#Thanks Ben lol

[crimson-hybrid]

Rizzlers, Tenno,

This week is THE WEEK.

As we near the fated day of the NYE kiss, we must remember the great words of our beloved King Arthur:

Get that 100k plat!

(Disclaimer: These are not truths-) (I also purposely made the layout and text bad bc that's kinda how it was back in the 90's, trust me 😂)

[neishroom]

it feels like summer 𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

CLEO'S DIVORCED PARENTS VS HOOKING UP AT EVERY FAMILY EVENT???

mind you... they're both MARRIED/ENGAGED???

[albino-parakeet]

”When you and the bestie are both obsessed with Dark Web Diving”

These dinosaur chains I wanted to buy for my boots sold out and I’m forever mad at myself for not buying them earlier.

So I drew Ben and Brooklynn with them on their boots, to make me feel better. (You can’t really see it on Ben cause of shading rip.)

Timelapse undercut:

Songs used Blister in the Sun Cover by Crummy Stuff (literally what I thought Ben was singing to in that one episode) and Deceptacon by Le Tigre.

[joltrify]

Klyntar/symbiote Ben.

Return of BENOM

[foolsocracy]

I can't help but notice you haven't posted any angst in a while and I'm suspicious

whipped this one up just for u anon

[fbfh]

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 12

wc: 2.6k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, mal x ben (allegedly), reader flirting with Jay for strategic reasons

warnings: sort of kind of dubcon ish only bc reader uses a truth serum on someone but it's contextually ethical and nothing shady happens, made up wonderland plants by yours truly, reader shakes them feminine wiles to get info in a very sfw way

summary: you brew a special blend of tea with the sole purpose of spilling tea with a friend of Mal's.

song recs: what baking can do - waitress OBC, power and control - marina, something bad - wicked obc

a/n: your outfit (it's the same one as ch11), also HI I MISSED YALL. things have been CONSTANTLY happening and good news is I'm finally on the right dose of adderall so I was able to knock out the last part of this chapter in like 20 minutes or smth lol. ily all and if I missed you in the tag list just hoot n holler at me in the tags!!

also candorcorn root is a made up plant that makes people tell the truth, and neutrestnuts are a made up wonderland chestnut that neutralize things

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism @ma1dita @casey1-2007 @roseidol @eaterof-concrete @enhacatalog @inejghafawifesblog @jjmaybankisawesome @leovergurl @formulas-bitch @starsdotalk @tulipmagnoliaisme @inejsknifes @ficslutt @bwormie @urmomlikeslinotoo @jazhandzzz

Your mind is reeling as you go over the elements of the strategy before you again and again. You have the candorcorn root - from the right side of the plant, of course - in a small pouch. You carry it into the school kitchens, gather the rest of your ingredients, and lay them out in a meticulous sort of mise en place. You let out a long puff of air out of your pursed lips, staying in a deep focus as you begin to do something you’ve done a thousand times before.

Brew a pot of tea.

You brew the candorcorn root into a strong concentrate, so strong it makes your eyes water. You set it aside to boil down as you settle on what the body of this beverage will be composed of. Candorcorn root is known for having a strong, bitter taste - sometimes with a sweet aftertaste depending on the truth that’s revealed, but you’re not counting on a particularly sweet truth under the current circumstances. 

To hide some of the earthy bite, you begin making your own blend of different dried herbs, spices, and tea leaves. You start with a base of English dinner - it’s much too late in the evening for English breakfast, even in tea form - then carefully whisk in a little bit of matcha. Once that’s steeping and nicely blended together, you muddle in a few fresh cranberries. You add in a healthy dose of your favorite Port Royal vanilla to lighten the flavor profile and minimize suspicion. 

Feeling mischievous, you add in a few mint leaves to the mix. After it brews together, you waft the steam into your nose. It smells… irresistible. Your mouth waters, and you scribble down the recipe on a napkin to make again later - sans the candorcorn root concentrate, of course. You check your pocket watch, and the time for action is growing nearer and nearer. You bite the crook of your finger in consideration. 

Your mother always used to tell you, the way to a man’s stomach is through his heart, and the way to his heart is through his chest cavity. You suppose it would be a rather good, sensible decision to have a backup plan of sorts. As bizarre as it is to think, you are aware that not everyone drinks tea - especially not as often as you do. You hum and rock on your heels anxiously, eyes darting around the kitchen as the self imposed deadline you’ve set marches coldly closer. 

