Disclaimer: I do not own Star Vs The Forces of Evil. It's a pretty good enough show as is, and it doesn't need a fanfic author telling it what to do. ...oh, I made myself sad...

Of Magical Wands and Safety Helmets

When Star first heard of the concept of 'pillow fighting,' she was instantly enamored with it. All the fun of mortal combat – the thrill of the hunt, the forced recognition of your own mortality, the revelry of grinding your foe beneath your size six steel combat boot – without the need to clean up the bloody, squishy aftermath? (Blood and ichor was so hard to properly clean out of linen.) It was the best of both worlds!

Plus, beating the stuffing out of someone with more stuffing just tickled her funny bone. It most likely had to do with how her royal babysitters taught her the ninety-nine ways (the hundredth was too terrible for anyone one person to know, so they'd teach her that when she'd come of age and fully inherit the throne) to kill a person with her bare hands using her stuffed animals as the unfortunate victim. (She didn't recall a single stuffed bear lasting with all of its limbs intact for more than a week during her early childhood.)

When Marco had first explained how pillow fights worked, he found the sparkly look of glee in her eyes cute instead of the appropriate balance of pants-wetting terror and existential dread. After all, as blood-thirsty as the trans-dimensional princess could be, it wasn't like even she could take something as innocuous as a pillow and turn it into a weapon of mass destruction. So when Star asked him to face off against her in fluffy combat, he agreed with little apprehension.

It should be noted that by this point, Star had not even lived with his family for a month, so this lack of basic survival instinct should not be counted against him (though he should still be called naïve on general principle).

When Star greeted Marco at the door to her room in the pajama-version of full-combat regalia and armor, he brushed it off as one of her many, many quirks.

When she showed that she had transformed her luxurious four-poster bed into a pillow fort with full-out buttresses, towers, portcullis, and a moat replete with miniature stuffed alligators, he started to wonder if she was taking the whole thing a wee bit too far.

When she animated all of her stuffed toys to act as her army (arming them with pillowy swords, axes, and maces), he started to grow slightly worried as a tingling feeling like fresh ice traveled down his spine.

When she made it a few words into her rousing speech about running down her foes in glorious combat (in rather visceral detail), his composure finally broke, and he bolted for the window (obviously the nearby door was a trap) and potential freedom.

Alas, for as ditzy and downright oblivious the blonde could be at times, this was the climate that she was bred, trained, and lived for.

The window was nailed shut and filled with enough protective magic to stop a rampaging dragon.

She knew; she tested it out earlier that day.

What followed, as the young boy was dazed from diving headfirst into magically reinforced glass and mortar and immediately beset by a veritable wave of aggressive cotton, was chronicled as the most adorable and soft-handed rout ever achieved in both Earth's and Mewni's history books.

At the very least, Star's terms for surrender were a kind and generous deal… right up until Marco smacked her in the face with a moat gator.

That's when things got fun.

A/N: A stupid drabble, hopefully the first of... some, to get my juices flowing so I'll actually get back to my more major story. I really enjoyed SVTFOE; I found it to be a cute show with colorful characters that was pretty solid in a lot of ways, even if it had a few weak points. Still, I'm looking forward to the new season next year, so perhaps this may tide me over. Also, enjoy it. It's pointless, simple fun.