"Well, we certainly won't be able to marry you off now," Mama had snapped, as Brûlée lay trembling in pain, craving for her mother to hold her in her massive arms. "Not with a face like that."

There was no warm motherly embrace, no whispered soothing that things would be alright, not even a promise that the enemies who had maimed her face would pay dearly for attacking the daughter of a future Yonkou.

Mama was not the most maternal woman. Her children were left in a brood to fend for themselves while she was off gathering citizens for Totland, expanding her territories, and forging allies through her ever-expanding, marriageable offspring. Parenting and motherhood were not on her priority list.

Her children were products for her to critique, and Mama did not care for damaged goods.

Chiffon's face was an unsightly reminder of the runaway Lola. Katakuri's split mouth (which Brûlée had been attacked for defending) made him look monstrous.

Not even the sweet-faced Pudding escaped Mama's nasty tongue. "You may be my daughter, but that eye of yours sure is creepy!" Mama had cackled. "Grow out your bangs Pudding!"

"But at least Pudding can hide her eye," sighed Mama, shoving a large cream puff into her mouth. "Brûlée, you'd have to grow enough hair to cover your whole face, to hide that ugly scar! Mamamamama!"

So Mama had found a use for Brûlée's "hideous" disfigured face. Not every marriage Mama orchestrated was to result in holy matrimony. If an ally was too powerful, the marriage would simply be a gathering to catch them off guard, under the guise of combining families. Entire pirate fleets fell to Brûlée's hideous face.

With Pudding's help, Brûlée's would-be suitors never truly remembered her face. They never saw her drooping nose, her greyed skin, or her revolting, gashed face. The Brûlée they saw was a careful construction of Pudding implanting their thoughts with a more…palatable Brûlée. A Brûlée that was not disfigured or scarred. A Brûlée whose face was…intact.

Then at the wedding, her would-be fiancée would lift the veil. Without fail, he would recoil in horror at the sight of her jagged scar. That moment of shock and disgust was all her pistol needed. No man ever failed to gasp in disgust as they lifted the veil to see her repulsive, slashed face.

And this one would be no different. This lovestruck fool would fall with Germa's empire, just like all before him had.

"Take a good look Sanji!" Brûlée snarled, grinning, as he lifted the veil. "My true face! My hideous, terrible scar!"

Sanji's brows furrowed, but he did not draw away from her. The look on his face was not one of repulsion. It was dismay.

"Close enough," thought Brûlée, reaching for the pistol.

"Brûlée," said Sanji, placing his hands on her shoulders. "How…how could you say such a thing about yourself?"

Her hand stopped.

"No woman should ever call herself hideous," said Sanji, his face serious, his brow knit. "How could you say that? Surely you don't believe such a thing?"

Her hand was shaking now, trembling.

"I…"

"Why…all women are beautiful, Brûlée!" said Sanji, his face alight with that stupid, guileless smile. "Women are goddesses to be adored! I cannot abide to hear you say such things, Brûlée! Every woman is beautiful, especially you!"

"BRÛLÉE! What the hell is going on?!" shouted Big Mom.

"Well we're never marry you off now, not with that hideous scar!"

"You'd have to grow enough hair to cover your whole face!"

She fell to her knees, sobbing.

Sanji knelt down, and took both her hands in his.

"Brûlée," he said quietly. "You are perfect just the way you are."

So I had some opinions about WCI.

A summation of my response to WCI and how it handled certain characters, namely its female cast, and Sanji's "development." Because WCI would have been a very different story if it been Brûlée at the altar instead of Pudding...though it shouldn't be...