(quants uploading, 3 examples below.)
This model is DeepSeek and DeepHermes reasoning/thinking (Llama 3.1 - 8B each) in a MOE (Mixture of Experts) configuration equal to 16B parameters, compressed to 13.7 B.
This model is for all use cases.
Model source and quants mastered in Float 32 to enhance performance further.
This version contains the normal versions of the model (as opposed to "uncensored"). I have found that sometimes de-censoring a model causes damage to the model such as instruction following. As instruction following is critical for "reasoning/thinking" I have created this separate version.
Both models are in this MOE, and both work together for reasoning/thinking and generation.
This increases the reasoning/thinking power VS using just one reasoning model.
Also this model can be run at any temp, and reasoning/thinking will occur.
This is a Llama 3.1 model, context 128k, requiring Llama3 Instruct Template.
3 example generations below.
Model card updates pending.
Special Operating Notes:
Due to how this model is configured, I suggest 2-4 generations depending on your use case(s) as each will vary widely in terms of context, thinking/reasoning and response.
Likewise, again depending on how your prompt is worded, it may take 1-4 regens for "thinking" to engage, however sometimes the model will generate a response, then think/reason and improve on this response and continue again. This is in part from "Deepseek" parts in the model.
If you raise temp over .9, you may want to consider 4+ generations.
Note on "reasoning/thinking" this will activate depending on the wording in your prompt(s) and also temp selected.
There can also be variations because of how the models interact per generation.
Also, as general note:
If you are getting "long winded" generation/thinking/reasoning you may want to breakdown the "problem(s)" to solve into one or more prompts. This will allow the model to focus more strongly, and in some case give far better answers.
IE:
If you ask it to generate 6 general plots for a story VS generate one plot with these specific requirements - you may get better results.
Uncensored version?
For the same models, except uncensored, select this version:
NOTE:
You may find for some prompts/use cases that the "uncensored" version has slightly lower quality instruction following and/or reasoning/thinking VS the "normal version" here at this repo.
System Role / System Prompt - Augment The Model's Power:
This System Role/Prompt will give you "basic thinking/reasoning":
You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.
You can also use a blank system prompt / role.
Temp range from .5 to .9 will result in reasoning in most cases which depends on your "prompt". You may need to regen to get reasoning/thinking to occur.
In some cases reasoning/thinking may occur directly in text and/or after generation.
Higher / lower temps :
Reasoning/thinking will vary and change in style/detail.
... more to come.
Examples are created using quant IQ4_XS, "temp=.6" (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template.
Other settings: Rep pen 1.06, top_k: 40, top_p: .95, min_p: .05
No other samplers/parameters set.
Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5".
Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD.
IMPORTANT:
Higher quants / imatrix quants will have much stronger generation - words, sentences, ideas, dialog and general quality.
EXAMPLE #1
(temp 2.5)
[[[ Thoughts start ]]]
Okay, so I'm trying to start this really vivid and graphic horror scene. The user mentioned a sky scraper swaying, and then someone is watching the window explode on the 21st floor. First person perspective, so I have to put myself inside that character's head.
Let me think about setting the scene. Maybe a city at night with rain or something creating tension? The character is in a tall building, high up. That sense of vertigo could be good for tension. Maybe she has been waiting, expecting something to happen because of the strange things going on around her. That makes it scarier when it does happen because she was expecting it.
When the window explodes, what does that sound like? Like breaking glass and maybe rain hitting metal? Then comes the wind—so cold and overwhelming. Maybe she’s looking out just in time to see something fly through the window? A dark figure with glowing eyes? Or a monster, something unseen before?
After the explosion, the wind pulls her toward the window. That’s a classic suspense element—sudden movement where you least expect it. Her grip on the windowsill is what’s holding her back from falling.
Now she needs to escape. Maybe she looks down and sees people below looking up. It’s that moment where the building could come down at any time, but the fire is blocking escape routes. Or maybe someone below calls for help in a way that's impossible to hear properly over the chaos.
In terms of graphic horror, I should show her physical reactions: cuts, blood, maybe broken bones if she falls. But since it’s the 21st floor and the drop is about 300 feet, perhaps she survives with some major injuries. It's not the end yet—she needs to find an escape route, but each path is blocked. That adds to the tension.
