There was little that ground Robbie's gears more than bullies. Having grown up in the slums with a vulnerable younger brother and no parents, he'd dealt with his share of them. Usually, "dealing" with them entailed using his fists, taking a few hits, and breaking a few noses.

Even the prestigious Royal Academy of Magicks had its set of jerks, though he couldn't exactly break anyone's bones here. Still, being possessed by a flaming, skeletal demon had its perks. All he'd needed to do was shift into his demonic form, and the would-be tough guys had run away screaming and p*ssing their pants.

Maybe he'd get detention and put his scholarship in jeopardy for scaring a bunch of rich b*stards, but he didn't care. He knew he should—scholarships were rare and he'd been exceedingly lucky to get one, which had happened in part due to his unusual case of demonic possession—but all that mattered to him was that the bullies' victim was safe.

He shifted back to his human form, the faint smell of sulfur lingering in the air as he held out a sooty hand to the student he'd just saved, hoping he hadn't scared the victim half to death too.

"Hey," he said gently, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. Robbie had led a rough life, and he'd had to present himself as a threatening young man to get by in the streets, but underneath all that, he still had a gentle soul. "It's okay. You're safe now. Those jerks won't bother you anymore. Did they hurt you? Do you need to go to the infirmary?"