and played begins to blur, and Y/N realizes she may be in deeper than she anticipated.

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Violence, Crime, Manipulation, Dark Themes, Emotional Intensity, & Potential Power Imbalances

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• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

The blood-red sky over Monaco’s old city shimmered with fading light as the sun sank beneath the Mediterranean, casting long shadows over cobblestone streets. The dim glow of the setting sun seemed an apt metaphor for the fragile peace between the McLaren and Red Bull families—a peace that could shatter at the smallest provocation.

 

Inside the grand, fortified estate perched high above the city, Lando Norris, head of the McLaren mafia, leaned back in his leather chair. The room was dimly lit, the heavy velvet curtains blocking out the final rays of sunlight. A glass of Scotch sat untouched on the mahogany desk in front of him, its amber hues reflecting in the gleam of his sharp, calculating eyes.

 

Lando was young for his role—too young, some said. But those who underestimated him never made the mistake twice. His rise had been swift, his enemies ruthless, but none as ruthless as Lando when provoked. His dark brown hair, tousled in a way that seemed effortless, framed a face that could deceive with boyish charm or command with a cold, steely gaze.

 

“Any news?” Lando’s voice was smooth but carried an undercurrent of authority that left no room for dissent.

 

Oscar Piastri, Lando’s most trusted lieutenant, stood near the window, his sharp suit immaculate despite the late hour. “The Red Bull family has been quiet since the Marseille shipment,” Oscar said, his Australian accent clipped. “Too quiet, if you ask me.”

 

Lando’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Christian Horner doesn’t do quiet. He does calculated. If he’s not making noise, it’s because he’s planning something.”

 

Christian Horner, patriarch of the Red Bull mafia, was known for his cunning strategies and his unrelenting ambition. The rivalry between their families was one written in blood, stretching back decades, and the uneasy truce brokered between them was nothing more than a temporary ceasefire.

 

Lando reached for the glass of Scotch, swirling the liquid absently. “What about Verstappen?”

 

Oscar stiffened at the mention of Max Verstappen, Christian’s right-hand man and enforcer. “Rumors say he’s consolidating their holdings in Vienna. But there’s talk of a new operation, something under the radar. We don’t have details yet.”

 

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken tension. Lando’s jaw tightened. “We need eyes inside their operation. Someone who can feed us the details before it’s too late.”

 

Oscar hesitated. “Christian’s not careless. He’ll protect his inner circle.”

 

Lando’s gaze turned ice-cold. “Everyone has a weakness. Even Horner.”

 

Across the city, in the heart of the Red Bull family’s luxurious estate, Christian Horner stood in his grand office, the room dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city lights.

 

He was flanked by Max Verstappen, his ever-loyal enforcer, and Y/N, a new face in the Red Bull inner circle. Y/N stood tall, her sharp eyes locked on Christian as he outlined his latest plan.

 

“This is no ordinary mission,” Christian said, his voice smooth but commanding. He paced the room, the sharp click of his polished shoes echoing. “We need someone who can get close to Norris. Someone who can gain his trust, extract his secrets, and leave him vulnerable.”

 

Y/N tilted her head, her confidence unshaken by the intensity of Christian’s gaze. “You want me to seduce him.”

 

Christian smirked. “You’re quick. That’s why I chose you. Lando is dangerous, yes, but he’s also a man. And men have their weaknesses.”

 

Y/N folded her arms, her dark eyes flashing. “If I do this, I want assurances. When I succeed, I want out of this life.”

 

Max snorted from his place by the window, his posture relaxed but his tone laced with skepticism. “You think it’s that easy? You think you can just walk away from this world?”

 

Y/N’s gaze didn’t waver. “I think if I’m going to risk my life, I get to decide what happens when it’s over.”

 

Christian studied her for a long moment before nodding. “Fair enough. But don’t underestimate Norris. He’s more than he appears.”

 

Y/N’s lips curled into a confident smirk. “So am I.”

 

The plan was set. Y/N would infiltrate Lando’s world, using her charm and intelligence to break through his defenses. But as she left the Red Bull estate that night, her mind churned with doubts.