“Wait,” you murmur, freezing as you get an idea. 

You begin digging through the kitchens as quickly as you can, looking for a few things. If you can get them together, you won’t need to worry about ensuring the specialty tea is consumed in full. You rifle through cupboards and pantry shelves, gathering chocolate spread, a large box of fluffy, cake-like cookies, hot chocolate powder, and a small jar of currents. You look around some more, huffing in irritated frustration at the lack of proper tea biscuits in the kitchen. 

Your disappointment is short lived, however, when you remember the large supply of tea biscuits you always carry around with you for just this sort of emergency. You reach into your teapot bag and pull out your sewing kit, then proceed to swiftly open it up and dump out all the biscuits it contains. Your sewing supplies is kept in a biscuit tin, of course, otherwise you’d get them all mixed up and find yourself hemming your trousers with snickerdoodles. A preposterous idea, of course, everyone knows that biscotti are best for mending trousers. 

The last crumbs fall and you’re brought back to the task at hand. Or rather, at foot, since that’s where the rest of the crumbs land when you stuff the empty tin back into your bag. You let out a shaky but determined breath, and begin to get to work as swiftly as you can manage. You falter once more, realizing that gloves are most likely in order here. You can only find your backup gloves, white and silky with a little pearl in the center of each wrist, but you suppose they’ll have to do.

It’s with a surgical sort of precision that you begin, soaking the biscuits in the candorcorn root concentrate just long enough to get soft around the edges. You lay out each biscuit meticulously, then slather them in a layer of chocolate spread and thick whipped cream. You repeat the process again and again until you’ve a little stack before you. 

Once satisfied with the deceptive desert before you, you top it off with more chocolate spread and a heavy dusting of powdered cocoa mix, sure that the sugary chocolate will balance out the earthy, bitter taste of the candorcorn root. You garnish the top with a few strategically placed dried currants, spelling out eat me along the top. 

You remove your gloves, careful not to get any candorcorn root on your bare hands, then make up another little pastry. The second one, however, is free of any Wonderland serums or juices, and instead is garnished with a few comfits from the container you keep with you - a habit you’d picked up from your mother. 

You next prepare a perfect cup of your brew, then a second containing your secret ingredient. Gloves, of course, are worn during that second step. Your cup is garnished with a piece of fig, the other with a cherry stuck along the rim of the tea cup, bleeding down onto the side. You place everything onto a silver tray, as tenderly as if you were in the middle of diffusing a bomb, and exit the kitchen with it in your only slightly trembling hands. 

You let out a steadying breath as you ascend the stairs in the great hall, making the turn towards the boys dorms. Stopping at an open window, you let out a whistle, signaling to a waiting bluebird that you’re ready, and to send word to your companions for the evening. You walk down the hall as silently as a ghost, only stopping when you hear rowdy yelling coming from behind a particular door. Your heart pounds in your chest, and after a few thrumming pulses, a large cat pads up to you, accompanied by a doormouse. 

“Alright,” you breathe solemnly, “it’s now or ever.” 

The doormouse skitters up to the knob, slipping into the lock and popping it open with a click. It slides down and scurries to safety, and you do the same, moving a few feet away and hiding in an alcove. The cat, brave and noble, slowly enters the room via the now ajar door. It only takes a few moments for the chaos to ensue. 

The silent, still hallway is filled with a riot of barking and yowling as the cat speeds out of the room like a bolt out of blue. She’s followed, of course, by Duke; and Duke is naturally followed by Carlos. They all shout and skitter down the hall, around the stairs, and deeper into the school until they’re out of earshot. You steady yourself, wait a moment, then poke your head into the room, now only occupied by one person. 

Jay.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask coyly from the doorway, blinking up at him. Jay seems surprised to see you, and answers around button mashing his way through the level he’s playing. 

“Uh,” He replies, distracted as he continues to look at the screen. “Yeah.”

He lets out a long string of curses as he takes a nasty hit, hemorrhaging hp when he’s nearly done with the level. There’s still a chance, and he continues to fixate on the screen. 

Perfect, you think.  

