Dayley Stevens

“I don't do what I'm told, but I might do what you want if you ask me nicely.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“It's not funny, Jace," Alec interrupted, starting to his feet. "Are you just going to let her stand there and call me names?"

"Yes," Jace said kindly. "It'll do you good-- try to think of it as endurance training.”
― cassandra Clare

“Good organization,” said Magnus. “I knew the man who founded it, back in the 1800s. Woolsey Scot. Respectable old werewolf family.”
Alec made an ugly sound in the back of his throat. “Did you sleep with him, too?”
Magnus’s cat eyes widened. “Alexander!”
― Cassandra Clare

“You never called me back," he said. "I called you so many times and you never called me back."
Magnus looked at Alec as if he'd lost his mind. "Your city is under attack," he said. "The wards have been broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven't called you?"
Alec set his jaw in a stubborn line. "I want to know why you haven't called me back."
Magnus threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation. Alec noted with interest that when he did it, a few sparks escaped from his fingertips, like fireflies escaping from a jar. "You're an idiot."
"Is that why you haven't called me? Because I'm an idiot?"
"No." Magnus strode toward him. "I didn't call you because I'm tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I'm tired of watching you be in love with someone else - someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do."
"You love me?"
"You stupid Nephilim," Magnus said patiently. "Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge!”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass