#levihan comfort

[wimbledonsoot]

Being queer is shipping eruri for the hurt, and Levihan for the comfort.

[hangenderzoe]

Hange: You're either a smart fella or a fart smella

Levi: ...

Hange: By the looks of it, I'm the smart fella here so

[whxre4hange]

attack on titan characters playing league headcanons

guys im in my final year of my undergrad and i have exams and this is what im doing w my time LMAO

eren (ultimate rage quitter)

eren is the ultimate tryhard. bro mains riven and screams into the group call "i will carry!" he charges into fights like he’s fighting titans, only to get instantly melted. after dying for the fifth time, you can hear him scream into the mike, “i’m not mad, i’m just... passionate! WE GOT THIS GUYS DONT GIVE UP” while furiously typing “ff 15” in chat.

mikasa the overprotective bodyguard

mikasa is the ultimate support, but she’s less about healing and more about throwing daggers at anyone who dares touch eren. if someone tries to gank him, she’ll sprint across the map like a ninja, yelling, “no one touches my eren!” while simultaneously saving him from certain doom… and then getting herself killed in the process.

armin the strategist (and coward)

armin is the brains of the operation, but he spends half the game hiding in a bush, whispering strategies to himself. when he finally decides to engage, he shouts, “guys! let’s flank them!” only for everyone to be dead by the time he finishes his sentence. he’s basically a walking “how not to play” guide.

sasha the snack master

sasha is the adc, but her real focus is on her snack stash. she’s munching on chips while trying to farm minions and will often say things like, “just one more potato chip before i go back!” she ends up feeding because she can’t resist grabbing a snack during team fights. “i’m just… multitasking!”

connie the confused support

connie thinks he’s playing support, but he keeps accidentally stealing kills with his abilities. when everyone yells at him, he responds with a confused, “but i thought we were playing catch!” he’s just trying to help, bless his little heart.

jean's leadership failures

jean wants to be team captain (literally no one cares) and constantly tries to direct everyone like he’s leading a military operation. “okay, guys! we need a five-man engage!” but when eren charges in solo again, jean just facepalms and mutters, “why do i even try?”

marco the cheerleader

marco is the wholesome cheerleader of the group. he’s always encouraging everyone with phrases like, “good job, team! you can do it!” unfortunately, he gets so distracted by his own positivity that he forgets to ward properly and walks straight into a bush full of enemies. “oops! my bad!”

reiner's tanking fail

reiner plays tank but thinks he’s invincible. he charges into fights yelling, “i’m here to save you!” only to get one-shot by an enemy assassin. his teammates are left screaming, “we needed you alive for that!”

ymir's sneaky shenanigans

ymir plays an assassin and loves sneaking around for picks. she’ll shout things like, “i’m going in!” but then accidentally reveals her position by stepping on a ward. when historia asks her what happened, she just shrugs and says, “it was tactical misdirection!”

annie’s solo queue dominance

annie is a solo queue legend who plays mid-lane like it’s her personal arena. she rolls her eyes at her teammates’ antics and mutters things like, “if you all just let me carry…” she has zero patience for anyone who doesn’t understand how to play properly—and she’ll mute them faster than you can say “teamwork.”

bertolt's unexpected support skills

birthcontrol is surprisingly good at support, using his size as an accidental shield for his teammates. when someone asks how he does it, he just says softly, “i’m just… really good at standing still.” and somehow that works....

erwin's confusing speeches

erwin gives motivational speeches before every match that leave everyone more confused than inspired. “remember: victory is not just about winning; it’s about… uh… being brave?” anywyas by the end of it, everyone is just staring blankly at him while eren types in chat: “can we just play already?”

hange's chaotic jungle adventures

hange plays jungle with chaotic energy that keeps everyone on their toes. they dive into fights yelling, “let’s go! science rules!” but often end up accidentally initiating fights they can’t win. then they die spectacularly the end

levi's silent judgment

levi lurks in the background, silently judging everyone while occasionally throwing out sarcastic comments like, “great job feeding.” when asked why he doesn’t play more often, he simply replies with a deadpan stare: "because i don’t want to ruin my kda." and yet somehow still manages to carry every game when he does play

[wingsofhcpe]

we as a fandom need more hange whump in levihan fics, actually

(and I'm willing to provide)

[oktheartist]

So I’ve discovered attack on titan….