Using your foot, you gently nudge the door closed with a click. You reach behind you, flicking the lock closed, and walk forward. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting your winning streak,” you say with a cute smile, deliberately stroking his ego. “I just couldn’t wait until morning to tell you what an amazing job you’ve been doing at tourney.”

That gets his attention. Some of it, at least. 

“Oh, word?” He asks, smirking as he glaces away from the screen a little more. You nod, humming sweetly in response. You keep your eyes trained on him while you reach into your bag and slip on your gloves. You pick up his tiramisu and slink over to his bed, breaking off a moist, chocolaty bite with a fork. 

“Your athletic performance was… nothing short of inspiring.” You say slowly, bringing up the fork to his lips. “I bake when inspired.”

He chuckles, getting that cocky, flirtatious look on his face. He opens his mouth to reply with something you could only assume would be cockier than a spaniel, and in that moment, he presents the perfect opportunity for you to ensure he eats the first bite of your special pastry. He startles a little, then hums in approval at the enticing taste. You hand him the plate and offer him the cherry garnished tea, then remove your gloves, careful not to cross contaminate your dishes from his. 

“This is really good,” Jay says, and you smile more slyly than a Cheshire cat. “So,” you begin, dragging your fingertips across his wrist when he accepts the beverage from you, “tell me.”

You lean in like you’re utterly fascinated by him, like you can’t wait a moment more to learn all there is to know about him. 

“How is it that someone as…” you trail off with a breathy sigh. “Rugged… as you is still flying solo, as it were?”

You take a sip from your cup, gaze locked onto his, scrutinizing each quirk of his brow and twitch of his smirk, searching for anything he might reveal beyond his words.

“Well,” he starts, puffing his chest and acting all cool and nonchalant. “You know, playing the field is a full time job.”

“Both of them.” You hum. He looks at you blankly. You shake your head. 

“Nevermind.” You murmur. You can feel yourself growing antsy. You’re not sure how long your dear cat friend will keep Dude and Carlos distracted, and Jay’s had enough candorcorn root syrup to testify in front of a parliament of owls. It’s time to cut through the detritus and root around until you find what you’re really here for. You set down your teacup, leaning forward.

“Dating must be so hard coming from somewhere like the Isle.” 

He starts to answer, but you don’t pay much mind, continuing your train of thought. 

“It’s just… if someone as enticing as you hasn’t been locked down yet, how is it that Mal managed to get a prince like Ben wrapped around her finger so quickly?”

Jay puffs out his chest, laughing at your flattery and taking another bite of the tiramisu. 

“Well, I’m not really at liberty to say,” he starts, leaning casually and flexing his arms as he stretches. “But let’s just say Mal really worked her magic on him, you know?”

He laughs, and your stomach sinks. You have to remind yourself to manually laugh along with him. 

“Really,” you tease, leaning closer. “And what sort of magic would that be?”

“Oh, you know Mal and her freaky mind control thing.” He chuckles, wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes to mimic when hers glow. 

“But when you’re out on the tourney field…”

He continues boasting about his sportic success, but your mind is entirely elsewhere. Mind control. Of course. You wonder how you didn’t realize it sooner. Mind control, the same trance Mal’s mother used to lure Aurora up to the spinning wheel. Your heart starts thudding painfully in your chest as your mind races, grappling with the ramifications of what this could mean, the danger Ben and all of Auradon could be in. 

You stand up quickly, reaching into your tea pot bag and pulling out a few neutrestnuts you’d snagged from your last trip to Wonderland. You smack one loudly against Jay’s bedpost, cracking it open in one swift movement. Before he can ask what you’re doing - or even realize you’ve stopped listening to his ramblings about tourney - you’ve pushed the nut inside his mouth. 

“There we go,” you say, watching him to ensure he eats it. “There’s your after dinner nut. They’re all the rage in Wonderland.”

It’s a lie, but not one he needs to worry about. You gather up the remaining tiramisu and tea cups, leaving his dorm quickly. The neutrestnut should take effect and neutralize the honesty that comes from consuming candorcorn root, so Jay will be back to rights quite soon and be none the wiser. 

You wrack your mind as you try to figure out where you can learn more about dark fairy magic. Not much is known about it, and what is known is heavily debated by both magic experts and members of the fairy community. You pause, remembering something, something that sits just on the tip of your tongue. The Museum of Cultural History has Maleficent’s staff on display. Maybe there’s some information there, something too specific for the usual library catalogs. 