 

She had trained for years in manipulation, espionage, and combat, but Lando Norris was an enigma. He was known for his charm and charisma, but beneath that lay a man who had outmaneuvered some of the most dangerous players in the game.

 

Y/N glanced down at the dossier Christian had handed her, her fingers brushing over the photo of Lando clipped to the top corner. His piercing gaze seemed to follow her, a silent reminder of the challenge ahead.

 

“Game on,” she murmured to herself, steeling her resolve.

 

What she didn’t know was that this game of seduction and deceit would soon spiral into something far more dangerous than she had ever anticipated.

 

The stage was set. The players were in place. And the seduction game was about to begin.

The Red Bull estate was a world of opulence layered over menace. Its sprawling marble halls gleamed under crystal chandeliers, a façade of elegance that belied the ruthless decisions made within. Y/N strode through one of its gilded corridors, heels clicking softly on the polished floor, the dossier on Lando Norris clutched tightly in her hand.

 

Her tailored black blazer fit snugly across her shoulders, paired with cigarette trousers and a crisp white blouse—professional, commanding, but with just enough edge to hint at the fire beneath. Her dark hair was swept into a sleek bun, revealing sharp cheekbones and eyes that seemed to see everything.

 

She entered the training room, a stark contrast to the rest of the estate. This space was raw and industrial, the scent of sweat and metal lingering in the air. Christian Horner stood in the corner, leaning casually against a table covered in weapons, tech gadgets, and surveillance photos.

 

“You’re late,” he said without looking up, flipping through a set of blueprints.

 

“I had to pack for Monaco,” Y/N replied coolly, setting the dossier down on the table. “What’s the plan?”

 

Christian gestured to a nearby chair. “Sit. We’ve got a lot to cover.”

 

Y/N slid into the chair, crossing her legs as Christian began to speak. His tone was sharp, precise, every word carrying the weight of their precarious mission.

 

“Lando Norris isn’t like the others you’ve dealt with,” he began, spreading out the documents in front of her. “He’s smart, unpredictable. He grew up in this life—he didn’t inherit power, he took it. And that makes him dangerous.”

 

Y/N studied the photos spread across the table: Lando at various events, flanked by his lieutenants; Lando at the wheel of a sleek black sports car; Lando seated in a darkened club, his face half-shadowed, a predatory smirk playing on his lips.

 

“What’s his weakness?” she asked, her voice steady.

 

Christian paused, leaning back in his chair. “If he has one, it’s his ego. He doesn’t trust easily, but he loves a challenge. If you can present yourself as someone intriguing, someone who isn’t intimidated by him, you might get close enough to earn his trust.”

 

Y/N leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “And then?”

 

“Then you’ll extract everything you can,” Christian said, his tone cold. “Names, locations, operations. Once we have what we need, we’ll move in to dismantle his empire.”

 

Y/N nodded, though a flicker of doubt passed through her. “And if I fail?”

 

Christian’s expression darkened. “Then don’t fail.”

 

•Later That Day•

 

The sparring ring in the estate’s gymnasium was dimly lit, the only sound the rhythmic thud of Y/N’s fists against the heavy bag. Her movements were precise, her muscles coiled and ready, each punch carrying the force of her determination.

 

But beneath her focus, her thoughts churned.

 

She’d spent years working for the Red Bull family, earning a reputation as one of their most capable operatives. She’d taken on dangerous assignments, infiltrated rival groups, and emerged unscathed. But this mission felt different.

 

It wasn’t just the danger—though Lando Norris was undoubtedly dangerous. It was the intimacy of the task, the requirement to weave herself into his life, his trust. Seduction wasn’t just about appearances; it was about vulnerability, about revealing just enough of herself to make him believe the lies.

 

And Y/N hated vulnerability.

 

“Your form’s sloppy,” a voice interrupted her thoughts.

 

Y/N turned to see Max Verstappen leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes scrutinizing her every move.

 

“Care to step in and demonstrate, Max?” she shot back, smirking.