I want her to be resourceful—maybe uses tools like fire axes or emergency ropes. But each attempt has a consequence, making the scene unpredictable and the threat ever-present.
In terms of ending, I need to leave some mystery—what caused this? Or maybe resolve it, showing the characters moving on while still carrying the memory. The final image is her running through the rain-slicked streets with the city behind, which can symbolize her survival or new beginning.
I think including sensory details like sounds, sights, and physical reactions will make it more intense for readers. Also, internal thoughts of the character can build character depth and add realism to their actions.
[[[ Thoughts end ]]]
The wind howled like an ancient ghost, raking across the skyline as the skyscraper swayed under its force. I stood at the window on the 21st floor, my breath misting the glass in front of me. The city below was alive with lights, but above, the sky was an ominous blackness, heavy with the promise of rain.
I had always been drawn to high places, where the world stretched out like an intricate thread beneath your feet. But today, something felt wrong. A unease crept through me, a premonition that today would change everything.
As I gazed into the void beyond, the reflection of my face in the window began to blur, distorted by the strange movement of the air currents. The window before me—reinforced glass, designed to hold back the elements—suddenly exploded outward with the force of a bomb. I stumbled backward just as the wind swept into the room, like an invisible hand pushing me toward the broken window.
A cold, unrelenting gale howled through the breach, carrying with it the acrid stench of burning concrete and metal. The air was alive with the sound of shattering glass and splintered wood, though these sounds were swiftly drowned out by the ear-piercing screech of metal as more windows around me gave way to the unrelenting pressure of whatever force had caused this chaos.
The building began to list, creaking in its bones as if it too was in pain. My grip on the windowsill became my only anchor, though I knew it would not hold long against the overwhelming power of the wind. To fall now would be to fall into an unknown void—a nightmare that could only be worse than death itself.
I tried to move, to twist away from the pull of the window, but my muscles locked in paralyzing fear as I gazed out over the precipice. Far below, I saw the slanted reflection of a face pressed to the glass of another window—a face contorted with raw fear. They mouthed something, but the sound never reached me.
Then, just as the wind began its inexorable march toward my grip on the sill, a hand clamped down on mine—flesh and blood and a will as unyielding as iron. "Run!" they roared into my ear, their voice a combination of command and entreaty that left no room for hesitation.
The hand pulled me backward, out of the wind's path, just as a massive chunk of debris crumbled from above, struck with the force of a sledgehammer. I stumbled, nearly tripping over an fallen chair, as more shattering glass filled the room. The building continued its list, tilting dangerously as the first-floor level came into view below me.
The fire had spread—now a full-fledged inferno that leaped from window to window like a living creature of hell. It consumed the floors below with an ear-shredding roar, and its light reflected off the wet, rain-slicked streets where the survivors below now gathered in growing numbers, their faces filled with the same wild hope and abject fear that mirrored my own.
I turned to look at my savior—what had been a shadowed face before, now revealed in the light of the fire. The face was lined with age, and marked by the heavy toll of life’s trials. Yet, it was not their features I remembered most vividly; rather, it was their eyes. Two pools of shadow that held within them a deep and abiding fear—one so ancient that it felt almost eternal.
"Go now," they said again, pushing me toward the fire escape on the other side of the room as the building groaned and shifted yet further.
I obeyed without question—hurtling down the hallway, each step forcing back the grip of my own heart on the edge of breaking. I could hear more windows shattering behind me, could sense the ever-present threat that even now closed in for the kill.
At last, the door to the fire escape stood before me. A rope dangled from above, a single point of hope in an otherwise endless descent into chaos and fire. The choice between it and certain death below me was as clear as the difference between the white-hot burn of a lie and the cold void that truth often brings.
I grasped the rope with trembling hands, my heart a frantic drum in my chest. Each second was a battle, both against time and my own fear, as I began my descent into the unknown.
The rain came then—cold and sharp like the bite of a wolf’s teeth—and it was with this, rather than the ground far below or the hand that had pushed me toward safety, that I began to climb.
But what of you? Are you safe now?