[dreamingon-forever]

There's something so endearing about the mundaneness of Levi and Hange constantly spending time sharing tea together. The fact it's been talked about how due to Levi's insomnia he tends to spend his nights talking and just sitting with Hange in their room while they work away on their research late into the night, becoming each other's companion during the late night while everyone else is asleep. No wonder they became so close to each other, they truly were each other's comfort person.

Also, love how in all these official arts Levi is staring at Hange.

[elmundodeflor]

Acuarelas - PARTE 1

Nunca había soñado con Hanji. Onyankopon solía decir que, las personas que se hacen bruma, en el inconsciente se vuelven carne. Y que allí, rebrotando de entre las grietas como margaritas, nos reencontramos. Que vienen a dejarnos un mensaje.

Le parecía injusto, entonces, que Hanji aún no se le hubiera aparecido, ni siquiera para saludarlo de lejos. Que sólo hubiese podido recordarla en pesadillas.

A veces la veía, cubierta en llamaradas rojas, cayendo y cayendo en un infinito del que no podía salvarla. El cielo azul se teñía de gris, empapado por el rastro de humo que dejaba su cuerpo, y él estiraba la mano, inútilmente, por las ventanillas del avión, como si eso sólo hubiera alcanzado.

Había otras noches, las más terribles, en las que las muertes se suscitaban: una tras otra, otra tras una. Las escenas se repetían, — como si de un ciclo eterno se tratase. Como si cada átomo de imagen hubiese quedado grabado tras las retinas, y al caer dormido alguien palpara esos rincones del alma que todavía ardían. Podía escuchar los desgarros de dolor en los tímpanos, los pedidos de auxilio estrujándole el corazón. Él también gritaba, lloraba, hacía fuerzas para respirar, pero los sonidos se le atascaban en las cuerdas vocales. Sólo salían en sollozos recortados cuando despertaba en su habitación.

��Ey. – Onyankopon lo sacude ahora, cuidadoso de no sobresaltarlo. Solía dormir en el cuarto de al lado, por si los alaridos y el sufrimiento se volvían demasiado, y hacía falta atenderlos o calmarlos.

Levi se restriega los ojos, y reconoce la humedad en sus mejillas de inmediato. Las lágrimas se desdibujan hasta las comisuras de sus labios, allí donde se pierden, como el cauce del río que desemboca en el mar.

–Mierda. – escupe entre dientes, y se estira para tomar del vaso de agua en su mesa de luz. – Es ese sueño de nuevo.

Onyankopon asiente. Ya lo sabe. En los tres años que lleva viviendo con Levi, ha llegado a conocerlo como quien conoce a su hermano. Está seguro de que el té le gusta a secas; sin azúcar, sin miel, a lo sumo con limón. Está al tanto, también, de cómo limpiar para no llevarse un coscorrón.

–Es Hanji, ¿no? – pregunta, aunque ya se ve venir la respuesta, y Levi no se lo dice. Esta vez, la tomaba de las mangas para tratar de detenerla. Y entonces, justo cuando creía que iba a hacerlo, que por fin iba a cambiar ese desenlace fatídico, atravesaba la tela de su camisa como si fuera aire.

–Llegué muy tarde. – susurra, casi inaudible. Tiene los músculos tiesos, entumecidos de la angustia. La mirada inconexa, perdida en algún punto del empapelado en la pared. Afuera, cerca de la playa, una tormenta repiquetea en las ventanas, salpica los vidrios con motas gordas.

–Tranquilo. – le asegura Onyankopon, sonriéndole desde la silla de junto al colchón. Registra, porque siempre ha sido un hombre de percepción, que las pesadillas florecen más en los días de lluvia; casi con la misma fuerza con la que suelen alzarse los tallos de entre la tierra. Se convence, porque otra opción no le queda, que los truenos deben de recordarle a Levi, tanto como le recuerdan a él, a los estruendos horrorosos de ese día. Tiene sentido, al fin y al cabo, se explica. Cada estallido es la pisada de otro titán que se acerca. Cada crujir, es el último suspiro de un alma nueva. – Vayamos a la cocina.

