When Did Yhwach Eyes Become A Key Plot Device?

I got curious about this phrase after spotting it as a cheeky caption under an old political cartoon, and dug into how it grew out of serious business into a playful line. The phrase 'the ayes have it' — meaning the majority vote carries — is the original, rooted in parliamentary procedure for centuries. That is the straight historical backbone: you hear 'ayes' in legislative halls long before anyone started punning on eyes. The playful twist 'the eyes have it' shows up when writers and cartoonists turned literal vision into wordplay. In practice it crops up in Victorian and Edwardian periodicals, stage comedy, and captioned cartoons where someone’s gaze or a spectacle is the punchline. Lexicographers note this kind of switch from homophone to pun is a common path: formal phrase first, then humorous echoes in popular culture. I love that little evolution — language giving itself a wink — and it makes me smile every time I see the gag used in films or photo captions.

The character designs in anime often emphasize larger eyes for a variety of artistic and emotional reasons. One main aspect is how these oversized eyes allow for a much broader range of expression. When I watch shows like 'Your Name' or 'My Hero Academia', I notice that the characters’ exaggerated features, particularly their eyes, help convey emotions more vividly. Whether it’s sparkly, bright eyes full of hope, or larger, droopy ones that signify sadness, these designs connect deeply with the audience. Another reason behind the stylization can be traced back to anime’s roots in manga. Many manga artists began by borrowing techniques from Western cartoons that featured larger eyes to appeal aesthetically. This aspect allows for more detail and focus on what the character is feeling internally, which often resonates with viewers on a personal level. The enchanting glimmer in anime eyes can represent innocence, wonder, or even power, depending on the context. It’s fascinating how something so simple as eye size can create connections and evoke a myriad of emotions, adding layers to storytelling that wouldn’t be achieved with more realistic proportions. Moreover, the cultural differences in art styles also play a significant role. In many Western animations, there tends to be a focus on realistic proportions, while in Japan, the trend has leaned more towards stylization, which is part of the charm of anime. Having said that, even within anime, there’s a spectrum of styles—from the ultra-realistic designs in 'Attack on Titan' to the more exaggerated features in 'One Piece'. Each approach carries its own narrative weight and mood, ultimately enriching the storytelling experience in different ways. I appreciate how these design choices lead to a profound connection with characters, making them unforgettable parts of our lives. In essence, those big, expressive eyes serve more than just a visual purpose. They are a bridge connecting the characters' inner worlds to ours, allowing for a more immersive experience that makes watching anime such a delightful journey. Exciting stuff, right?

Whenever I watch close-ups of her on screen, Elizabeth Taylor's eyes feel like a private conversation you're accidentally invited to. There's the color — that famous violet-blue that photographers and gossip columns loved to tease out — but color alone doesn't explain it. Her eyes had a big, slightly almond shape and the kind of deep-set lashes and brows that framed them like dark velvet. Add the contrast with her porcelain skin and raven hair, and the eyes pop in a way that's almost cinematic on its own. Beyond anatomy, her acting gave those eyes purpose. She used them as punctuation: a slow look could carry sarcasm, longing, or danger without a single line. Makeup and lighting in films like 'Cleopatra' and 'Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?' amplified the effect — heavy kohl, strategic rim lighting, and tight framing pulled you into the irises. Combine all that with the cultural myth around her (diamonds, drama, iconic style) and you get something more than pretty — an unforgettable presence. Try pausing on a still from her films and you’ll see layers: biology, craft, and persona working together.

There's something about Elizabeth Taylor on film that still catches me every time — not just the legend, but those eyes that seemed to change with the light. When I look at photos from 'Cleopatra' or her red carpet moments, what really made her violet-blue eyes sing were cool, reflective jewels: big white diamonds and platinum settings created a bright, mirror-like sparkle that pulled focus to her gaze. Diamonds framed her eyes by reflecting back the camera lights, so chandelier earrings and solitaire studs did more than decorate — they brightened the whole face. On the other hand, she also leaned into colored stones that echoed or contrasted with her eye color. Deep sapphires and amethysts echoed the cooler tones in her irises, while rich emeralds offered a lush contrast that made any hint of green pop. Pearls — like the famous 'La Peregrina' she wore sometimes — softened the look and gave a warm, classic glow that made her eye color seem softer on film. Metal tone mattered too: platinum and white gold read as cool and crisp on camera, yellow gold warmed the complexion and could bring out different undertones in her eyes. If you want that Taylor effect now, think big but balanced: face-framing earrings, a collar or high necklace to lift the face, and gems that either echo or contrast your eye tones under bright light. I still catch myself studying those magazine spreads for tip details every few months.

