#queuella de vil

errrrrrrm

1. laughing with people i love 2. spontaneous trips3. cuddling with my cat4. music that you just feel in your soul 5. discovering new people/places/things

Chapter Three: Fashion School and the Claiming of House of De Vil

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcohol/Drugs and references Panic Attack Death (very brief mention)

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Fashion school was at the time, the best part of Cruella’s life.

She lived on campus and had made respectable acquaintances with her roommate. She excelled in all her classes. And she’d already had her signature: fur. Every single thing she drew had fur accenting it somehow. It was gorgeous, eye catching, show stopping and VERY controversial.

And of course being of the de Vil legacy, she was immensely popular among peers, but also immensely pressured to live up to the name. She of course, did…. but not before she having prove herself day after day.

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Three knocks came on Cruella’s door. She was laying on her stomach, hovering over her book when she heard it. She figured it was just her roommate since the door was locked or maybe one of the boys that was always chasing her roommate’s skirt. Whoever they were, if they weren’t the roommate, they’d have to go. She fixed up her appearance quickly out of habit and opened the door. Instead there HE was. 

"Malvolo?"

“Caaaaaahhhi cuhhhin? ‘Surgent.” He slurred. 

She rolled her eyes. “No. What do you want? I have no money.”  She lied.

Once Malevola found out where she was going to school, she’d kept filling her account. Except for the past two months. But who cared? Cruella had a job on campus.

“Issnot money…. iss mummy." He laughed at that because ‘it rhymed’.

"What does SHE want?" Cruella asked, now even more irritated. "I’m NOT modelling again. And I have no reason to-"

“Nawthat either…. sheezick, Cru. Annotgeddinbedder." 

Cruella’s brows softened and raised.

“Liver damj ferm toomushrinking. I’sonna try donating budday say mine’soo damjd too.” He laughed high pitched and loudly at that. “Limumther lizzun, right?”

Cruella knew where this was going. Alcoholics weren’t allowed on the donor list. And Cruella would have to see if she herself was a match. Great. Greeeeaaaat. Malvolo prepared to speak again but his stomach made a weird noise. It traveled up until it came out in some weird burp thing. Cruella could smell the cocktail that was his stomach. GOD! Then he did that drunken jazz square movement the drinkers do.

“Ieeeeeeelyeeedacuh-”

Cruella took his wrist and clamped his hand over his mouth and led him to the bathroom by his other. She threw him in and closed the door behind him. She leaned against it and found herself hyperventilating. Mum. Dying? What would this mean for her? What would this mean for the company? What would this mean for Malvolo? Why did it have to come down to HER? 

Dropping out of school. Funeral arrangements. Will battles. Bankruptcy. In debt to the school. Debtor’s jail. Malvolo being next to die if he didn’t clean up.

Cruella didn’t even realize when she was on all fours trying to control her breathing and the drops of water on her hand being from her own eyes.

The sound of the toilet flushing snapped her out of it. She had to be strong for him. As much as she didn’t like him sometimes, he was scared and he needed her. She opened the door. He was groaning, holding onto the toilet and his eyes heavily lidded.

She grabbed his wrists and picked him up and led him to her bed. She had a pair of men’s silk pajamas in her bottom drawer, she anticipated him ending up at her dorm drunk or cracked out one night. She layed him down and changed him into the more comfortable clothes, through her drying tears. It seemed to calm her down a little. It brought her a little peace and wore her out enough that she was soon able to get comfortable herself.

Her roommate came back later and Cruella just told her her brother was drunk and nervous about their sick mom. She nodded and went to sleep and was gone earlier than normal the next morning. 

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Cruella woke up long before Malvolo that morning. When he did wake up she was sitting before him with a horrid looking drink in her hand. Malevola’s hangover remedy. Bollocks. He downed as much of it as he could stomach. And soon the world was more bearable. He put on some sunglasses anyway.

"We have to go in, don’t we?" He asked.

Cruella nodded.

…………………………………………………..

It turned out Cruella wasn’t a match after all. And that sealed that. She was indeed Malevola’s last living blood relative. There was nothing left to do except make her comfortable. And dear god, was THAT a joke. Malevola de Vil was a bitch all her life and she would be a bitch to her last breath. Nothing ever was good enough. And even though lung troubles were also on top of the things wrong with her, guess who couldn’t spend her last few months nicotine-free.

