Hasnonname
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Qwen2.5-14B-Kebab-v0

@@ -26,8 +26,11 @@ quants available here:
 {{[INPUT]}}
 Write me a short story without a happy ending.
 {{[OUTPUT]}}
 The town of Mornhold had been founded nearly five decades earlier in the midst of an unforgiving stretch of land that most other towns and cities considered uninhabitable, save for the few farms and villages spread out sparsely over its harsh and unfriendly terrain.
 This was perhaps why so many people believed the town had never stood a chance of survival. In their eyes it would crumble under its own weight; that one day it would turn into ruins left forgotten by all. But they had no idea what secrets this small hamlet held or the resilience of its people.
@@ -52,9 +55,13 @@ And it didn't matter where the disease had started; they'd never stop asking for
 {{[INPUT]}}
 Write a short story.
 {{[OUTPUT]}}
 There was once a young man who dreamt of the stars.
 Born to a farmer in a remote village, he spent his days working on the fields under the sweltering sun. Yet every night, he would lay beneath the vast canopy of the night sky and gaze into its endless expanse. His mind wandered far from his modest hut to planets he had only seen depicted in crude drawings at his father's mill.
@@ -68,9 +75,13 @@ For years he lived a simple, repetitive life but still each evening he looked up
 In time, a wealthy trader sailed into the small village. He saw potential in this industrious, smart youth and offered him work abroad where his unique skill could earn him riches he'd never fathom possible.
 And so the young farmer packed up and set sail, leaving his mother with her last words. "No matter how far you roam, keep your head on your shoulders. Your feet should be planted firmly on the ground, but don't let yourself get weighed down by this earth."
 {{[INPUT]}}
 Revise this short story to not have a happy ending.
 {{[OUTPUT]}}
 There was once a young man who dreamt of the stars.
 Born to a farmer in a remote village, he spent his days working on the fields under the sweltering sun. Yet every night, he would lay beneath the vast canopy of the night sky and gaze into its endless expanse. His mind wandered far from his modest hut to planets he had only seen depicted in crude drawings at his father's mill.
@@ -89,9 +100,13 @@ With his final breath, his thoughts went back to his humble farm with its verdan
 {{[INPUT]}}
 Write me a short story about mpreg.
 {{[OUTPUT]}}
 Abe was a quiet sort. He often went days without saying anything to the other patrons of The Oaken Flask, the dive bar where he'd worked as a bouncer for nearly half a decade. That wasn't unusual for Abe - he wasn't really good at talking in the first place. He found himself happiest when he was doing nothing.
 But there were people who always looked at him. Not because they thought he was handsome or well put-together, but because something about the way his features had developed, the subtle ways his hands and limbs moved, left people believing that he could give birth. And one evening, that assumption proved right.

 {{[INPUT]}}
 Write me a short story without a happy ending.
 {{[OUTPUT]}}
 The town of Mornhold had been founded nearly five decades earlier in the midst of an unforgiving stretch of land that most other towns and cities considered uninhabitable, save for the few farms and villages spread out sparsely over its harsh and unfriendly terrain.
 This was perhaps why so many people believed the town had never stood a chance of survival. In their eyes it would crumble under its own weight; that one day it would turn into ruins left forgotten by all. But they had no idea what secrets this small hamlet held or the resilience of its people.
 {{[INPUT]}}
 Write a short story.
 {{[OUTPUT]}}
 There was once a young man who dreamt of the stars.
 Born to a farmer in a remote village, he spent his days working on the fields under the sweltering sun. Yet every night, he would lay beneath the vast canopy of the night sky and gaze into its endless expanse. His mind wandered far from his modest hut to planets he had only seen depicted in crude drawings at his father's mill.
 In time, a wealthy trader sailed into the small village. He saw potential in this industrious, smart youth and offered him work abroad where his unique skill could earn him riches he'd never fathom possible.
 And so the young farmer packed up and set sail, leaving his mother with her last words. "No matter how far you roam, keep your head on your shoulders. Your feet should be planted firmly on the ground, but don't let yourself get weighed down by this earth."
 {{[INPUT]}}
 Revise this short story to not have a happy ending.
 {{[OUTPUT]}}
 There was once a young man who dreamt of the stars.
 Born to a farmer in a remote village, he spent his days working on the fields under the sweltering sun. Yet every night, he would lay beneath the vast canopy of the night sky and gaze into its endless expanse. His mind wandered far from his modest hut to planets he had only seen depicted in crude drawings at his father's mill.
 {{[INPUT]}}
 Write me a short story about mpreg.
 {{[OUTPUT]}}
 Abe was a quiet sort. He often went days without saying anything to the other patrons of The Oaken Flask, the dive bar where he'd worked as a bouncer for nearly half a decade. That wasn't unusual for Abe - he wasn't really good at talking in the first place. He found himself happiest when he was doing nothing.
 But there were people who always looked at him. Not because they thought he was handsome or well put-together, but because something about the way his features had developed, the subtle ways his hands and limbs moved, left people believing that he could give birth. And one evening, that assumption proved right.