You check the time on your pocket watch and see the little hand is pointed to the words Hurry On Now Hurry Girl, The Doors Of Wisdom Are Nearly Closed!

Realizing the time pressure cooker of a pickle in which you find yourself, you take off like a bolt of midnight blue, rushing across campus to get to the museum on time. You’re sure you can persuade the guard to let you stay late, being from the Wonderland Embassy and all. When Alice Liddle of Wonderland is your mother, people tend to go along with any strange or unusual requests you make. 

You reach the museum just in the nicknack of time, catching the guard’s eye just as he’s about to lock up. After a rush and babble of explanations, he concedes, letting you in with a concerned nod. You’re not quite sure he’s following what you’re saying, but you’re in, which is really all you’re troubled with at that moment. 

“Oh- uh, I suppose so, Miss Liddel.” The guard agrees. “Just make sure to check in with me before you leave.”

“Thank you so much-” you glance down at his name tag. “Neil. Truly, thank you.”

He nods, accepting your gratitude. Before you can leave, he chuckles lightly.

“Doing some studying for parents day?” He asks with a smile. 

The archive is in your sight, but you stop in your tracks. 

Parents day. 

In the tizzy you’d been swept into you had totally forgotten parents day. Will you have enough time to prepare? You must. There’s really no way around it. Maybe if you can work quickly enough, you’ll be able to get back to your dorm soon enough to get everything ready by morning. You turn to Neil with a smile you hope comes off as sincere and not panicked. 

“Precisely.”

You enter the archive quickly, rushing through titles in hopes of spotting one that reads To Miss Liddel, Within Contains the Answer to All Your Troubles. Just like you’d expected, and unlike you had hoped, that particular book appears to be nowhere in sight. You don’t lose hope, though. You find a treasure trove of old, dusty, complicated books that each contain a little breadcrumb of what you’re looking for. 

You just hope you can gather enough to form a loaf before daybreak.

[dreamings-free]

SCREAMING!

Everyone is in love with him

https://x.com/wheels1d/status/1807487789967323217?s=46&t=OslfnJmU12a9PXhsd2BB6Q

akjsjskk hahahaaa

tiktok

[akkivee]

some peak moments from the mtc fan meeting lmao

god bless asanuma-san’s leather overcoat and leather pants 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

and him sitting on stage when backbone hit with that yakuza drinking cup (a sakazuki cup pls look it up lmao) and mtc brand champagne bottle like bruh?????? why’re mtc so cool 😭😭😭

the champagne bottle was actually just water tho lol

so iirc bb only answered like 2-3 questions on their q&a and that’s what i mean by they talk so much lmao, the mtc seiyuu actually ran out of questions to answer LOL

there was that one that pointed out the seiyuu’s individual hobbies and asked based on said hobbies, what hypmic character would they like to be???

i haven’t slept so i’m like, blanking on asamuna-san’s hobby gomen (i think it was acting??) 🙇‍♀️ but his would be sasara, komada-san the photographer would like to be rei and asanuma-san suggested dice for kamio-san’s magician hobby, and he didn’t disagree but he also locked in jakurai for his answer LOL

there was a sports question i think asking what sports they would like to play. kamio-san is already a recreational boxer!!!!! idk which of the two brought it up, but it was decided asanuma-san should definitely do curling and to demonstrate this, kamio-san offered to be his curling stone. asanuma-san stared at him blankly for a full 30 seconds before agreeing and it sent me LOL

komada-san said he’d like to be a basketball player and they even threw in a slam dunk reference just for meeeee (and the thousands of fans the series has and bc kamio-san is part of the cast LOL)

instead of doing a ranking quiz like bb, mtc seiyuu got to do a shooting target booth!!!!! if they got enough points they’d get to hold a raffle for the audience!!!!