Levi lo contempla un segundo, sin ánimos de hablar o moverse. Todavía puede sentir a Hanji; diluyéndose a cuentagotas de entre sus dedos. Piensa que, si estuviera aquí, ella sabría qué hacer para apaciguar sus miedos. Adormecería los gritos con caricias suaves; le besaría el pelo, la frente, el espacio entre las cejas, y lo arrullaría con dulzura. Lo arroparía, firme entre sus brazos, y recitaría palabras de cuna para hacerlo soñar bonito.

–Está bien. – suspira, entonces, y, como puede, se incorpora sobre la cama. Lo cierto es que le duelen los huesos, aún lastimados por los años. Que le duele el pecho. Que le duelen ausencias. Que le duele todo. – Ya sabes dónde está el té.

Los viernes, Jean viene a casa a visitarlo. A veces, Armin es quien lo acompaña; otras son Connie, o Pieck, o Reiner.

Onyankopon prepara una merienda abundante para dos; bizcochos de avena y limón con un té apenas dulce. También se ocupa de dejar bien cortado el césped del patio; justo allí donde ambos se sientan a pintar por un rato.

Hace ya dos años que Jean enseña a Levi lo que sea que sabe de arte. Al principio, había sido Moblit, hacía ya mucho tiempo atrás. Luego él, después de la guerra y por pedido suyo, había decidido seguir y tomar el mando.

Era naturalmente bueno para pintar, Levi, decía Jean. Había comenzado con bosquejos desprolijos en un cuaderno, cuando las reuniones de Erwin lo aburrían más de la cuenta. En cambio, ahora, las líneas finas y garabatos acababan por transformarse en retratos reconocibles y concretos que decoraban la casa. Mike, Isabel, Farlan, Kuchel, Petra; todos tenían algún lugar. Todos sonreían detrás de los marcos.

–Algún día tengo que enseñarle a pintar con acuarelas. – insiste Jean, mordiendo el dorso del pincel, casi pensativo, antes de volver a remojarlo.

Levi chasquea la lengua, y lo mira durante una fracción de segundo. Lleva meses insistiendo con que no lo traten con honoríficos, o de “usted”, por lo menos, pero, realmente, no va a ensañárselas con eso ahora. En su lienzo, la figura de Hanji vuelve a aparecerse de entre las sombras, y, cree, entonces, que eso requiere de toda su atención. Incluso más que como puedan llamarlo o no los niños.

–De acuerdo. – acepta, al fin y al cabo, como quien no quiere la cosa, y su pincel se detiene un momento. Lo cierto es que la ha pintado ya demasiadas veces— más de las que uno es capaz de contar. Y es que tal vez Hanji no se le presente en sueños, pero puede verla en cada parpadeo, grabarla en cada exhalación y latido. Está igual de bella que cuando la perdió; allí, enmascarada en témperas. Tiene el cabello desprolijo, arremolinado en el viento. Su boca está torcida en una sonrisa a medias que apenas le achina los ojos.

Si quisiera, piensa, podría pintarla, también, incluso hasta con la vista ciega. Siendo sincero, la ha inmortalizado ya en su memoria demasiadas noches, cuando aún podía dormir a su lado. Sus manos, las yemas de sus dedos, han recorrido cada uno de sus recovecos; suave, cuidadosamente. Han atrapado bajo sus palmas el lunar junto a sus labios, — la expresión en sus pupilas—, cada minucioso retazo de ella.

–Dicen que pintar con acuarelas, es aprender el arte de dejar ir. – cuenta Jean, después de un rato en silencio. Afuera, en el claro en el jardín, la brisa cálida remueve las hojas de los árboles en un arrullo suave. Permite que el sol atraviese las copas verdes y frondosas, y los envuelva en un manto de ocres y dorados. – Creo que podría hacerle mucho bien, ¿sabe, Capitán?

