My name describes what you do to me, not what I do

First five beat the darkness. Last four can get planted. This will go off over your head when you figure the riddle out. If you're a cartoon, that is.

Born of the land, but I die in the sea, Though I float in the salt, fresh water made me. You see only my crown, while my giant body is drowned, A cold, silent giant where deep ships go down.

I spin without a thread, and build without a brick. I weave a sticky, silken trap to catch the passing quick. Though found on castle walls or in a dusty hall, I wear no crown, yet rule the corner where I fall. What am I?

I am born of a tear, yet I quench fire's thirst, I grow to my very limits, but I bend till I burst. I erase all your errors, though I wear myself at the slightest stress, And I jump up and down on the street with no mess.