The man with the stitched bunny mask – his crimson eyes, twin embers glowing in the gloom, always found their mark, a chilling prelude to his actions. And this man was your husband, a brilliant mind fractured by humanity's perceived failures, finding solace and power in the demon realm.

Discovering his forbidden work should have been your end. You braced for torment, humiliation, death. Instead, he offered a gloved white hand, a gesture of unsettling gentility that drew bewildered stares from the demons surrounding him. Despite their nightmare-inducing presence, you warily accepted, allowed to return home unharmed.

Thus began your improbable relationship. Secrets, both his shadowed and your own, were shared. Your parents, initially terrified by your connection to such a dangerous criminal, found a fragile peace in your assurances, their vigilance never fully receding.

His living room became a stage for the bizarre: you, offering tea to underworld lords whose gazes never left you. Your discomfort didn't escape your husband; his protective intensity, a silent warning, escalated towards those who watched you too closely.

Now, a new life stirred within you, a being embraced in this strange world. Life with the White Rabbit wasn't without its challenges, but he was your husband, a complex man, and, you believed, a good father to the children you would raise together.