Levi inspira hondo un segundo. No está muy seguro de quién pudo haber dicho eso, o con qué motivo habría sido, pero no va a ponerse a discutirlo ahora. Cuando comenzó a pintar, acababa de subir a la superficie, luego de años de ser preso de los subsuelos. Flores, las tazas bellas que veía en el mercado, había descubierto que, dibujando, comprendía mucho mejor el mundo que lo rodeaba. Que podía volver inmortal todo aquello que hiciera que su corazón saltara de alegría.

Los retratos llegaron después, con el correr de los meses, o de los años. Por alguna razón, Hanji era quien más se le desparramaba de entre las manos y volcaba en el papel. Había algo espontáneo en ella, — algo fugaz y efímero— que lo hacía querer pintarla, casi de manera inevitable. Tal vez, piensa ahora, era su risa. Alocada, terca, suelta y rebelde. Tal vez, también, era su esencia, — algo salvaje y arrollador, imposible de capturar por mucho tiempo.

Se echa hacia atrás, y, con nostalgia, contempla su trabajo casi terminado en el lienzo. Ahora que la ve, un sentimiento parecido a la angustia le hace agujeros en el pecho, — se le instala en el medio del corazón. Quisiera, por un momento nada más, que pintarla no le trajera este sufrimiento agigantado. Que tenerla de vuelta, aunque sólo fuera en recuerdos, lo hiciera sonreír, y no lo llenara de culpas pesadas, o de miedos infundados.

–Está bien. – contesta, entonces, y Jean lo mira esperanzado. Tiene que admitir que siente a Hanji en la frescura de las olas; entusiastas, e indomables. Que la ve en los cielos morados, o que puede acariciarla en el vaivén de los vientos. Lo que no puede, porque el alma aún le arde, es mencionarla delante de Gabi o de Falco. Soñarla sin despertar empapado de sudor.

“Pintar con acuarelas, es aprender el arte de dejar ir.”, las palabras de Jean resuenan en su cabeza, y se vuelve a verlo, alejándose del cuadro. Quiere que pensar en Hanji no lo ahogue en un dolor venenoso, que lo corroa por dentro. Que las pesadillas punzantes sean fantasías de algodón, livianas, en las que se reencuentran y pueden abrazarse de nuevo.

–Está bien. – repite, con la voz algo ronca, y Jean le sonríe. – Enséñame a pintar con acuarelas.

[sootyfeathers]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Hiding Medical Issues, levihan - Freeform, Fainting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Return to Shiganshina Arc (Shingeki no Kyojin), Love Confessions, First Kiss, Soft Levi Ackerman, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Forehead Kisses Summary:

Hange tries hiding an injury and Levi confronts her before it can get any worse. Neither of them planned to end up kissing.

[authenticleviackerman]

I don't think people realize just how much of a pain in the ass insomnia can be. It's not just not being able to sleep. It's also this. On top of what the net says, I often feel very nauseous to the point where I'd rather not eat anything at all. There's really a reason why Levi's favourite food is bland rice and tea.

[heliocentricsunflower]

In your arms

needed some levihan comfort hehe

Words: 886

_________

It was one of those days that Hange Zoë could just not take it. They had experience in not sleeping for days, sure, but this is different. Firstly, they never had to deal with public opinion, secondly, they weren't burnt out, and thirdly, their self confidence has taken a major hit. Truly, why were they Erwin's successor? They always knew they could never amount to the greatest, but they honestly just feel like the most incompetent commander.

At least they know not to run away from responsibility; their next—and best—choice for the succeeding commander is only twenty. No way they're letting someone that young deal with this. No matter how painful their headache right now is. No matter how blurry their vision is becoming despite having their glasses on; they have to keep pushing forward, even if they start losing their sanity.

It's cold, but putting their coat on would be a hassle, and fuck— they just want to tear down their office. But alas, a knock on the door. One they seem to be familiar with.

Levi, they assume.

"Come in," they instruct, fixing their posture.

Indeed. it's the Captain, and he's brought... tea?

"Thought you might need it. Tea and some company," he says with a sigh, and a desolate-as-ever espression, gently kicking the door closed and locking it.

"Shouldn't you sleep too? I know you're an insomniac, but you should still try," they slump onto their desk, laying on their arms.

"Exactly. I'm the insomniac here. You aren't. Sleep."

"Can't."

"Deal with it tomorrow."