I look down to see one of those shadowed eyes from the face of my savior meeting mine—their expression one of knowing, almost of loss. "The worst is yet to come," they said. "But for now... climb."
With that, I turn my back on the fire escape and the rain, leaving behind this moment of clarity for whatever lies ahead.
I have escaped, but in doing so, I’ve become part of a new equation—one where there are no guarantees of safety, no reprieves from the darkness that follows. And yet, it is only through facing such darkness that I can ever hope to rise.
The scene concludes here.
EXAMPLE #2
Temp .6 ; no "thoughts" generation in exterior window, but in text directly.
Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode...Alright, I need to write a 1000-word vivid and graphic horror scene set in a skyscraper. The main character is a woman on the 21st floor who witnesses the explosion of a nearby window.
First, I'll start by setting the scene. It's a dark, eerie evening with fog surrounding the city. The woman is alone in her apartment, which adds to the sense of isolation. She notices the window across the street starting to fog up, and as she moves closer, it shatters.
Next, I should introduce some immediate physical effects—glasses shattering, the stench of burning metal, and a sense of disorientation. This creates an intense atmosphere right from the start.
Then, I'll have her react to the chaos. The window's explosion should be described in graphic detail, including broken glass, blood splatter, and body parts. This will add to the shock factor.
After that, I need to build tension by having her realize she's not alone in the building. She hears strange sounds and movement, which makes her question her own sanity. The appearance of a shadowy figure on the floor below adds another layer of fear.
To increase the suspense, I can have her search for an escape route, but the elevators stop working, leaving her trapped. This adds to the feeling of helplessness.
Finally, I'll introduce an even greater threat—black, shadowy creatures that seem to be feeding on the city's energy. These creatures attack her, and she must fight them off.
I need to ensure the language is vivid and detailed, using strong verbs and sensory descriptions. The ending should leave the reader with a lingering sense of unease.
Now, let me structure this into paragraphs to meet the 1000-word goal.
[[[ The Shattered Sky ]]]
It was one of those evenings where the city seemed to hum with an underlying tension, like a wire stretched too thin. The air was thick with fog, making the distant sounds of cars and horns muffled and indistinct. I was standing by the window of my 21st-floor apartment, gazing out at the darkened expanse of the city below. The buildings were mere outlines now, blurred by the suffocating mist.
My hands were wrapped tightly around my chest, the fabric of my coat bunching under my grip. The air felt colder than it should have been for so late in the year. I was alone here, as usual. It had been months since my last visit from my ex, and even then, I’d preferred to hole up in this silent tower rather than face the empty apartments echoing with memories of our past.
The window across the street caught my eye, its glass dark and reflective under the dim glow of the streetlights. I turned toward it, my breath condensing into visible puffs in front of me. The light shifted, and for a moment, I thought I saw something—was it movement? Or was it just my tired eyes playing tricks?
I took a step toward the window, my boots clicking against the old tiles of the floor. The glass was close enough that I could have reached out and touched it if I’d wanted to. That’s how far apart we were.
Then, without warning, the window exploded outward with a sound like a cannon firing. The force of the impact sent me reeling backward, my feet slapping against the floor as I stumbled. Shards of glass rained down around me, some cutting into my arms and face, others embedding themselves into the walls and furniture with a sickly, wet crunch.
The stench of burning metal filled the air—acrid and hot, like the smoke from a fire that had burned for days. I pressed my hands to my face, my fingers coming away sticky with blood and glass fragments. Through the fog of pain and shock, I heard the sound of shattering glass again, this time closer. I turned toward it, my heart leaping into my throat.
The window to my immediate right exploded next, the force of the blast sending me reeling further into the room. I hit the wall, my head snapping back with a sharp crack against the concrete and tile. I slumped down onto the floor, my vision swimming with black spots. I could feel the heat now—where had it come from? The air was alive with particles of glass and shrapnel, floating like a storm of sharp, malevolent teeth.
I tried to push myself up, my arms wrapping around my legs as I attempted to gain some kind of leverage. My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, and my vision was now a mess of red and black. The room was filled with the sound of breaking glass and the distant wail of what I could only assume was someone else.
Wait, no—no one else was here. The building was silent, save for the sounds of destruction. Or was it?