 

Max grinned, pushing off the wall and stepping into the ring. “I don’t need to. You’ve got this, don’t you?”

 

Their sparring was quick and brutal, each movement a test of skill and control. Max was relentless, but Y/N matched him blow for blow, her determination shining through.

 

As the session ended, Y/N wiped the sweat from her brow, breathing heavily.

 

“Do you really think this is going to work?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

 

Max shrugged, his expression unreadable. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what Christian thinks. And you’re the best shot we’ve got.”

 

Y/N nodded, though her doubts remained.

 

•Nightfall•

 

In her room, Y/N sat at her desk, the dossier on Lando spread out before her. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across her features as she read through the pages, absorbing every detail of his life.

 

His rise to power was brutal: the calculated takedowns of rivals, the strategic alliances, the moments of ruthless efficiency that had cemented his place at the top. But there were hints of something deeper—a man who had suffered loss, who had built walls around himself to survive.

 

She stared at his photo, her finger tracing the sharp line of his jaw.

 

“What happened to you, Lando Norris?” she whispered to herself.

 

Her fingers brushed against the delicate chain of a necklace around her neck, a small, hidden reminder of why she’d agreed to this mission in the first place. Beneath her confident exterior, there was a vulnerability she rarely let anyone see—a past that still haunted her, a future she was desperate to claim.

 

For Y/N, this mission wasn’t just about loyalty to the Red Bull family. It was about survival, about finding a way out of the darkness that had consumed her life.

 

And if Lando Norris was the key to that escape, then so be it.

 

•The Final Briefing•

 

The next morning, Y/N stood in Christian’s office, her outfit immaculate: a sleek black dress that hugged her figure, paired with a pair of red-soled stilettos. She exuded confidence, every detail calculated to perfection.

 

Christian handed her a small earpiece, his expression stern. “This will keep you connected to us. Use it sparingly—Lando isn’t stupid. He’ll notice if you’re distracted.”

 

Y/N nodded, slipping the earpiece into her pocket.

 

“And remember,” Christian added, his tone sharp. “This isn’t just about seduction. It’s about control. Don’t let him turn the tables on you.”

 

Y/N smirked, her confidence returning. “Don’t worry, Christian. I’ve got this.”

 

But as she left the estate and stepped into the waiting car, her mind was a storm of emotions. The game was about to begin, and she knew the stakes couldn’t be higher.

 

Her mission was clear. But as the city lights blurred past her window, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this game would test her in ways she wasn’t prepared for.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @cheyennep3107, @d3kstar

[livvyofthelake]

i don’t mean this to sound homophobic or whatever but some queer people literally cannot conceptualize that they actively look down on things they consider “basic” or “straight” with an insane level of contempt no matter how much they say they support everyone and everything. like. if i tell you i love riverdale because it’s campy and fun and you give me that look of disgust because you perceive riverdale as some basic lame straight people show. that’s not very like. nice. and then you refuse to hear me out in my show’s defense… and you just wave me off with a “whatever like whatever you like” but you’re still looking at me like i’ve just ordered a pumpkin spice latte while wearing ugg boots and listening to taylor swift. like at a certain point when will you admit you’re not actually very nice about people’s interests that don’t align with yours.

[banditblvd]

notebookcast.com was an experience and a half

[mildmayfoxe]

just got an email that apple is forcing patreon to make everyone switch to a subscription model instead of first of the month payment or else they can’t keep the patreon app in the app store which is sooooo fucked. so of course everyone is being forced onto the subscription model. i kept turning it down because its shit for people who mail things and don’t want to keep track of a million sign up dates but i guess i don’t have a choice!!!!!!

[carrotpiss]

Hmm

[sharkneto]

oof yeah this update is Not Good. i miss seeing all y'all faces

[cowardstiel]

i think it should be mandatory that everyone watch The Social Dilemma at least once every six months

[kuromi-hoemie]

me: weird, I’m not able to reblog anymore? If I click reblog nothing pops up. I notice ublock origin’s counter keeps going up, what gives?

tumblr:

why the fuck is a wordpress pixel preventing me from reblogging you loser ass website. I’m not on wordpress, this breakage shouldn’t be happening.

