𝐎𝐰𝐥 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 || 𝐀.𝐂.
Summary : After the Butterfly Project ends and the team goes their separate ways, Adrian Chase decides to pick up a new “hobby.” Unfortunately for you, that hobby is obsessing over owls — and he’s wrong about almost every single fact.
Warnings/Tags: Himbos, Fluff, Post-Canon Events ( after Project Butterfly), Incorrect animal facts, Establish Relationship, GN Reader (gender neutral), Black Market "owl eggs" (???), Spoilers for Season 2 A/N: I literally ran to write this after watching Season 2, like omg James gunn is an absolute genius, ( He makes going to film school worth it)
You should have known something was wrong the moment Adrian Chase bought a neon-blue notebook and scrawled TOP SECRET OWL DATA across the front in red Sharpie. It wasn’t the strangest thing he’d done — this was the same man who once threatened a dishwasher because it “looked suspicious” — but the intensity with which he slammed the notebook down on your coffee table made you wary.
“Project Butterfly may be over,” he said, sprawled on your couch with his Vigilante mask still on, curls poking out at odd angles, “but that doesn’t mean the world is safe. We can’t just… pretend everything’s fine now.”
You frowned. The Butterflies were hard to forget. Tiny, insect-like aliens that burrowed into people’s skulls, hijacking their bodies from the inside out, all while smiling and talking like nothing had changed. Their goal had been terrifying and noble all at once: to take over influential humans and steer the planet away from self-destruction, hoping to prevent Earth from collapsing the way their own world had.
And yet, once Adebayo went public, exposing the entire operation to the world, everything seemed to unravel. The team splintered. Jobs were lost. Economos was shuffled off into another corner of Amanda Waller’s empire, Adebayo burned the bridge with her mother on live television, Harcourt was left wounded and adrift. Everyone scattered in different directions, untethered and aimless. Everyone except Adrian.
Adrian had been there through it all — the betrayals, the firefights, the endless paranoia of wondering who was real and who wasn’t. So maybe it wasn’t so surprising that his mind had latched onto something new.
“Owls,” he declared, pointing a gloved finger at you as if unveiling a great truth. “They’re basically the Butterflies of birds.”
You just stared at him. “…Owls?”
“Yes, Babe. Think about it. Creepy big eyes, turn their heads all the way around, they only come out at night. Totally hiding something.”
And that was how your life descended into owl hell.
He started with the “facts.” Sitting at your kitchen counter, halfway through an entire family-sized bag of chips, he announced, “Did you know owls don’t have bones? That’s how they twist their heads like that. They’re basically bird-shaped slinkies.”
You groaned. “Adrian, they do have bones. That’s how… skeletons work.”
“Nuh uh” he tilted his phone toward you. The search bar read: do owls have bones reddit.
By the end of the week, he was knocking on your door at midnight with a duct-taped shoebox in hand. You didn’t even bother to hide your groan — because when Adrian had a plan, you knew nothing ever went right.
He grinned at you through the doorway, holding the box aloft like some sacred relic. “Owl eggs,” he whispered proudly, eyes practically glowing behind his mask. “I’m gonna hatch them. Then I’ll have an army. Safer than humans.”
You stared at him, then at the box. “…Where exactly did you get owl eggs, Adrian?”
“The black market,” he said instantly, like it was the most normal answer in the world. “Guy in a parking lot sold ’em to me. Said they were rare and totally legit. Cost me three thousand dollars.”
Your jaw dropped. “Three—three thousand?!”
“Yeah,” he said, beaming, clearly pleased with his own resourcefulness. “Pretty good deal, right? I talked him down from five.”
Panic shot through you as you ripped the duct tape off and opened the box, already dreading what horrors you’d find inside. What you did find made you blink. Hard.
“…These are hard-boiled chicken eggs. From the grocery store.”
Adrian peered inside like maybe you’d missed something. “They might just be… sleeping really hard?”
You pressed the heel of your palm against your forehead, torn between wanting to laugh, cry, or strangle him on the spot. “Adrian, please tell me you didn’t really just blow three thousand dollars on someone’s lunch.”
He tilted his head, thoughtful. “Technically, I think it was more like brunch.”
At dinner, you tried to set boundaries. “No owl talk at the table,” you told him firmly, stabbing your pasta with unnecessary force.
He nodded, dead serious. “Got it. Totally respectful.”
Ten minutes later: “So, owls invented Wi-Fi.”
You nearly dropped your fork. “Excuse me?”
“No, it makes sense!” he said, leaning in, his curls bouncing as he gestured with his fork. “The Butterflies took over people by crawling into their brains. Owls hoot at each other across long distances — which is basically encrypted communication. The government stole it. It’s how the internet started.”
You covered your face with both hands. “I cannot believe I’m dating a man who thinks owls invented Wi-Fi.”
“Have you ever seen an owl use dial-up?” he shot back triumphantly.
The following Saturday, he dragged you into the woods for “field research.” You stood shivering, holding a flashlight while Adrian crouched in a bush with binoculars turned completely upside down. He was silent for twenty minutes, then whispered, “Did you know owls hunt using telekinesis?”
You nearly fell over. “That’s not—”
“Think about it! Have you ever seen an owl just… walk up and grab something? No. They just stare until it dies.” He lowered the binoculars dramatically. “Telekinesis. Case closed.”
You laughed so hard you had to sit down, clutching your stomach. Adrian stared at you, confused but delighted, like he’d just solved climate change.
Later that night, back on the couch, he finally pulled his mask off, curls damp with sweat from his “mission.” For the first time all week, he was quiet. You nudged him gently. “You know all your facts are wrong, right?”
“Yeah,” he admitted softly, eyes flicking to yours. “But it’s fun watching you argue with me about them. And…” He trailed off, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “It’s easier to think about owls being evil than… Butterflies being real. You know?”
The words hit heavier than you expected. For all his nonsense, it was the closest he’d come to admitting how much the whole thing had shaken him. You reached out and squeezed his hand.
He brightened a little at that, tilting toward you with a mischievous grin. “Wanna hear one more?”
You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “Go ahead. Blow my mind.”
“Owls mate for life.” He leaned closer, voice low, conspiratorial. “Just like us.”
You blinked. “…Adrian.”
“What?” His grin only widened, smug and hopeful all at once. “That’s a real fact this time.”
You weren’t entirely sure it was. But the way he was looking at you — earnest, ridiculous, soft in the corners of his eyes — you decided not to argue.
“Fine,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. “One real fact.”
He beamed, leaning back like he’d just been proven right about everything. “Told you. I’m basically an owl expert.”
And when his fingers curled gently around yours, you didn’t correct him. Not about the owls. Not about anything.