asanuma-san pulled up in his long leather overcoat with a glock and hit two of the five targets and it was so cool like neo keanu who goddamn 😭😭😭😭😭

komada-san got to use a revolver and also hit two of the five targets!!!! (his gun also got jammed lol)

there were only two guns on the table so assnuma-san asked which of the two kamio-san would like to use and kamio-san pulled out a rifle from dj uichi’s booth LOL he also hit all five of the targets never forget who’s the goat in mtc lmao

the seiyuu had all been sharing the mtc champagne water and sipping out of that yakuza cup throughout the live but at the end during final comments, asanuma-san got really thirsty and bc every move he makes causes the audience to scream lmao, his little water break was interrupting kamio-san’s closing message lmao

komada-san decided to follow asanuma-san, so after he got thru with his drink, asanuma poured him some and komada-san drank from the cup. i’m sure by the frenzy it caused, we have another samajuto indirect kiss for the books LOL

asanuma-san served kamio-san as well and the audience tried to get him to chug LOL. he told them to save that energy for shinjuku lmao 😭😭😭😭😭

asanuma-san didn’t forget to serve dj uichi 🤗🤗🤗 i’d like to take this moment now to say that sharing a sake cup like the sakazuki cup usually means a sworn, lifelong bond between drinkers 🤗🤗🤗🤗

[mishoarts]

Once I was telling my brother how the sbg fandom is someway becoming like mha's and the tag got suddenly filled with multi ships, and I wanted to bring up that " Maverick" one and I started with " bro it's the most out of pocket shìt-" and he said " is it smth like Ben x Ashlyn?" (It's probably the only names he remembered at that time lmao )

Before I try to defend, my other brother jumped in " no no this one is actually good,... At least her kids wouldn't be so short-"

And I couldn't resist laughing 💀,..

(Getting my brothers into sbg was somehow the best and the worst idea I came up with)

[mur-art]

Saw this post and it gave me CaliYork vibes.

I feel like New York is very aware of the importance of mental health. He's worked really hard to deal with his own issues and so he tries to be there for others in his own way. He's not going to be gentle or nice about it, necessarily, but he genuinely tries to help nonetheless. Confront him about it, though, and he'll never admit that that's his motivation.

[floating-goblin-art]

comm for @onlyheretolookatthings !!

[zepskies]

Hi! I would love to hear what Ben thinks of the reader's music and what HIS favorite music is. Just picturing a grumpy, old Ben grumbling about "music nowadays" 😂

Hey there, lovely Anon!

Ohohooo, what a great question. 😂 I too can imagine Mr. Grouch trying to understand modern music:

I briefly explored this in Part 5 of Break Me Down, when they're (playfully) arguing about music:

And you talked—about the old-ass TV shows he never got to see the end of, and the new music he hated. You’d enjoyed (gently) teasing him about being an old man who didn’t understand Cardi B when you played it on his phone. You suspected he didn’t quite understand how all the bells and whistles worked on an iPhone yet. (But he’d taken it back from you before you could text anyone.) “In my day, there was a little more fucking class,” he’d said. “Sinatra. Nat King Cole. Christ, the fucking Beatles.”  You’d rolled your eyes at that. You liked all those guys too, actually. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t bang out all the words to “Bodak Yellow” and “Please Me.”

😂 A little more fucking class indeed, Benjamin.

As a more general Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader situation, I explored Ben vs. 90s music in this imagine: Taking Ben to a 90’s themed club.🕺🏻

A highlight from that one:

For a while he just sits at the bar with you while you catch up with your friends. You're so damn excited, he can tell. The inside of the club is interesting, he supposes, with dim lighting and a DJ on the stage with a very sophisticated looking setup that Ben finds wholly unfamiliar. The music, however, is ass so far. What the fuck is this, Hip Hop? Rap? R&B? He can't tell, and he doesn't know any of the songs. It sounds like a bunch of fucking whining. And don't get him started on whatever you call grunge.

But as for Ben's favorite music...

It's my headcanon that he personally identified with the likes of Frank Sinatra ("My Way"), Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, Mel Torme, Nat King Cole, etc. He definitely would've come into adulthood on that and sought to emulate their lifestyle, not just like their music.

Him coming up in the 40s, he probably would've (secretly) liked a bit of Doris Day and Ella Fitzgerald. (In BMD world, it would probably remind him of his mother.)

But there's also some edge to him. He would've embraced some "free love" to to speak lol, so getting through the 60s and 70s, I think he would've liked the Beatles, Rolling Stones, maybe some Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, and Aerosmith coming into the 80s.

Interestingly, from that scene in the Legend's penthouse we know he had Air Supply on in the background, so maybe he's secretly into some classic love songs from the 70s/80s. 😂 Maybe some Bee Gees, Spandau Ballet, stuff like that...