"I can't."

"You can. Go to bed, Glasses."

"I fucking can't, Levi. If I keep delaying the shit I have to do—which I've been doing a fucking lot lately—they're gonna keep piling and piling and, I don't know if you've noticed, but the entire fucking world wants to fucking kill every person in this island, and I can't think of a fucking solution, and our best option is to fucking euthanize ourselves. I—I can't—I can't fucking—"

With every syllable, their heart beats faster; with every word, their hearing gets hazier; with every sentence, breathing gets a little harder.

Levi knows Hange. He knows when they're about to break. And so, he knows how to calm them down.

So he walks towards them. He places the tea on their desk, takes off his coat, places it around them, before finally hugging them and resting his cheek on their shoulder.

That's when he felt tears on Hange's face.

"I'm—I'm so sorry..." they whisper.

"I know you're tired too—I'm sorry... for lashing out like that," they manage to hiccup between labored breaths.

"Don't... apologize. You're going through a lot. I know. "

Hange can feel it. The sting in their eyes. Levi too.

"You... don't have to..."

"You want me to."

"Still—"

"I want to stay."

"But—"

"Like how you stayed with me."

They know what he's talking about.

Oh, how he longs for those lost nights.

Those times were, still hard of course, but much simpler. He misses when Hange would still laugh and joke about dire situations to lighten things up. He misses when they would knock at his door at nights after every comrades' deaths to check up on him. When they would comfort him; when they kept him safe in their arms; when the two of them would talk until the sun rose; when they simply kept each other company through the night; when they fell asleep on the floor and he carried them to sleep on his bed.

He never expected to think this, but he wishes for the time when titans were just that: titans.

The Commander turns sideways on their chair and leans on Levi's body. They're gripping on the sleeve of his polo; he takes the opportunity to lead them to sit on the floor.

They never make a sound when they cry. Or at least, they try not to. This time, they're too tired to do anything but let their tears fall.

"Wanna drink?" Levi brings attention to the cup. They nod slowly.

The warmth of the tea against their lips provides familiar comfort. Levi really does make good tea, they think, but they can't seem to recall if they've tasted this before.

"Chamomile. The one we tried when we went to Marley."

"It's good..."

"Is that so?"

The Commander lowers the cup and exhales.

"You gonna do anything next morning?" they ask him, gently grabbing one of his hands.

"Nothing too important."

They turn to look at his eyes, as if asking him to stay.

"I'll be right here," he places an arm around them.

They feel a tug in their heart and burries their face in his shoulder. They wonder if he feels the smile on their face as they drift swiftly to sleep.

Levi gains a sense of relief and carries the sleeping Hange to his quarters. Carefully, he places them on his bed and removes their glasses and eyepatch. He takes a moment to look at them.

Despite their restful state, stress is still evident on Hange's face; Levi slowly lies next to them and gives a tender kiss on their forehead. Their face seems to have relaxed. He tucks away the hair bothering their cheeks.

"Goodnight, Hange." he lays next to them.

And for tonight, they're safe in his arms.

[phantommaws]

Silly little headcanon that my friend came up with for my fic spurred on by the wedding doodle you ask?

Well, Levi will only let one person in the entire world pick him up without any form of protest; I’m talking that grown man literally acting like a feral cat if he’s picked up and carried by anyone else.

That person in particular? Hange. Levi will only ever let Hange pick him up and carry him around. He likes it, but you’ll never hear him admit it.

[micia-posts-stuff]

- Will you keep watching over me?

- Forever

Made with this Picrew

[giuliadrawsstuff]

reference

[arlertdarling]

❥ INSOMNIA — levi x hange, death mention, s3 spoilers, hurt/comfort, established (ambiguous) relationship, first work posted on tumblr. enjoy!

insomnia is the norm for levi ackerman. always has been for as long as he can remember. back when he first joined the military, he fit right in with all the ptsd-nightmare and survivor-guilt-ridden soldiers in the survey corps; not one person slept well in those barracks, but they all, like levi, learned to live with it.

