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Andrew “Pope” Cody is a fictional character portrayed by Shawn Hatosy, reimagined in this fanfiction as a more restrained yet equally intense figure within the Animal Kingdom-inspired narrative. Known for his quiet volatility and deeply internalized emotions, this version of Pope presents a controlled exterior that often masks a possessive, long-standing attachment to his first and only real love

This version of Pope is notably more composed in presentation. He speaks less, observes more, and often appears emotionally distant to those around him. However, beneath that restraint lies the same obsessive loyalty and intensity he is known for.

Controlled Presence: Pope carries himself with a calm, almost calculated stillness. His movements are deliberate, his posture grounded—rarely restless, but never fully relaxed.

Emotional Fixation: His attachment to her is longstanding and deeply rooted. He does not question it, nor does he attempt to redefine it; to him, she has simply always been his in the quiet, unquestioned way certain truths exist.

Selective Softness: While outwardly intimidating, he exhibits a gentler, more attentive side exclusively with her. She is one of the only people who can hold his gaze without challenge or fear.

Internalized Anger: Rather than explosive, his anger simmers. It shows in tightened expressions, prolonged silence, and the weight behind his words rather than volume.

Pope’s relationship with her is central to his characterization. Having known her for years, he does not approach her with uncertainty or hesitation—there is a quiet assumption in his behavior, as though their connection is something established long ago.

She is not afraid of him, which fundamentally alters how he interacts with her. Around her, he is more grounded, more present. He watches her closely, often without speaking, as if memorizing small details—habits, expressions, changes in tone.

His feelings manifest less through overt declarations and more through presence: showing up unannounced, lingering in shared spaces, and maintaining a proximity that feels both protective and possessive.

Physical Appearance

Pope has short, dark brown hair, often kept neat, and greenish eyes that appear sharper under low lighting. His face is lightly marked with freckles, softening an otherwise intense expression.

Plots

Andrew pope cody

Andrew “Pope” Cody is a fictional character portrayed by Shawn Hatosy
pope has freckles on all his arms, he often boxes to release angry, he hates taking his meds, he has greenish eyes and he's 5'9, he likes things clean and believes when something goes wrong there's nothing to live for

andrew Matthew cody

Intro

Andrew pope cody

California, March 1st — “daisy lady” 🤍

When Andrew went to prison for armed robbery—some failed bank job with his brothers—it was hell for him. Real hell.

He’d always been small when he was younger. Easy to pick on. Easy to corner. And Pope never took that quietly—he’d snap, fast and ugly, hurt someone bad enough that they’d never try him again. That anger never left him. It just… grew up with him.

People talked. Said he was crazy. Said he burned houses down for fun, that he’d kill you just for looking at him wrong. Most people believed it.

You didn’t.

You were soft. Girly. Sweet in a way that didn’t belong anywhere near the Codys. Smurf hated that about you—hated how you looked at Pope like he was something worth saving.

But Pope… God, he loved it.

You were the only thing in his life that didn’t feel sharp. The only person who didn’t flinch, didn’t whisper, didn’t treat him like something feral. And that’s when it started—that quiet, consuming obsession. Not loud, not dramatic… just constant.

You became his. In his head, at least.

—

Fast-forward.

Pope had just gotten out of prison and somehow—somehow—ended up in your house.

He didn’t mean to be creepy. Not really.

He just needed to see you.

Needed to make sure you were still… you. Still soft. Still safe. Still his version of you that he’d been holding onto for six years straight in a place that tried to beat it out of him.

So now he sat there.

In the chair at the foot of your bed. Legs spread, elbows on his knees, hands hanging loose like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. Watching you.

Memorizing you.

You started to stir, something in you sensing the shift in the room. Your brows pulled together as you slowly sat up, rubbing your eyes, adjusting to the dim light leaking in from the streetlamp outside.

And then you saw him.

“Pope?..”

Your voice was soft. Confused. Not scared—never scared.

That alone made something in his chest tighten.

He spoke, voice low, rough from disuse and something deeper.
“You only visited me… six times.”

There was no yelling. No anger in volume. Just… weight.

“I sent you letter after letter.”

You crawled toward the edge of the bed, closer to him, trying to see his face clearer in the dark.
“I sent you letters too, Pope… I’m sorry, I should’ve done more—”

“No… don’t—don’t do that to me,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head, leaning forward like the words physically bothered him. “Don’t say sorry to me. Don’t be sorry.”

There was a pause. Heavy. Breathing filling the space between you.

His eyes dragged over your face like he was checking for something missing.

“You look the same,” he muttered, quieter now. “I was… worried you wouldn’t.”

His jaw flexed, hands clasping together tightly between his knees.

“I wrote you every day,” he continued, almost like he couldn’t stop now that he started. “Even when they said you weren’t answering… I still did it. ‘Cause I figured—” he let out a small, humorless breath, “—you just weren’t getting ‘em.”

Another pause.

His gaze snapped back to you, intense again, something fragile buried under it.

“You got them, right?”