Raven is Top Tier

Dick didn't know Raven could house such desires. Before Garth, he'd never seen Raven unabashedly wanting before. Not for the last box of chamomile teabags on the shelf at the market, let alone another being. And for someone to bring that out of her... Someone that wasn't him. Well, it still made his blood boil just on principle. Even if the only wide blue expanse her nude body now graced were her sheets.

"It doesn't matter," Dick growled. He was done stewing over the past; he intended to make full use of the present. He was sure in his haste he wasn't making much sense tonight, but that didn't stop him. "I don't want anyone flirting with you and I don't want you flirting with anyone else either."

"Why is that?" Raven teased.

He wasn't sure she was taking it seriously, but he couldn't help it. "I don't want you to," Dick repeated. "And I don't think you want to."

"That's presumptuous of you," She quipped. "There was something about the way he filled out a black and blue unitard that sent me completely off the rails..." Raven was driving him mad. He was certain she was enjoying herself more than a little.

But, Garth. That...that...

That nautical knockoff.

"A black and blue unitard?"

"Yep." Raven folded her arms.

"Something as ubiquitous as black and blue spandex is really all it takes to get under your cloak?"

"And a head of impossibly black hair—probably product enhanced. A winning, photo-op ready smile. Throw in a box of brooding, a forkful of familial issues, and a splash of almost unreasonable moral obligations..." She shrugged and for once he couldn't tell where the sarcasm ended and she began.

But it was her cauldron and Raven's recipe was to be imbibed at her leisure.

"You make us all sound like action figures," Dick scoffed in mock outrage. 

"It could start to sound that way, yes," she said casually. "But when you boil it down..." She shrugged as if her point was made.

"Is that all we are to you, Raven? Is that all I am?"

"If the painted on briefs fit." She stifled a snort. "Or bat briefs in your case."

He couldn't tell if she was serious or not, or just toying with him. But he liked it. He wanted to prove himself to her. He was better. He was the original black-haired, blue-unitarded man in her life, after all.

"Raven, I don't know what you're trying to do to me, but I have to admit it's working."

"Oh? Do you like being told you're a product?" Her lips parted wider than needed on the last syllable, so he could just make out her tongue touching the roof of her mouth. And Dick shivered at the memory of what that tongue could do.

He snatched her hand and steered it to his chest, particularly glad he'd spent more time on upper-body this morning. "What else do you think I am?" No longer guided by his own, her touch trickled down to his abs. "Tell me."

"I think, you're..." But with her fingers on his impeccably toned stomach, she was finding it hard to say anything at all. "You're so full of hot air, it's a wonder you need a grappling hook. You could probably just glide over to the next rooftop."

"You think so?" he mused. "Well, I happen to crave an extended session with a rather gifted healer." He bit his lip at the double entendre. "One with a very soothing touch, who's extremely easy on the eyes." Dick's blue gaze shifted over her figure. "Maybe I might have to try it one of these days, see if I stick the landing."

"Pity," she swallowed. "I guess then the Titan's Most Charming Smile Award will go to someone more deserving this year. At long last."

A wide smirk spread across his face. "This smile?" He chuckled. Dick's fingers feathered her wrist and with a swift singular motion, he tugged her closer so he could speak low in her ear. "How about I prove to you once and for all that it's good for something?"

The depths of the underworld seemed to rise up in an echo in the column of her throat and lunge toward him, hovering in the air like a thousand suspended daggers waiting to strike at her command.

Jason recoiled ever so slightly, his neck jerking backward as he cleared his throat. 

“Well, it’s not that I’m impatient.” 

Even if he had been sitting on the floor of her room for over five hours. Quietly. With his legs crossed. How the hell did she do this day in and day out without her ass getting sore? The whole levitating thing probably helped. He probably shouldn’t have been thinking about her ass as often as he did. But he couldn't really be blamed for that, could he?

Could anyone with eyes and a pulse?

“And…uh, it’s not that you’re not doing your best and I don’t want to interrupt you while you work.” Even though she hadn’t spoken anything aloud since he stepped into her chambers. 

Other than indecisively muttering to herself on occasion. 

“And yet, here you are, you’re interrupting me…” Raven mumbled with just a smidge more unmitigated disgust than Jason would have liked.

With a crooked finger she coaxed a stained, cloth-bound book forward and tucked a chin length lock of hair behind her ear. Was that a coffee stain? Maybe. A spilled potion? He couldn’t tell. Or maybe it was blood…?

Oh Gods, this spell didn’t involve some sort of blood sacrifice, did it? Although, depending on how Raven inflicted said pain, he might not be entirely opposed. 

“You’re doing great work here, really. I’m sure you are,” Jason nodded, gesturing vaguely to the theatricality of flickering candles. “And it’s not that I don’t enjoy the vibe, with this whole witchy ASMR situation you’ve got going on.” He shrugged. “But, it’s just…”

She closed the cover and it flew back into its place with the spine stacked neatly next to its fellow. The next book in line landed neatly in her palm, while the rest in the queue waited patiently, as if they were all standing in line for opening day at Jump City’s newest artisanal doughnut shop. 