sometimes, though, it got bad — like the day he lost erwin. he went days, then a week, then more, with nothing but three hours of sleep and the caffeine from his tea to keep him standing on his two feet; still would be, if it wasn’t for these weird herbal remedies that hange made, full of plants and flowers and god knows what else they put in there. he had been cautious at first — as one must be with anything that hange concocts and deems ‘safe to consume’ by their questionable standards — but eventually levi figured he’s better off getting poisoned than risking being too sleep deprived to avoid death by man-eating zombie behemoth.

erwin’s death was hard on hange too; not only losing someone they knew since their cadet days, but being passed down the responsibility of being commander after a man who was quite possibly one of the greatest of his time, if not in history. the weight of wielding the same standing and authoritative power he had, the sheer number of duties and people that were now under hange’s direct care. with each passing day, they felt it sink deeper, bury itself into their shoulders like a poison, a parasite; thick and tightly bound and heavy. it’s not the first time they toss and turn more than they actually get some sleep for an entire night, but it is the first time that their herbs and plants do nothing to help.

maybe it’s the fact they were both erwin’s closest friends, the fact they’re now each other’s closest friends, or maybe it’s just the kind of bizarre experimental solution that only a scientist can come up with and lack enough dignity to try, but one sleepless night, a few weeks after erwin’s death, hange ends up at levi’s door. their fist is poised, ready to knock. they’ve been stood here hesitating for long enough that their wrist has grown tired, dipping and letting their knuckles graze the wood silently.

“what do you want, four-eyes? you’ve been standing there for six whole minutes.”

it’s muffled and exhausted, but hange immediately perks up at levi’s voice through the door. they should have seen it coming, at least half as well as levi had been able to hear them coming, it seems; they never have been good at being discreet.

“can i come in?”

they know levi wouldn’t answer anyway, so they say it less like the question it’s phrased as and more like a statement; a forewarning for their inevitable entry.

they shut the door behind them and lean against it, an awkward grin on their face that’s there more out of habit than politeness; just hange being hange, and like hange, they can’t help making a comment. “rough night?” they say with a chuckle. levi glares, or maybe just looks at them; the shadows under his eyes are so dark, it’s hard to tell if he means for his stare to appear so threatening.

hange rubs the back of their neck sheepishly. “well, that makes two of us then.”

“yeah, i know. you look like shit,” levi says with his usual charm. he’s sitting up now, rubbing his eyes and the bridge of his nose before moving his hand back to lean on both palms. for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, waiting for hange to speak, say a joke or laugh or toss him a cheap nonsensical quip or something — but to levi’s surprise, for once, hange doesn’t say anything, only stares with tired eyes and the remnants of their grin from before.

levi sighs. “come here,” he says, tilting his head in a lazy encouraging motion.

hange’s shoulders relax, doing as they’re told with as little delay as if it had been an order. levi shifts, making some room on the bed; a silent invitation.

“oh! really? can i really just–”

“don’t make me change my mind.”

levi rolls over onto his side, his back facing hange. anyone else might be offended by his indifferent behaviour and blunt responses, but hange sees the vulnerability and compassion in the details he fails to hide, or perhaps leaves behind on purpose: the tender look in his eyes, the caring curve of his eyebrows. either way, hange is climbing into the bed beside him, gingerly nudging themselves closer until their warmth is melting into levi’s own like the sun into the sky.

this is new. this touch, this moment. it’s new to them both, but the comfort it gives makes it feel familiar, and it’s that feeling, that warmth — that promise of someone being there when you wake up in the morning, dreading the day — that lulls them into the sleep that they’ve been missing so much.

insomnia is the norm for levi ackerman, but at least tonight it doesn’t have to be.

[glassesandswords]

Bringing this back for those who don't know that this exists

[this-is-krikkit]

part 2 (not related to part 1)

more angst... some comfort tho!! i'm not a total monster

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë

Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë

Additional Tags: Past Rape/Non-con, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Levi Ackerman Needs a Hug, Victim Blaming, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intimacy, idk how to tag this, They/Them Pronouns for Hange Zoë

Series: Part 2 of love is not a victory march

Summary: "Does that feel good? You wanted this, didn't you? It never does, and he never did. But Levi quickly learns the people who ask him that don't actually care about his answers anyway, so he doesn't bother replying."