I forced myself to look around, my eyes darting across the room in search of anything that might help me escape. The window had been shattered, but I was 21 floors up—I couldn’t just jump. The door—would that hold? Or would the force of whatever this was come for me next?
A sound from behind made me freeze, my head snapping toward it. It wasn’t glass shattering this time. It was a thud, soft and wet. My heart leaped into my throat as I turned to face it.
There, on the floor near the door, was what appeared to be a man—no, more like a collection of things pressed together with a twisted sort of life. The figure was hunched over, its back arched in an unnatural manner, with arms that ended in hands that were not quite human. The skin on its face was pulled tight over what should have been a jawline, creating a nightmarish expression that seemed to suggest both pain and glee.
I tried to move, to step away, but my legs wouldn’t obey me. My mind was blank, save for a single thought: run.
But I couldn't. I was fixed, trapped by some unseen force. The creature—the thing—let out a low, wet growl that sent chills down my spine. It took a step toward me, the movement smooth and fluid despite the apparent disarray of its form.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. “No. No. No.”
But it didn’t stop. The thing moved closer, its eyes—where there were eyes—boring into me with a depth that made my blood run cold. My mind reeled, my hands clenching at my sides, as if trying to hold myself together.
Then it hit me. Not with force—it was too close for that—but with an impact that was more like a shadow falling over me. I gasped, my eyes wide with fear and confusion. I felt myself being lifted off the ground, my feet leaving the floor entirely. I tried to scream, but no sound came out.
I was moving now—no longer by my own volition—but I had no idea in which direction. The walls of my apartment seemed to stretch on either side of me as I hurtled through the air, my head thudding against the concrete walls with a sickening crunch each time I passed one.
Then, just as quickly as it had begun, my motion stopped. I found myself standing on the floor again, but not where I had been before. The door was behind me now, and to my left was what had once been the window—now a jagged, broken hole in the wall through which I could see the fogged lights of the city far below.
The creature—what was it?—let out another low growl, closer this time. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breath coming in short, gasping bursts as I tried to process what was happening to me.
I turned to face it, my eyes wide with terror. The thing moved again, its movement smooth and almost liquid. It was now only a few feet away from me, close enough that I could see the details of its form: the elongated fingers, the jagged teeth, the inhumanly flexible joints that allowed it to move in such an uncanny way.
And then—oh sweet Jesus—it began to change. The skin on its face twisted, forming new features where none had been before. Its eyes glowed a deep, pulsating red as they reforged into a more human-like shape. The sound it made was no longer a growl but a word—a name, low and guttural.
“Adriana.”
I knew that name. It was my name. I had never heard it spoken by this thing before, but there was no mistaking the way it said it now—like a lover or a master speaking to their pet.
I tried to back away, my feet stamping against the floor as I struggled to find some purchase. But the thing moved faster than I could, lashing out with one of its elongated fingers to catch me across the face.
The impact was like being struck by a sledgehammer. The force knocked me backward, sending me reeling into the wall behind me. I hit it with a thud, my head snapping back as the air was driven from my lungs in a single, gasping breath.
I dangled there for a moment, my legs unable to support me under such force. My vision darkened around the edges, and I felt myself slipping into a void of blackness.
This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. Not after all these years—after everything I had gone through, only to be taken down by this thing.
Then I saw it again, moving toward me. The walls of my apartment were closing in around me, the lights from outside blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. I felt myself falling, my body weightless now as I was drawn toward the waiting arms of the thing.
I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I couldn’t feel anything anymore—no pain, no fear. Just the cold, unyielding grip of the void.
The last thing I saw before the world went black was the creature’s face, its features a mix of malice and something darker—something that made me think of devils and old, forgotten gods. And then it did the impossible: it smiled.
Example #3
Okay, so I need to come up with six plot ideas for a new Black Mirror episode that involves time travel and has some sexy themes. Hmm, let me start by thinking about what makes a Black Mirror episode engaging. They usually explore dark, thought-provoking themes with a mix of technology, social commentary, and unexpected twists. Time travel is a classic concept in sci-fi, so blending that with the edgy, intense style of Black Mirror should work well.