Tbf, if I open a new tab or refresh the page I’m able to reblog again - but if I’m deep in the dash that’s obviously not the ideal move to make. I’m assuming this has something to do with the new UI Tumblr’s using because this hasn’t happened before.

Also, having refreshed the page and basically JUST making this post - can you fucking not??

Maybe it’s because I have the logger open so it’s not refreshing things but uhhh yeah this is dumb, whatever’s happening here.

On top of my heart kinda racing (bad) by just using the new UI because it feels like I’m on twitter again I’m just so annoyed with everything @staff​ is doing >.> STOP IT god dammit

[briarrolfe]

Okay not to be an old man about it but do people not tag their art reblogs anymore?? That used to be the BIG PERK of being an artist on Tumblr. Even if it wasn’t people going apeshit in the tags maybe you’d at least get somebody going like “hey nice.” There was an Xkit extension built just so you could see all the tags in your reblogs!! But now when my work gets reblogged it’s crickets in there… not even categorisation tags like #art or #illustration, or the coldest of tags: #not my art, #queue, #not fanart.

It would be okay if you got some kind of comments in the place of tags but people also do not comment on work here like they do on Twitter or Instagram? Truly… how is any artist meant to know what people liked about something 🥲

[bat-the-misfit]

oh no

[mars-ipan]

honestly i don’t really think any mental illnesses have been like “destigmatized”- not fully at least. i think the stigma has just changed from demonization to “that’s not a real problem get over it god”

[neverendingford]

.

[niallandtommo]

.

[hua-fei-hua]

through a series of Wacky Hijinks(tm), i ended up on a livejournal post where someone basically details LiveJournal Social Etiquette (holy grail. to me), and it's actually really interesting to see just how much the concept of tumblr as like, a communal social space, and our modern ideas of "mutual"-hood, and just like, the deeply community-oriented netview (worldview but regarding the internet) of this website seems to echo the environment of lj in its heyday.

like, i've been doing research abt lj out of personal curiosity for quite a while now (if any of you were there, gandalf, pls tell me abt it), and at first it just seemed like such a foreign concept to me. what were the social rules? how did people congregate? how did they form, like, their webs?

but the more i uncover via (not-asking-people-directly-because-if-i-initiate-social-interaction-i-will-wither-into-a-prune) general internet spelunking, the more i've come to realize that like many aspects of humanity, the more things change, the more they will also remain the same. and i just think that's so terribly endearing

[caskunart]

The images are (by row, top to bottom, left to right): Chance+Sham, Chance+Sham, Capricia+Gwain+Andromache+Tzu kinda, Thessalyn, Chance+Sham (2015-2021 art improvement meme), Fenrah, my tortle from DnD, Basil, and finally Chance (again). All images are cropped; full versions on my website, which is linked at the bottom of this post if you want to skip to that!

So, hi there! I used to post a bunch of art related to Abigail Hilton’s novels here, primarily those set in the world of Panamindorah; the Pirates of Wefrivain series, and the Prophet of Panamindorah and associated short stories. You can scroll back if you want to see that, but it’s all quite old and not very good. Still, I have unpassword-protected this blog, so you may view it if you so wish.

I no longer post on Tumblr, but I thought I’d let any interested fans (of Abbie, not me) know that I have a website I update occasionally where I share fanart of her works (alongside DnD art, original art, and works for other assorted fandoms — it’s primarily Panamindorah/Abbie art, though). The above artworks are (cropped) examples of what’s on the site. Each image comes with an associated mini-ramble (much shorter than a real ramble).

Please note that Neocities free accounts have some bandwidth issues; the introduction on my art page explains a little more of what to expect from a site like this (in general, this is very much ‘amateur, free, static’ web design, as opposed to something professional. tl;dr: it loads like shit. You may find that charming, you may not).

