....by-myself

a song of ice and fire au where literally everything is the same except snow is actually popcorn
  • “Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the popcorn fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.”
  • Bran looked down. There was nothing below him now but popcorn and cold and death, a frozen wasteland where jagged blue-white spires of ice waited to embrace him. They flew up at him like spears. He saw the bones of a thousand other dreamers impaled upon their points. He was desperately afraid.
  • “Under the sea, it popcorns up,” said the fool, “and the rain is dry as bone. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh.”
  • The popcorn fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the popcorn and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood. For the gravestones in the lichyard she used bits of bark. Soon her gloves and her boots were crusty white, her hands were tingling, and her feet were soaked and cold, but she did not care. 
  • Pycelle stroked the popcorny beard that flowed down his chest.
  • “You know nothing, Jon Popcorn.”