But that didn’t make her death any less saddening. Malvolo couldn’t even bear to watch. But Cruella was the hand she clutched to with her last breath. 

…………………………………………………………….

Her fears didn’t come true...... WORSE fears came into play.

Geraud walked in.

"Oh, God. Cru. Is it true? Is she-"

Cruella rolled her eyes. Why the sudden concern? Why so MUCH of it? It sounded SO fake.

"Yes, Geraud." She said.

He looked at her, raising a brow. “Is THAT what you call me now? Your beloved da-“

"Don’t you dare say it..... Drop the act, Geraud. What do you want?" She asked.

"My ex-wife just died."

"GodDAMMIT, Geraud. At least Malvolo’s up front when he wants something! What is it?"

He chuckled, licking his lip from the inside.

"House of de Vil. She’s dead, it needs to be run and it’s MY name."

Cruella looked at him incredulously.

"Are. You. SERIOUS?…. She’s been preparing me for this all my life. House of de Vil is MINE."

"Oh, how cute. The pup wants to follow in the bitch’s footsteps." He laughed. "Do you have it in writing?"

Cruella snatched the will she’d been given out of her back pocket and slapped it onto his chest. He smirked, chuckled and read it.

"Well. That’s very cute. But let’s see if a judge sides with some little fashion school ex-model princess or a man who knows how to run a business and hire people who can keep it going."

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It was a long, hard and bitter battle. Eventually the fact that besides the name, Geraud had NO claim to it won out. It was rightfully Cruella’s. She smirked victoriously and stalked out of the courthouse. Her father, though disappointed at his loss, had to admit to himself he was proud that the daughter that was so walked on all her life finally stood her ground. 

…………………..

Cruella learned from high school that trying to balance career and school didn’t work too well. She left Malvolo in charge of House of de Vil. She knew that many, even Malvolo himself had been iffy about the choice. But he’d done SO well since Malevola’s passing and surprisingly had a knack for fashion that nobody knew about. Without her negativity in his life, he’d been able to just quit all his vices cold turkey.

Still, he was nervous. And in his nervousness he elected Geraud to be his consultant. Geraud of course,a greed with this decision. He'd be the power behind the throne but ONLY when asked. But for Geraud, it was better than not at all. Cruella agreed to it for the sake fo the company and for the sake of Malvolo. She still didn't like or trust that man.

Everything was running smoothly so far and thatt brough Cruella some peace.

………………………………………..

A call came to Cruella just before her graduation.

"I did a bad thing, Cru."

It was Malvolo.

No. No no no. GOD, no. He’d relapsed?

It was worse than that. He’d been fighting Malevola’s voice in his head since he’d been given the company. His nerves, her voice and then…. Geraud’s words. He’d done a bad thing.

The worst thing.

He’d STOLEN money from the company. Drank so much. TOO much. And nearly overdosed.

Cruella dropped the phone. When she picked it up again, she could hear his retching. 

Damn that Geraud. He couldn't find it in himself to NOT ruin a good thing could he? And in Geraud's head, this was Malvolo's resignation. House of De Vil was his now.

Wrong. All he'd done now was ruin his son's sobriety and start a court case again. And again, Cruella had to fight back the companyand now for her brother.

…………………………..

Geraud soon had Malvolo checked into rehab. It was either that or prison for what he’d done so his checking in was only semi-voluntary. And that was Geraud’s last straw. He knew Cruella hated him and Malvolo did too. He was 'childless' and 'empireless' and he just couldn’t handle such a broken home. Of course, ignoring the fact that HE broke it.

So there Cruella was. Fresh out of fashion design school, degree new in her hands, just getting over her mother’s death and the stress of the brother she couldn’t help but love and pity. And now she had the pressure of trying to save the company she’d newly inherited… well… RE-inherited…. from bankruptcy and irrelevance.

She had two choices: Crack under the pressure, and spiral just as far down as Malvolo had and end up broke… or rise. Command. Lead.

She of course chose the second.

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