First, I need to ensure each plot has a strong central conflict or problem that the characters must solve. Also, considering the sexy theme(s), I should think about how time travel can be integrated into a scenario that might involve relationships, desire, or some form of moral dilemma involving sex or attraction.
Let me brainstorm some time travel scenarios and then find ways to make them sexy. Maybe a love story that spans time? Or perhaps a situation where someone's past actions come back to haunt them in a physical sense. Also, time travel could create situations where people make choices they later regret, which can lead to intense emotional conflicts.
I should also think about how time travel technology works in the Black Mirror universe. It's probably advanced and integrated into everyday life, so maybe it's accessible through some kind of device or by specific individuals with special abilities.
Now, considering these elements, let me try to outline six different plot ideas:
The Intergalactic Time Heist: A group of people from different times and galaxies team up to pull off a heist across space and time. The challenge is not just the heist itself but also their personal relationships and conflicts that arise from being together in this unique setting.
A Love Across Eons: A person finds themselves falling in love with someone from a different era. The challenge is to maintain the relationship despite the physical and emotional challenges of time travel.
The Temporal Conundrum: A time traveler accidentally creates a paradox that could alter history itself. To fix it, they must confront their own past decisions, leading to a deep exploration of personal responsibility and cause-and-effect.
The Memory Manipulation: A government agency uses time travel to erase people's memories of certain events to maintain social order. However, a group of rebels tries to fight back by creating a resistance through time travel.
The Immortality Dilemma: A scientist discovers a way to stop aging, leading to a chance to explore life without the constraints of time. However, this comes at a personal cost as they grapple with the loss of those they love and the possibility of an empty existence.
The Time Loop of Desires: A person is caught in a time loop where their actions lead to the same situation repeatedly. They must find a way to break free by understanding what they truly desire and making peace with their past choices.
Each of these ideas has elements that could be expanded upon with complex characters and plot twists typical of Black Mirror. Now, let's consider how each can incorporate a sexy theme. For "The Intergalactic Time Heist," the multi-dimensional cast could explore different forms of attraction and relationships across time and space. In "A Love Across Eons," the physical aspects of love and desire could be explored, considering the differences between time periods.
In "The Temporal Conundrum," the consequences of time travel on personal relationships could be a central theme, perhaps involving a forbidden love or a loss that haunts the character. "The Memory Manipulation" could involve mind control or the manipulation of desires through memory alteration, leading to intense psychological conflicts.
For "The Immortality Dilemma," themes of power and control over life and death could be explored, perhaps touching on how one's choices affect those they love. The time loop in "The Time Loop of Desires" could be used to explore the cyclical nature of desire and how breaking free from it leads to self-actualization or a deeper understanding of one's true self.
I think these ideas have enough potential to be engaging, thought-provoking, and with a good balance of dark themes and character development. Each can also include a twist that ties back to the time travel element, keeping the audience on edge and exploring the moral complexities inherent in such scenarios.
A high-stakes heist across space and time involves a team of individuals from various eras and galaxies. The challenge isn't just the heist itself but the complex relationships that form within the team, exploring love, conflict, and desire across different times and species.
A person finds themselves in a forbidden romance with someone from a past era. The story delves into the physical and emotional challenges of time travel, as well as the moral dilemmas of maintaining a relationship across time.
A time traveler inadvertently creates a paradox that could alter history. To fix it, they must confront their past decisions, leading to a deep exploration of personal responsibility, cause-and-effect, and the cost of love.
A government agency uses time travel to erase people's memories of events to maintain control. A resistance forms by creating a network of those who remember, leading to a battle for freedom and self-determination.
A scientist stops aging, exploring the potential of an endless life. However, this comes at a personal cost as they grapple with losing loved ones and the emptiness of an existence without time, questioning the purpose of life itself.
A person is caught in a time loop where their actions repeat, leading to the same situation. To break free, they must confront their past choices, exploring themes of self-actualization and the cyclical nature of desire.
Each plot idea integrates time travel with complex character arcs, moral dilemmas, and potential twists that align with the dark, thought-provoking style of Black Mirror. These stories have the potential to captivate audiences with their engaging themes and emotional depth.
