BTS IMAGINES

When he saves you from burning alive on your ex-husband's death and marries you

In 1900s, Seoul was a mix of old and new. A dichotomy of tradition and change unfolded. The unsettling practice of widowed women resorting to self-immolation (sati) under the guise of an old tradition.

Women hardly received any formal education and their consent or choice in matters relating to their marriage was non-existent. Working in the public sphere was out of question and women's role was confined to their kitchen only.

These societal afflictions, like silent specters, loomed over the city, prompting a burgeoning collective resolve to challenge the status quo and usher in a transformative era.

It was in this scenario that in an affluent family of seoul, a very traumatizing event took place. The man of the house, Kim Namseok - was now dead only at the age of 30. He had fallen sick to an incurable disease and soon gave up on his life battling the pain.

The flickering flames of the funeral pyre cast a haunted glow on Y/n's tear-streaked face as she stood surrounded by her relatives, who, blinded by adherence to an old orthodox tradition, insisted on pushing her to self-immolation. Her pleas, desperate and heart-wrenching, cut through the somber air.

"Please, I beg you," Y/n's voice echoed through the air, her desperation palpable. Tears streamed down her face, reflecting the flickering glow of the pyre. "I cannot follow this tradition. I don't want to die yet! I want to live."

Her aunts, grandmother, and in-laws, however, remained unmoved, their stern expressions betraying a misguided sense of duty. "It's tradition, Y/n. You must honor it. You have no choice," Namseok's grandmother retorted, her words devoid of empathy.

Yet, Y/n clung desperately to the shreds of her autonomy, her eyes locking onto those who held her fate in their hands. "I have a choice! I want to live, I'm hardly 25 now! Please let me live.... What smy fault here? I don't want to die, please!"

Y/n's parents, her last hope for her life, intervened with their folded hands in front of her in-laws.

"Please, spare our daughter! This tradition is cruel and unjust. There must be another way, please...." Y/n's father begged, his voice laden with the weight of a father's love.

But this tradition of burning the widow on her husband's pyre was unforgiving and relentless.

The atmosphere grew more tense as Y/n's desperate pleas reverberated through the night. Her aunt hardened her heart against Y/n's cries. "Enough of your nonsense, Y/n. This is for the greater good, for our family's honor," she declared, her words laced with an unwavering determination.

Y/n's mother-in-law, echoing the sentiments of generations past, joined the chorus. "You think you can defy centuries of tradition? You are selfish, jeopardizing our family's reputation, I can't even believe we let such a vile woman marry my son Namseok! You're a black spot in the name of your marriage to him," she accused, her eyes devoid of empathy.

But the weight of tradition bore heavily on her family's shoulders, drowning out the pleas of a woman trapped in a cruel fate. Her emotional outcry reverberated through the night, an echo of resistance against the shackles of a tradition that threatened to extinguish her very existence.

The grandmother having had enough of her resistance spoke, "We must preserve our customs. Y/n, you will honor this tradition, for the sake of our family's legacy."

The night turned into a nightmare as Y/n's relatives, ignoring her pleas, got more forceful. They shoved her closer to the pyre, and the heat from the flames felt like a cruel punishment. Y/n's face twisted in pain and fear, her body resisting the relentless push.

As she got closer to the burning pyre, the agony became unbearable. The air itself seemed to conspire against her, and the flames reflected the torment in her eyes. It was like being dragged into a nightmare she couldn't escape.