Why I Do NOT Like Pudding
Pudding is the 35th daughter of Big Mom, one of the Four Emperors, once standing close to the pirate throne. Behind her stands enormous territory, considerable wealth, and a fearsome reputation. And, of course, an army. Big Mom earned her name not only because of her own “substantial size,” but also because she is legitimately considered one of the most prolific mothers at sea.
Big Mom protects her children with her status and name, but if you ask: “Does she love them?” — the answer becomes hazy. What matters most to her is that everyone lives according to her plan, both outside and inside her home. Every member of the family has a designated role in her strategies, and the relationships between siblings are usually formal (the exception being perhaps Katakuri). They are bound by patriotic loyalty, not genuine closeness.
Many of Big Mom’s children are only half-siblings, with different fathers and different races: humans, fish-men, merfolk, half-giants, long-arms, and three-eyes. As for their “attractiveness” — that’s a subjective matter… Take Brûlée, for example, a caricature witch straight out of Hansel and Gretel. And the same “unfortunate monster” trope was applied to Pudding.
But is that really the point? If you strip away the “monster” label, is Pudding actually a good person?
The Myth of the Poor Girl Who Was Forced
Let’s start from Pudding’s very first meeting with the Straw Hats. That encounter was entirely her own initiative: she sweetly played along, acting like a helpful ally, when Big Mom had no idea they had arrived and had no influence on the situation. Even then, Pudding chose theater — wearing the mask of an “ally” to win over the guests. And tellingly, shortly after, she directed them straight into the Seducing Woods, a trap that almost led to their deaths and ultimately to their capture.
A common argument is: “But Big Mom made her do it!” Yes, the order to kill Sanji at the wedding came from above. But everything Pudding did before that — those were her own decisions.
She toyed with Sanji’s feelings and trust, and found his situation genuinely amusing.
She lured in and shot Reiju herself to try a new weapon. Started to tell to Reiju how her whole family and brother will be murdered while she was parallyzed.
She personally went to the Straw Hats in prison to gleefully describe how their friend would be killed and how they would be powerless to stop it.
And importantly: Big Mom or her family didn’t even know about many of these incidents — the scene with Reiju, the “balcony” with Sanji, and more. She only needed someone to play the “bride” for the wedding plan; all the sadistic stage direction — the tone, the words, the delivery — was Pudding’s own choice.
The Contrast: Sanji at That Moment
While Pudding was enjoying her little game, Sanji was in a state that would have completely broken almost anyone else: beaten, swollen, humiliated, shackled, under threat that Zeff and his friends would be killed. His family despised him, he was being forced into marriage, and every day he heard threats and insults.
And through all of this, he remained kind. He opened up to Pudding, telling her about his pain for the first time in 21 years. He thought about her unhappiness, saw her as a victim just like himself. He believed they might be able to understand each other.
But instead of accepting that trust, she used his vulnerability to humiliate him. No one dictated those words to her. No one wrote her lines for the bedroom scene with Reiju. That was her choice — and her enjoyment.
Sanji has always found it difficult to hold grudges against women. He didn’t hold them against Kalifa or Black Maria. When it comes to women, he is always willing to take the blow himself — physically or emotionally.
Even in Water 7, when no one knew Robin’s motives and she betrayed the crew to go with CP9, he kept trying to save her, guided not only by intuition but also by his personal code: “Remember, Chopper: if a woman lies, a real man forgives her.”
In Dressrosa, he risked his life for Viola, convincing himself she was “good” and “didn’t want this” even before he confirmed it by looking into her mind. From his earliest days in the story — back in Arlong Park — he defended Nami even when she was accused of betraying the crew, aiding a fishman terrorist, and killing Usopp.
Furthermore, he cannot bring himself to harm a woman, even when she threatens not only him but those dearest to him — as when he refused to harm Big Mom through the wedding cake.
So using Sanji’s forgiveness as an argument for Pudding is absurd. His forgiveness doesn’t automatically mean a person deserves it.
Her Love Wasn't Acceptance It Was Attraction to an Image
Pudding only began to show interest in Sanji when he presented himself in an ideal form: strong, handsome, noble. That’s not love — that’s admiration for a finished product.
He bakes a cake better than a hundred chefs, fights better than elite soldiers, exudes confidence. He draws people to him (Bege and Chiffon listened to his plans, Cosette fell for him, and so on). His friends are loyal to him to the death and truly love him.
When he was broken, tearful, and vulnerable — she rejected him.
“But She's Young!”
The problem is not that she's young, but immature. Remember that Mugiwaras were teens almost half of the story? Chopper was 15, Luffy 17, Usopp 17, etc. We can even recall 16 y.old. Vivi's mentality.. Age is not an excuse. Story shows very well that old is not always wise and young not always infantile.
Why a Tragic Childhood Is Not a Free Pass
Oda consistently shows in his stories that the ultimate choice belongs to the individual.
Sanji grew up surrounded by cruelty, yet remained honorable.
The Donquixotes: Doflamingo and Rosinante went through the exact same hell, yet one chose destruction while the other chose salvation.
Robin endured the total destruction of her family and homeland, and without any “anchor” in her life often still chose to spare the lives of others — even enemies. (She saved Igaram, Vivi, Pell, and Luffy when they were strangers to her.)
Pudding made the conscious choice to be cruel.
She didn’t fall in love with the man, but with an image; she didn’t accept his weaknesses, didn’t share his pain. Love is seeing and accepting someone exactly as they are.
Pudding is not a misunderstood victim — she is a character who deliberately caused pain, manipulated, and mocked someone who was kind to her. Her constant swings between desires and deceit point toward a borderline split in personality. Is she an evil after all? No! But she's not a good one.