My take is a mix of film-geek nitpicking and plain admiration. Elizabeth Taylor's eyes were famously striking — people still debate whether they were truly 'violet' or just a magical trick of genetics plus cinema. From everything I've read and seen, the core fact is that her eye color was natural, a deep blue-gray with a rare quality that photographers, makeup artists, and lighting happily exaggerated. In practical terms, contact lenses that change color weren't mainstream or comfortable in the 1950s and 1960s. Studios relied on kohl, mascara, specially mixed eye shadows, and clever lighting to make her peepers pop in films like 'Cleopatra' and 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?'. Close-up lenses, soft focus filters, and the film stock itself could all create a jewel-like sheen. So while she may have used corrective lenses off-camera or for sharpness, the cinematic 'effect' most fans notice comes from makeup, cinematography, and natural eye pigment — not a wardrobe of colored contacts. I still get a little giddy every time I watch those classic close-ups; her eyes feel like a small miracle on screen.

Man, the first time I heard 'Your Eyes Only' by ENHYPEN, I was floored by how raw and intimate the lyrics felt. It's like they took all those chaotic emotions of young love—the possessiveness, the vulnerability, the desperation to be someone's entire world—and distilled them into a single track. The way the lyrics repeat 'Only your eyes, only your touch' gives me chills every time; it’s almost like a mantra of obsession. I read somewhere that the song draws from the webtoon 'Dark Moon: The Blood Altar,' which ties into their vampire concept. That makes so much sense! The lyrics mirror the intensity of a supernatural bond, where love isn’t just affection—it’s a lifeline. The members have also mentioned how they channeled their own experiences of longing and devotion during recordings. It’s wild how a song can feel so personal yet universal at the same time. I’ve had it on loop for weeks, and I’m *still* finding new layers to unpack.

When I first dove into 'Your Eyes Only' by Enhypen, the lyrics immediately struck me as a blend of dreamy romance and introspective yearning. The way they describe devotion—'only you in my eyes'—feels like classic K-pop romantic fantasy, but there's a darker, almost obsessive edge to it that reminds me of vampire lore (which makes sense given their 'Dark Moon' universe). The production leans into synth-heavy, atmospheric sounds, amplifying that moody, cinematic vibe. Honestly, it’s hard to pin down to just one genre—it’s like if you mashed up a coming-of-age drama soundtrack with a supernatural love story. The lyrics oscillate between tender and intense, which fits Enhypen’s signature style of blending youthful emotions with darker themes. I’d call it 'dark romantic pop' with a dash of fantasy, but fans might argue it’s more nuanced than that. Either way, it’s got that addictive quality where you want to dissect every line.

I still get a little lump in my throat whenever that opening line of 'The Light Behind Your Eyes' hits—there’s something naked and honest in those lyrics that feels very Gerard Way to me. From everything I've dug up in old interviews, fan forums, and the liner notes people have scanned over the years, the lyrical credit for that song goes to Gerard Way, with the music usually credited to My Chemical Romance as a group (so Ray Toro, Frank Iero, Mikey Way, and Gerard all get band-style music credit depending on the release). In short: Gerard is the primary lyricist, while the band collectively shapes the musical backbone—exact credits can vary by edition, but Gerard’s voice is the one writing the words. I say this as someone who’s spent too many late nights tracing song credits, flipping through record booklets, and refreshing performing-rights databases like ASCAP and BMI—old habits from when I used to write tiny zines and obsess over who actually wrote what. If you want the ironclad proof, check the physical or digital booklet that came with the release you own; if you’re hunting for official, searchable confirmation, ASCAP, BMI, or the local performing rights society for your country will list the registered writers. Fans have also uploaded scans of liner notes from deluxe editions that typically show songwriting credits; those are great if you don’t own a physical copy. On a more personal note, this song has always felt like Gerard reaching into something raw—so even if the music is a team effort, the lyrics carry his fingerprints. I’ve sung them in the car on rainy mornings and in shouting, imperfect harmonies at house parties, and each time the phrasing and the sharp little images feel very much like the same lyricist who penned 'Helena' or 'I’m Not Okay (I Promise)'. If you want a neat follow-up, try searching for interviews from the era of the album or any singles that featured that track; sometimes the band talks about who brought which parts to the writing sessions, and that gives a cool behind-the-scenes vibe. Either way, Gerard Way’s lyrical voice is the compass here, and the rest of the band brought the map to life—perfect for humming along on a gloomy afternoon.