FILE - 11177 - FINN, Clarence
- FULL NAME — Clarence Gethin Finn
- D.O.B. / AGE — October 9 / 31
- THREAT LEVEL — LOW/MEDIUM/HIGH
- LOCATION — THIRTEEN
- HIJACKED — [YES/NO]
- ALLIANCE — REBEL
- KNOWN CRIMES: Treason, assault and battery, extortion
- KILLS: 1
- VOLUNTEERED SOLDIER: [YES/NO]
- JOB: Escort
- HOBBIES: Cards, dancing, painting
- ACQUAINTANCES: Jameson Finn, Nancy DiCarlo, Blight Corby, Johanna Mason, Artie Redwood, Acacio Flamel, Effie Trinket, Katie Jennings, Cassandra Hart
- MARITAL STATUS: Married
- KNOWLEDGE WITH WEAPONS: Good hand to hand combat ( see arrest record)
- CONFIRMED FEARS: Losing loved ones, heights, horror films
- ALIAS / HANDLE — Clary, Clarebear, Bumblebee.
- ID NUMBER — 11177
[LIVING FAMILY MEMBERS]
- FINN, jameson nee Barton (husband)
- FINN, lucas (son - not biological)
- FINN, susan (adopted mother)
- FINN, alan (adopted father)
- SAWYER, archimedes (grandfather)
- SAWYER, baratheon (father)
- SAWYER, addison (mother)
- SAWYER, stannis (brother)
- SAWYER, renly (brother)
- SAWYER, robert (brother)
Sort of, yeah.
Okay, you are mean. But only then. It works out in both our favour, normally.
But sometimes you show it more.
You mean I prove it by kissing the fuck out of you before fucking you, because I get possessive.
I only do it to make you jealous, because when you get jealous, you get possessive.
It still makes it meaner than when you accidentally break a mug. Besides, I’m always possessive over you.
I ruined our mug, that’s being mean.
That doesn’t constitute as mean, it was an accident. Being mean is when you flirt with people in front of me.
James kissed Clary’s cheek. Sorry for being mean to you earlier.
He smiled, bringing his hand up to cup Jameson’s cheek. You weren’t being mean.
I guess we’re both pretty lucky.
The luckiest, really.
I do know, it’s what I think about when I wake up and when I fall asleep. How I am so lucky to loved by such a wonderful man like you.
Clary scoffed. I’m the lucky one. I wake up and go to sleep with my sun, my everything.
He groaned softly, pulling Clary closer. Only mine.
Clary ducked down, pressing his lips to Jameson’s chest, dragging his tongue over his nipple. Only yours.