The sound of a hammer belonging to a pistol echoed in the empty intersection of a street in a deserted town.

"You have till the count of three, before I blow your fucking brains out onto the pavement to give me what I want bitch." An angry man said, holding a fistful of hair on a woman who was on her knees below him.

"Better tell us where you hid the stash we saw earlier before Gizz over here gives you your last makeover." Another man said, kneeling down to look at her square in the face.

The woman, in her early thirties was beaten to a pulp. She sported two black eyes, her left eye was so swollen it covered half her cheek. Dirt and blood caked her face so much you could barely tell she was caucasian under all that grime. She spat blood onto the man's face, which earned her an immediate yank by Gizz who then punched her in in the side of the head for the twelfth time. She groaned softly, her throat barely able to convey the shockwaves of pain coursing through her head from the impact.

A gunshot rang out and the two men jumped, turning to look over at the source to find a girl no older than 13 holding a handgun pointed at the sky. She leveled the pistol at Gizz, her hands shaking and unsteady.

Gizz immediately pulled the woman up so she stood limply in front of him, feet dragged on the ground barely responsive. He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her close, pushing a knife into her cheek. The other man pulled out his pistol, aiming it at the preteen.

"You don't wanna do that little kid." He said.

"Yeah, drop the gun else I gut your mom." Gizz pressed the knife closer in on the mom's cheek, drawing some blood. The kid wavered, blinking a few times before lowering the gun. The man walked closer to the child, leveling his weapon at her small frame.

"Good, now you both die." He said, pulling the trigger. The gunshot rang in the air, the woman somehow gasping in shock and rage despite her numb senses. Her rage subsided however, when she saw that it was the man who fall over, and not the child. A square in the forehead hole exploded from him. His gun fired, but the shot went wide missing the girl.

Gizz yelped, looking towards the source of the gunshot. All he saw was a dark alleyway filled to the brim with garbage bags and debris.

"Hey!" He yelled, toward the alleyway. "Better not do anything stupid or the woman dies!" Gizz heard the sound of a echoing metal behind him and whipped his head around. There, baseball bat in hand was someone dressed in a hoodie, with a baseball cap covering their eyes and a bandana over most of their face. Gizz could see a wicked smile on their lips. The thug kept clapping the bat against their hand with a bored expression. He knew random muggers and looters but none of them dressed like this. No, this was a specific style that was reminiscent of a faction. A faction from New York. 'Was that a Rioter? From Manhattan?' He thought, surprised.

"Better back up punk." Gizz said to the baseball bat holder.

A loud burst of fire lit up the area to Gizz's right. Turning, Gizz saw a figure dressed head to toe in thick garments reminiscent of a hazmat suit and a gas mask that had a ventilator to an oxygen tank. That oxygen tank was also fitted next to what appeared to be a napalm tank, which the figure used to expel a cloud of flame in an intimidating fashion above their head. 'What is a cleaner doing here? Don't these two hate each other? Why are they together?' He thought a little worried.

An arrow flew by Gizz's head, missing by mere inches. The direction it came from showed a yellow hooded archer that had fashioned quarantine tape and hazard signs as makeshift clothes and armor. The quiver on their back had arrows that rattled against each other, and the glare of the light on their bow as they drew another arrow and aimed it at Gizz made him avert his gaze. In that brief moment, he swore he saw the bowman wink at him. 'Wait, aren't these the crazy Outcasts from DC?' Gizz was starting to get confused, his mind beginning to daze at the different factions staring at him.

Another sound came from a window above, the unmistakable sound of groaning wood as the window was forced open. Looking up Gizz saw a jet black fully armored soldier with a bulky backpack. A drone buzzed next to the soldier, a green glow shone from it with a white diamond emblazoned on it's side. 'That one I have no idea, but that can't be good.' He was even more worried now that he didn't recognize who this soldier belonged to.

A heavy boot footfall to Gizz's left gave sight to a person in a bright orange jacket with a black vest with a large white 'X' spray painted over it. A swat helmet adorned their head, and they hefted an LMG in their hands. The newcomer's outfit was bulky and clad in multiple layers of armor. 'The hell? A Riker?' Gizz thought. The Riker had their sleeves rolled up, revealing an arsenal of tattoos that crawled up their arms.

"Hey little birdie." A voice cooed from behind him. Gizz swung around, to see a white and black clad tactical soldier, donning a swat helmet and a giant black shield that was upright blocking most of their body. The soldier was nearly the opposite in color scheme of the one in the window above Gizz. Their voice was muffled by the helmet and gas mask they wore, but leveled an Uzi with a red dot sight at Gizz. 'That's LMB!' His heart dropping into the pit of his stomach. He had at the very least heard of a lot of bad things about the Last Man Battalion.

A sloshing sound came from someone with a military vest and a black bandanna wrapped around their face. They held an assault rifle that had a tube mounted to it that connected to a canister that was hooked on horizontally on their hips. There was a hodgepodge of military boots, belt, and headset on this individual that could only mean one thing. 'Great, a True Son too?' Gizz thought, incredulous that the situation could get any more fucked up than it already was. Oh, but it did.