I also have a Dreamwidth, where one can leave anonymous (or logged-in) comments regarding my art, or start a conversation (you don’t have to care about my art to talk to me), and where I plan to post rambles (many of which will be related to Abbie’s works...again, primarily those set in Panamindorah, and to be quite honest, mostly Prophet of Panamindorah...I’m a Chance Windar man, myself). I’m not a prolific poster, so if this sounds interesting, but the idea of being flooded with art and rambles doesn’t, fear not. Although, if you like people who make things with great speed, uhhhh... (creeps back into boggy, slow-paced swampland). Can’t provide, don’t plan to.

Please note that this is not a portfolio-style website. WIPs, unfinished works, scribbles, doodles, and other scraps find their way onto my website, alongside more polished/complete/almost-complete works. I like that sort of thing, but you might not. There is also an on-site blog, although it’s mostly for ‘assorted nothings’. Lengthy entries will probably end up on Dreamwidth.

My second note is that there are (or will be) three art pages; the first is mostly SFW, although there is mild shelt (or other ‘fantastical people with no obvious genitalia’) nudity, kissing, and cuddling. The second page has more sensual or explicit works. The third page will be for (if I find the courage) more kinky, dark, or violent works. The whole site is technically Chose Not To Warn, but most adults should not have too much trouble browsing the main art page (and probably the first of the explicit pages). My website is intended primarily for adults. Links to the more explicit pages are marked as such, so those who aren’t interested should be able to avoid them easily (the third page doesn’t even exist yet).

Both my website and my Dreamwidth have RSS feeds. The blog on Abbie’s website also has an RSS feed, which can be useful if, like me, newsletters and your email go together about as well as oil and water.

Anyhow, links!

My Website (links directly to the main art page)

My Dreamwidth (this links directly to the journal entry for commenting)

About RSS feeds

More about RSS feeds

My Android RSS feeder (you do not need to use this, it’s just an example)

My Website’s RSS feed (you copy and paste these urls into your RSS feeder)

My Dreamwidth’s RSS feed (ditto above)

Abbie’s blog’s RSS feed; her newsletter is mirrored here for those who have trouble with email newsletters. (ditto above)

That’s all. As said, I don’t intend to return to Tumblr. I just wanted folks to know that other Abigail Hilton/Panamindorah fans exist out there. I know this website is very into Hunters Unlucky (sorry, I’m very bad at drawing animals; I do enjoy the books) so I should warn all you lovely folks that I don’t make much on that front. Maybe one day, though? I should be drawing more than Chance Windar and Sham Ausla (but Chance Windar and Sham Ausla have my heart). I suppose characters who aren’t animals (shelts are fine) are far more likely to show up, in the end.

May you all be happy and well!

[snekdood]

I've never really actually cared about smearing my ex. I only ever wanted to clear my name and draw vent art to an audience i *thought* was removed from them. I didn't think anyone they knew or knee them were still watching me online so i felt like it was okay to finally draw vent art. Art that would only emotionally move them to actually give af about what they did but i felt was vague enough that people wouldnt trace it back to them. And then someone did, and then they wrote a whole callout post about me, which i was anticipating for years, but before that, theyve been for years building this image of me, where they know their audience knows theyre talking about me, theyve been trying to paint me as the abuser for years so that when they did call me out, people could refer to their comic and see "evidence" im bad because i guess thats evidence somehow??? Whatever the case. I feel like ive only been trying to clear my name since they started this. I never wanted it to devolve into this me vs them thing but they seemed to start off that way by default with me. I felt like i had to lay out everything they did to defend my point that i know what im talking about, im not crazy, and maybe listen to me because i might be right when i talk about myself specifically. The fact its gotten to this point is so stupid to me. It would have been so much easier for them to just drop the narrative of painting me as this horrible shitty person but no apparently we had to drag it all the way out to this point. I hate feeling like i have to constantly defend myself because theres a whole narrative about me thats entirely different from who I am. I hate that i felt like i needed to compile all this evidence that im innocent especially since even if i had direct evidence of their abuse people would still somehow find a way to dismiss it. All of this has been a waste of time but i guess so long as they get to throw my name in the trash and shit on it nothing else matters.