Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So base line is.

Tommy escapes the Dream SMP, makes it to the Hermit craft server. Where Xisumavoid is informed about what happened on this, not listed server, so he reports everything to the Admin council. Xisumavoid then breaks through the coding of Dream SMP, releases everybody, Apprehends Dream, and sends Dream to The Admin council for his hearing.

But since Dream is 22, and got his License when he was 16 (The official admin license is Given at 21), he is given a chance at redemption.

Dream can go Straight to avoid prison where he’ll never be let out, or he can through a admin mentorship under a senior admin. He would have to go to therapy weekly and show improvement. His Admin powers will be controlled by his senior.

Dream, of course choose the Mentor program and is place under Xisumavoid.

Now, here where you come in.

This is a slow fix, since a lot of people left this fandom, which is fine, but I still wanna write for it. The thing is, I’m more of a One shot writer, even for the same topic more than a constant story chapter 123 thing. So I want you to give prompts about Dream being on hermit craft! I want prompts about him interacting with characters, getting punished by X or Grian (Since he’s also a senior Admin) or literally anybody on the hermit craft server or close enough admin like Scott Major, learning about fucking compassion or some shit (life lessons). You could make things up, or bring scenes from season 8+ (take place season eight, but you can do From seasons later).

While the Hermits don’t approve of what Dream did, The Hermitcraft server is a place where people can be themselves and heal from their past. So while it’s Dream’s prison it’s also his rehabilitation. So, he’s not so much treated as a prisoner, more of a disobedient child.

Characters:
Prompt:
Scene:
Extra information if wanted or needed:

Remember the main focus is punishment, but it is not required. The hermits are trying to teach a Dream how to be a better person/admin.

Dream does have a tiny blob form please request blob Dream

Chapter Text

Dream was pacing in the small courtyard just outside his quarters, ranting under his breath about the latest "outrageous" punishment Xisuma had doled out. A stack of chores had been added to his daily schedule, and Dream was fuming about it to anyone—or anything—that would listen, including the harmless blobs that floated nearby.

“I don’t need another lecture, and I definitely don’t need X breathing down my neck,” Dream snarled, kicking a nearby flower pot and sending it skittering across the cobblestones. “This whole setup is ridiculous. They don’t even know what real power looks like!”

“Don’t we?” a smooth, familiar scottish voice chimed in from behind him.

Dream whipped around to see Scott leaning casually against a low stone wall, one eyebrow arched and a small smirk playing on his lips. His admin magic gleamed faintly, a subtle but undeniable reminder of his authority.

“What are you doing here?” Dream demanded, his voice laced with irritation.

Scott straightened and approached, his hands in his pockets. “Xisuma asked me to check in while he’s busy. Seems like you’ve been causing quite the ruckus again.”

Dream crossed his arms, his glare hardening. “So what? Are you here to lecture me too? Let me guess—you’re going to tell me how I need to ‘learn my place’ or whatever nonsense you all keep spouting.”

Scott’s smirk faded, replaced by a sharp, assessing look. “You know, I’m usually pretty patient. But that attitude?” He stepped closer, his voice lowering into something more serious. “That’s going to get you in trouble real fast.”

Dream rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say a word, Scott’s hand shot out, delivering a sharp pop to Dream’s mouth with a nice flick of the fingers. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt, but it was startling and humiliating enough to leave Dream stunned.

“Ow!” Dream sputtered, his hand flying to his mouth as his face turned red with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Scott tilted his head, completely unbothered. “What? Did you think I was going to stand here and let you talk to me like that? Dream, I’ve dealt with far more difficult players than you. You’re not special, and that attitude of yours? It’s not going to fly with me.”

Dream clenched his fists, his pride stinging as much as his mouth. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, I can,” Scott interrupted, his tone cool and unyielding. “You forget who you’re talking to. I’m not Xisuma, and I’m not Grian. I don’t do the whole patient, guiding mentor thing. If you want to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like one. Simple as that.”

For a moment, Dream was silent, his jaw tightening as he glared at Scott. But Scott didn’t flinch under the intensity of the stare—in fact, he looked almost amused.

“Anything else you’d like to say?” Scott asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

Dream hesitated, then muttered, “No.”

“Good,” Scott said with a satisfied nod. “Now, let’s try this again. You’re going to clean up that flower pot you kicked over, and then you’re going to finish the chores Xisuma assigned you. And if I hear so much as a peep about you throwing another tantrum, we’re going to have another conversation—and trust me, you won’t like how that one ends.”

Dream grumbled under his breath but moved to pick up the flower pot, glaring at the ground as he did so. Scott watched him for a moment before speaking again, his tone softening slightly.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Scott said. “You’ve been given a second chance—something most players in your position wouldn’t get. You might want to start acting like you deserve it.”

Dream didn’t respond, but the weight of Scott’s words lingered as he continued his tasks.

Chapter Text

The training field on Hermitcraft was quiet except for the rhythmic clash of swords and the low huff of exertion. Dream moved like a predator—quick, calculating, pushing forward with practiced aggression. Across from him, GeminiTay matched his pace with calm precision, her expression focused but not hostile. This was a sparring session, not a war. At least, for her.

Dream, on the other hand, was fighting like it was life or death.

“You’re fast,” Gem said between parries. “But you push too hard. You waste energy.”

“Better than holding back,” Dream snapped, slashing harder.

Gem’s brow furrowed, but she said nothing. She dodged his next strike and swept his legs out with practiced ease. Dream hit the ground hard, rolled, and came up again, snarling as he charged. She met him head-on.

The final blow was clean—her sword arced in a blur of movement, and before Dream could register it, his screen went black.

You died

For one awful second, Dream’s world stopped.

And then—
Respawn.

He gasped. Not in pain, but in confusion and terror. His hands fumbled at his wrists, looking for the glow of life counters—nonexistent in Hermitcraft. He opened his menu, scanned through the stats. Nothing was missing. Nothing had changed.

But his heart was pounding like a war drum. His mouth went dry. His legs trembled.

“Three lives,” he muttered, eyes wide. “No. No no no—did I just lose one? I had— I only have two now—” His voice broke into panicked fragments. “I—I didn’t mean to lose one. I didn’t mean to—”

“Dream?” Gem’s voice was calm but firm, grounding him like a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Look at me.”

Dream was kneeling on the grass now, staring at his empty hands like they should be bleeding. Gem crouched in front of him, brows drawn together in concern.

“You’re okay. You respawned, see? You didn’t lose anything.”

Dream looked up at her, pale and shaking. “But—I died. You don’t get to come back after that. Not without... not without consequences.”

“Not here,” Gem said gently. “This is Hermitcraft. You can die a hundred times, and the server will still let you come back.”

He blinked at her. “That’s not how it works.”

“It is here,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You're not on the Dream SMP anymore, Dream. You don’t need to be afraid like that.”

His shoulders sagged, the tension draining out of him like air from a punctured balloon. He stared at the grass beneath his knees, eyes wide, lips trembling. “I forgot,” he whispered. “I forgot what it was like to feel safe.”

Gem didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she sat beside him, not too close, just close enough. “You’re not the first person to come from a server like that,” she said. “And you won’t be the last. But here, you can start over. You can breathe.”

Her voice, steady and quietly reassuring, echoed something in his memory—Puffy. That firm kindness, that strength wrapped in warmth. It rattled something in him.

“You remind me of someone,” he said softly. “She used to try to help me too.”

Gem glanced at him. “Did you let her?”

He didn’t answer.

After a moment, she stood and offered him her hand. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat. And maybe tomorrow, we spar again—but this time, we go slow.”

Dream hesitated... then took her hand.