FSE

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She wasn't sure what a fashion designer needed with matches. It didn't make sense especially with so much flammable fabrics and textiles around so she was probably doing her sister a favour. No, she definitely was doing Rarity a favour.

With that being said, what would she do with the box of confiscated matches?

Sweetie Belle observed the hovering box with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. The bright moon above easily outshone the magical glow that surrounded the matches. She gave it a quick poke with her hoof and then sat back down on the tall grass.

The young filly had always been taught to be careful around open flames such as stovetops and campfires but matches, well, matches were a more controlled fire right? Still, fire was fire and yet here she was in control.

"Extra strength... Hmm..." She flipped the box around and read the text along the side. What was so "extra" about these matches? It was literally a stick with a bit of goop on the end, how much "strength" could it have?

Time to test them out.

The box opened easily and with her horn Sweetie Belle plucked a matchstick out and brought it closer to her face for examination. Yep. Just a stick with dried gloop, nothing special at all. With a flick she struck the match along the side of the box and it burst into a fierce yellow flame.

Ok, nothing special. Sure it was a bit brighter than a regular match but nothing special. Using her magic she shook the flame out and tossed it behind her. The box was opened again, matches rustling as another was retrieved and lit.

And another simple flame. Bright, but wholly unextraordinary.

"Maybe it's more special if there's more than one..." Carefully juggling everything in the air Sweetie Belle extracted a few more matchsticks and lit them simultaneously. Their combined glow was probably as strong as a mediocre lightbulb.

She stared as the fire worked its way down the thin sliver of wood and before extinguishing into a tendrils of smoke. These weren't so dangerous after all, so why not again? And again she did, another hoofful of matches were ignited and she watched as they burnt down to tiny embers.

Satisfied Sweetie Belle decided to light one final match to carry back home when she smelled smoke.

Turning around she looked with horror as a small fire had eaten a cluster of dried grass behind her. The initial matchstick must not have been completely extinguished and now flames were greedily lapping away at everything within reach.

"Oh no. Ohnononono....!" Dropping everything she darted over to the developing flame and gave it a cursory stomp with her hooves only to flinch from the heat. It didn't have much of an effect and she only had a singed hoof for her efforts. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for something, anything to help.

Acting quickly, she magically ripped away the surrounding foliage while digging a crude circle into the dirt around the blaze. The fire was still small and using the torn brush she beat at the flames, trying to suffocate them.

Unfortunately the dried grass ended up acting as tinder and the blaze crackled to life. Yelping she dropped everything in panic before realizing her mistake. She haphazardly shoved as much as she could into the center of the dirt circle while wincing as she stomped out the rest.

There, now the fire could burn out naturally without spreading any further. Satisfied, the filly turned around to gather her things.

Only to realize that a much bigger problem was now in her hooves.

She stood there, mouth agape at the tiny inferno that have enveloped the matchbox. Of course this had happened, she literally dropped a lit matchstick onto the box when she scrambled to deal with the first fire. What did she expect would happen?

Every moment she spent staring at the fire was another second it had to feed and grow. She had to act quickly.

Sweetie Belle began replicating her previous firefighting attempt. Using her hooves, mouth, and magic she desperately cleared the nearby grass while simultaneously digging a shallow trench. But she barely got halfway around before realizing her efforts were in vain. The flames were growing faster than she could remove shrubbage or plow through the earth.

If this became a firestorm what would her friends say? What would Mom and Dad do? How would Rarity react? This was all her fault, all because she was a bit curious and careless. Tears welled in her eyes as she kicked another plume of dirt into the swirling heat.

Was there water anywhere close? A quick trot around revealed a shallow pond. Perfect. Less perfect however were her magical capabilities. Try as she might it wasn't possible for her to lift that much water that far to douse the flames. And there was no way she could weave a suitable container to carry it over.

Sweetie Belle's options were dwindling and her problem growing. What else could she do, there had to be something she could do. Wait, what if, what if...?

She stared at her hooves. Yes it hurt when she stomped on the flames but she couldn't deny how effective they were. But the fire was too big now, even if she used all four of her hooves she probably couldn't cover enough area to completely smother it. The filly needed something bigger.

But what?

She trotted in a tight anxious spiral and then it hit her. What if, what if she used the rest of her body and just rolled around? Stop, drop, and roll is supposed to work if you catch on fire, but what if you used it on an actual fire?

