Jedtavius (Jedediah&Octavius) One-shots

♡︎ - you too?

A/N: This is a very long one, 8k words nahh😮‍💨 While writing, I kept thinking like: omg is it really that hard, just tell him already what?? then I realized it's me that's not making them talk😭
Requested by @BeatleCatLady! Hope this fits to your liking <3

The clattering of hooves echoed faintly through the museum's halls. Jedediah tugged on his reins, trying to focus on navigating his horse through the miniature terrain of the Wild West exhibit, but his eyes kept flicking toward the Roman diorama nearby, where Octavius stood observing the battlefield with his usual air of authority.

"That's your problem, Octavius!" Jedediah finally called out, voice tight with frustration. "You think you know everything just 'cause you're a general. But strategy ain't always the answer to every situation!"

Octavius, standing tall in his armor, turned to face him, brow furrowed. The tension between them hung in the air like an invisible thread.
"Strategy is the answer, Jedediah," Octavius shot back, his voice steady but laced with the same frustration that Jedediah was feeling. "If you would have thought even for a moment before charging head-first into battle, you wouldn't have—"

"I wouldn't have what?" Jed interrupted, his fists clenching at his sides. His horse shifted nervously beneath him as if sensing his mood. "Wouldn't have what? Saved your sorry ass back there?"

The accusation struck him, and Octavius's jaw tightened. His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword, not out of threat but out of frustration. "You nearly got both of us killed, Jedediah. Charging in recklessly—"

"Reckless?!" Jed threw up his hands, eyes blazing. He slid off his horse and stomped closer, not caring how small his footsteps sounded in the big museum. "I was improvising! You don't know how to act when things ain't going your perfect Roman way."

"Improvising," Octavius echoed, each word dripping with cold disbelief. "No, Jedediah, you were impulsive. If I hadn't intervened, we'd have lost everything!"

Jed stood directly in front of him now, their eyes locked in a battle of their own. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension, their breaths coming heavy. It wasn't just about the battle in question anymore. It never really had been.

"Fine!" Jed spat, throwing up his arms. His face flushed red, and he turned to stalk off. "Why do I even bother? Guess my way of doing things isn't good enough for Mr. High and Mighty!"

As he turned, Octavius stepped forward instinctively. "Jedediah, wait—"

Jed spun back, eyes flashing. "What?" he snapped. "You got something else to criticize? Go ahead! I'm all ears!"

Octavius paused, the words he wanted to say sticking in his throat. His usual composure slipped for just a moment, the briefest flicker of something else passing through his eyes. Was it guilt? Hesitation? "That's not what I meant..." he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still too stubborn to apologize outright.

But Jedediah didn't catch it. Or if he did, he wasn't in the mood to listen. He was already storming off toward his own diorama. "You know what? Forget it, Octavius. I don't need to hear this from you anymore."

He mounted his horse with jerky movements and kicked off into a gallop, the hooves clattering noisily against the miniature ground as he disappeared toward the horizon of the Wild West exhibit.

Octavius watched him go, his fists still clenched at his sides, his chest tight with an emotion he couldn't fully articulate. He wanted to call after him, to explain himself better, but the words wouldn't come. It always ended like this. Every time.