Her flashing eyes flew from the page and up to his own. “Get to the point, Jason?” 

“Raven,” he started again. And he tried not to smirk, though he couldn’t help but feel a shred of vindictive pleasure at her annoyance with him. From the undisguised patronizing. The taunts. His proclivity to take up even more space than she allotted for him. From the widened width of his legs to his outstretched arms. But mostly, her inability to figure this out and wrap it up with a big red bow. 

“Raven, there’s no place I’d rather be, believe me.” He detected an undertone in her throat that denoted she felt otherwise. "But it’s just really, really hot in here.”

“Hot?” Raven’s face froze. Her lips refused to form their additional question. 

“I was referring to the temperature. Not the glassy eyed affect of yours where you stare into space during a trance like some sort of cloaked, stuffed creature.” He gestured to the room. “All these candles are a bit much.”

“So?” Her forehead creased. “They are necessary. You, however…”

“Well, alright, then.” Jason shrugged, sounding as though whatever happened next was on her. “If you refuse to make your little fire hazard up to code, I’ll just have to help myself.” 

“Whatever. Just don’t break the circle,” she said dismissively, waving a pale hand at the flickering wax pillars enclosing her lotus positioned body. 

Raven’s eyebrows raised as he stripped off his brown leather jacket. He could feel her purple stare searing his skin and he’d be damned if he stopped there. He reached for the hem of skintight black and red spandex and pulled it straight over his head.

“Ah, that’s much better already.” He sighed and laid back, pressing the dome of the Red Hood mask to his forehead. “I’ll confess, I don’t know how you do this every day.”

The purple eyebrows hiked further and further up her face. Then she tilted her face away from his direction, subtly as she could with cheek in hand.

“I wasn’t aware—I suppose I’m used to it.”

What is explicitly canonical in the dialogue

From this scene, we have some very clear, unambiguous canon facts:

Damian asked Raven to join him in leading the League of Assassins

He explicitly states it was not because she’s a good fighter

He confesses romantic feelings

He frames the request as emotionally vulnerable and deeply personal

Raven understands it as such (her response confirms she clocked the weight of it)

That much is hard canon. No debate there.

Is “join me in leading” literally a marriage proposal in-text?

Strictly speaking? No.

The film never uses the words marriage, wife, queen, or bride.

So if someone asks:

“Is this explicitly stated as a marriage proposal in canon?”

The honest answer is:

No, not textually explicit.

But that is not where the conversation ends—and this is where I think my argument actually has teeth.

The cultural context matters (and canon allows for it)

Within League of Assassins canon across DC media, leadership is:

Dynastic

Familial

Intimately tied to bloodline and legacy

Almost always ruled by a pair or family unit, not some casual co-lead situation (Which I think most of us are aware of.)

So when Damian says:

“When I asked you to join me in leading the League of Assassins…”

He is not saying:

“Hey, wanna be my coworker?”

Nah.

He is saying:

“Stand beside me at the highest level of power in my world.”

That is functionally spousal, even if it’s not linguistically labeled as such.

Like, homeboy is basically saying: “Come be my Demon Queen.”

Ballsy. And we dig it.

Damian’s character specifically strengthens this reading

This part is key.

Damian Wayne:

Does not emote casually

Does not offer vulnerability lightly

Does not share power unless it is earned or bonded

Was raised in a culture where commitment precedes romance, not the other way around

For this character, with this upbringing, that phrasing carries way more weight than it would coming from literally anyone else.

And the fact that he only clarifies his feelings after Raven declines suggests:

He understood the request as profound

He believed the meaning was self-evident

He only spells it out because she didn’t fully understand what he was asking—and in the throes of the final hour, he needed her to know what he meant.

Which is. So. Fucking. Cute.

Honestly, I feel like this actually reinforces the interpretation. If you disagree? That’s fine. We’re just not friends 😜

So what is my argument, canonically speaking?

My argument is not:

“Damian canonically proposed marriage.”

But it can be accurately stated as:

“Within the cultural and narrative framework of the League of Assassins and Damian’s upbringing, asking Raven to ‘join him in leading’ functions as the emotional and symbolic equivalent of a marriage proposal, even if not textually labeled as such.”

Which is:

Canon-supported

Textually defensible

Character-consistent

Not contradicted anywhere in the DCAMU

In fandom terms: This is strong implicit canon, not just shipping headcanon.

In conclusion (aka thanks for coming to my TED Talk)

I’m not claiming Damian said the word marry.

I’m saying that in the League of Assassins, shared leadership is an intimate, lifelong bond tied to legacy. And given Damian’s upbringing, values, and emotional restraint, asking Raven to rule beside him is functionally equivalent to proposing a shared life together.

Anyway. That’s my rant.