No no no, that was crazy. If she burned the bottom of her hooves fine, no one could see that and she could cover it up but her entire body? She didn't want to announce to the world how she messed up so badly. No, there had to be some happy medium.

What about her rump?

She stared at her backside and it involuntarily wiggled. Ok, if she was going to use her butt, she would need to get her tail out of the way. And hopefully if there were any scars, her future cutie mark would just cover it up, or fix it, or something.

Enough talk, so much time had been wasted as it is. Sweetie Belle closed her eyes, grit her teeth and dove in.

For the first second she didn't feel the fire, she didn't feel much of anything. Perhaps it was her body's way of trying to protect her or dull her senses for what was to come.

It didn't last very long.

Suddenly it was like she could feel every ember, every tongue of flame, and she screamed before quickly covering her mouth.

Biting down on her lip she dragged her butt over the scorched earth in wide arcs trying to cover as much ground as possible. Her hind hooves stamped down as well though whether it was to help smother the flames or a reflex of the pain was hard to say.

It was likely only a minute, maybe two but it felt like hours. Her lip was bleeding from biting down so hard and multiple streams of tears were running down her face when finally there was only the sound of the wind and her whimpered cries.

The filly lifted herself off the smoldering grass, trembling the entire way. She had succeeded, that much was certain, and hopefully the damage wasn't too great.

It was only then she realized that her tail was still on fire.

Slamming her hooves into her mouth she stifled a screech as the fire flickered as bright as any of the night stars. Reflexively she started to run, her mind blank and full of terror as she ignored the pain coming from her backside.

Somehow she found herself at the shallow pond from before and without thinking she threw herself in, her tail immediately extinguished itself with a satisfying hiss. She allowed herself a quick sigh of relief as the cold water soothed her rump and the bottom of her hooves.

But the instant she stood up the burning returned. She was out of the fire already, why was it still burning? Why did it hurt so much still? She gingerly lowered herself back into the pool and winced at how frigid the water felt the second time but just like before it gave her a brief period of respite from the burning.

And then the burning came back.

Awkwardly she dunked her butt into the pond several times in vain desperation to get the soothing effects from before but she was getting diminishing returns. How badly had she burned herself? With a renewed sense of panic she hobbled home, dripping and crying to get to a mirror.

If anything lucky had happened that night it was that no one had noticed her leaving and entering the house. As quickly as her charred limbs would allow she locked herself in the bathroom and braced herself for inspection.

Her tail wasn't too bad off. The ends were singed and some bits were mangled but that could be easily remedied by some nifty scissor-work and brushing.

But the rest of her behind was far worse than she thought.

The cheeks were a bright red angry sheen and already several medium sized white blisters had bubbled up. She delicately poked one and cringed at the sharp pain produced. If she had her cutie mark already would it have been outright cauterized from the incident? Maybe it was a good thing she didn't have it yet.

With that being said, It was hard to tell if the sides of her rump were actually charred or if it was just ash coating everything. But the fear of additional pain prevented her from trying to brush it off and turning on the bath risked waking someone up.

Sweetie Belle knew that the disfiguration was far more extensive and after mentally bracing herself she spread her bum open.

Her anus was swollen that much was certain. Somehow when she was grinding the flames down she had forced a considerable number of cinders directly into her butt. The result was nubs of sensitive skin that had become charred, and everything else was now inflamed.

Oh wait, no, that one wasn't skin. Or rather, wasn't skin anymore. Was a blister still skin? It was difficult enough to think with all the discomfort of not just the sensations, but seeing the injuries directly was not easy on her mind.

Looking a bit further down she teared up even further as she saw the damage done to her vulva. The insides of her folds were mostly safe but the outer folds had taken a large brunt of the flames. It was even a bit comically, one half looked wet and shiny while the other had puffed up. She pried a stick out only to realize that it was a match.

How stupid. This entire incident, all this pain, these problems caused because she couldn't control herself and not only stole some from Rarity, but also something so dangerous. Just from angling to see herself better had caused one blister to painfully rupture, the cool air providing a stark contrast to the angry, hot skin.

The medicine cabinet was popped open and she stared at the various creams and balms. Would any of these help? She pried the lid of a tin of lotion and magically plopped a dollop on the least burnt part of her butt.

And nearly dropped the lotion from the searing pain it caused.

Enough. Enough enough. She put everything back and limped back to her room as stealthily as she could. She'd pretend to be sick tomorrow and then maybe sneak out and visit Zecora. She would know what to do, and she wouldn't judge.

And that's how Sweetie Belle learned not to play with matches.