Though God forbid someone try to tease him about it.

Especially when he starts to dip into some of your music when you're not looking. 😏

[parfavar]

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

ty to the people who continuously support me and love me I just. I love yall a lot <3

[joltrify]

id sell my left soul and my lung for more disabled Ben 10 aliens please omg

<3

hope i did okay this time around; still getting back into the swing of things

[foolsocracy]

Hi, hello, I’m new to your blog. I’ve made myself at home. Lovely carpet.

Can I please know more about your spider Robbie pie? Can’t seem to find the silverware.

but of course, kind anon

Spider Robbie is an au in which Robbie Robertson takes up the spider mantle after the death of the one before him. He is the third, following Ben Urich and, most notably, Peter Parker.

This au is very much canon divergence from Eyes Without a Face, where Peter makes it in time to save Robbie from his original fate but dies in the process. Peter is shot while rushing Robbie and the others out. In his panic and elation at finding Robbie physically unharmed, Peter outs himself as the Spider Man to his best friend. Robbie stays with him as he bleeds out and resolves to continue to hide Peter's identity.

Peter is buried and remains that way for... an undetermined amount of time.

Robbie is left with a mask, a jacket, and the question of just who was this other half of his friend. As he learns more of who this... Spider Man was, he gets more and more involved in the spider's cases and conflicts. Robbie gets more sure of his own abilities and makes a bit of a name for the Spider Man within his own community, though the people of Harlem are largely unaware that the appearances of a masked vigilante match the interests of one Robbie Robertson.

It is to be noted that none of these aforementioned abilities are spider-god-induced powers like Peter's. Robbie, especially at the beginning of his spidering career, leans more into Urich's role than Parker's. To me, Robbie has been passionate about the press and journalism in a way that Peter never was. For Pete, his job as a photographer and reporter was a job he took until he could get into college and study science. Robbie has a way with words and communication that Peter frankly lacks. Of course, that isn't to say that Robbie won't be kicking ass, because he will. It will just take him a bit of time to get some of those skills as he's, well, a normal guy. Not everyone can get their biology scrambled like Pete.

And just because Robbie hasn't been scrambled doesn't mean he's completely separate from all things supernatural either!

I think the marvel noir universe is at its best when there's a magical, supernatural undercurrent. This concept isn't super prevalent in the actual comics, but HoplesslyLost on ao3 has done some really cool world building with it.

I think in Robbie's case, where he would be the narrator, "magical realism" would be an interesting avenue to take it. I use this term in particular because I most closely relate it to Toni Morrison in my head, when I first learned about it through her work in high school. For Morrison, the concept was inseparable to blackness and I think for Robbie, where his blackness is so central to his character and his motivations, drawing on that could be more of a service to his character. It feels better to do that than ignore how incredibly racialized his society and story is. It will make his relationship with the spider god, Peter (who I will get to very very shortly), his community, and his own mythos as The Spider Man really interesting and complex.

So it's been established that Robbie doesn't have spider powers. And we all know that Peter did-- or should I say does. One of the spider god's abilities is to bring Peter back to life. She does this in the comics, but not in any of the runs from 2008-2010 (the runs that make up this au). When Peter dies on Ellis Island, he does not think he is coming back from that. Waking up again is a surprise.

Here's where I think the au really takes a left turn. Do I think the Spider God is purely evil and spiteful and has it out for Pete? No, not really. Will I be ramping said traits up to 11 for the au? Yeah, I guess I might. This is because I love a little bit of horror and the came back wrong trope. I will hopefully be fleshing the spider god out in the near future, but I really haven't given her the many hours of thought I have the other characters. For that I'm sorry spider god </3

Peter digs himself out of his grave, more spider than he ever has been. For much of his new, waking life he is more animalistic than not. There is clearly something wrong with him; his joints are too flexible and loose, he's got some eye-shine going on, his skin is pale and his veins are starkly dark beneath it. He's possessed. Someone is puppeteering him, someone who knows a lot-- almost everything about him, but it's clear that the someone isn't him.

And Peter--- the body, it can't be Peter. At least, that's what Robbie thinks when the figure catches his eye the first time. Because Peter is dead and buried, and he has been dead and buried for weeks.