A loud mechanical sound exploded from next to the True Son. An RC vehicle drove from out of the corner, accompanied by a person dressed in a bulletproof vest, and a baseball cap worn on top a gas mask that covered their face. There were green splotches randomly spray painted all over this individual, and they held a remote controller from the RC in their hand. 'The hell is a little car gonna do with… oh.' Gizz finished the thought when he looked down to see about ten bricks of C4 haphazardly taped to it. He didn't recognize this one, but he had heard of a chaotic group in DC similar to the Rioters. What were they called? Lions? Chimps? Gators? Hyenas?

Eight people encircled around Gizz, who swung about repeatedly telling them to back off.

"Any of you freaks make a move and the woman dies!" He dug the blade closer to her throat, holding onto her for dear life.

"A move like this?" Through the thickness of some dust, a red circle glowed like the devil's eye. It was attached to the arm of a petite frame. A woman stepped toward Gizz, her body covered in ammo pouches, grenades, wires, and armor. Across a shoulder strap of her large backpack, three glowing orange circles from watches hung limply from it. She carried a modified G36C, barrel still smoking lightly.

She smiled, leveling the rifle at Gizz, who in turn pushed the knife harder into the woman's throat.

"Don't do it! I'll kill her!" He yelled in desperation. All around him, eyes stared at him like predators. Sharp gazes pierced his mental will, making his knees begin to shake unconsciously. The woman laughed. She laughed hard. So hard, she lowered the rifle, and slapped her knees with a gloved hand as she bellowed. A few of the others chuckled and snorted under their breaths as well, making Gizz uncomfortable.

"I'll do it! Don't you test me!"

"Don't you understand asshole? If you do it, you're dead." The soldier with the black diamond drone said from above.

"And if you don't, you're also dead. Funny isn't it?" The Hyena said, howling in a few intimidating screeches before laughing.

Gizz didn't get to reply, the Rogue Division agent shot him square in the head and with pinpoint precision fired another round in his shoulder blasting it away from the woman within a millisecond of each other. She took the moment he looked away to down him in two accurate shots. He fell to the ground, life passed in a moment and the woman collapsed to a heap next to him.

They all circled in on the woman, the little girl ran to her, holding out her hands defensively. The Rioter mocked fear, while the True Son held up their hands pretending to surrender to the kid. The beaten woman, finally got enough strength to open her unswollen eye at the Division Agent. Pain flowed through her body back in forth in debilitating waves. She managed to sit up, the girl standing next to her looked around her warily at the crowd.

"Why… did…. you...save...us?" She whispered between breaths, struggling to hold herself up. The Rogue Agent leaned closer, her weapon stowed on her back already.

"Because. I need you and your niece to fix the shit that we've got ourselves into." She said, leaning back with her arms crossed.

The woman on the ground blinked in shock. 'How did she know she's my niece and not my daughter?' She thought in disbelief. Her breathing became more erratic as worry and anxiety pooled inside her. The Rogue held her hands up and shook them in a non-threatening way.

"Yes, I know who you both are. No, I'm not going to hurt you. We are not going to hurt you." She gestured to the rest of them who nodded and huffed in agreement. "We're actually here to keep you safe, from your little suicide mission love."

The woman gaped, mustering what strength she had left to shake her head. "No… I-"

"You think you're keeping Savannah Shaw safe by running away with her alone from her mother!?" The Agent yelled, cutting her off. The group around her uncharacteristically fell silent. Even the Rioter and Hyena didn't make a move.

"Emeline is delusional." The Outcast among them finally said, squatting down to be eye level with the woman and Savannah. "I thought what your mother was doing was noble. Was justice. But all she wants is vengeance. She doesn't care who gets hurt. Not even you." Savannah's eyes teared up.

"Shut up! You don't know my mother!" Savannah cried. The Outcast's eyes were grim behind their gas mask, somehow conveying sadness underneath all that rubber.

"Maybe not. But you've got the cure running in your blood little one." The Rogue said, placing a hand on Savannah's shoulder. "I aim to get you somewhere safe. Everyone here does. A place where someone with the know-how could save the world from the Dollar Flu."

Savannah took a step back, looking to her battered aunt for guidance. The woman stared right back at her niece, doubt and worry coursing through her mind like fireworks let loose. She didn't know what to do, but she knew that they wouldn't make it much longer. At worst, she could get back to fighting strength and escape with Savannah from this ridiculous group of would be friends. How did they all get along with each other anyway?

After a moment, the woman extended her hand out to the Agent.

"You got yourselves a deal." The Rogue smiled, before taking her hand and lifting her up to her feet. There was applause and cheers among the group. "Secure the area, we're leaving in two." The Agent said briskly, swinging her backpack off her back and reaching around inside before pulling out a worn first aid kit case.

"Where are we headed?" The aunt asked as the Agent began administering first aid to her. The agent continued her work, not making eye contact with the aunt.

"New York." She said. "Back to where this all started."

Thanks for reading! Here's how the Self Insert will work.

There are 8 slots available. Once a faction has been taken, I'll mark it off on my profile, but I'll pm you if there's any discrepancies there. Each slot takes one of The Division factions predominant in both 1 and 2. So currently that's the four factions from both games. Rioters, Rikers, Cleaners, and LMB from 1 and Hyenas, Outcasts, True Sons, and Black Tusk from 2. Send me a PM answering the following questions:

Character Name:

Character Physical Description: (Be sure to describe age, height, weight, predominant features on the body like tattoos or scars, hair color, eye color, piercings, etc.)

Character Apparel: (What are they wearing, how is it decorated? You don't have to describe weapons here, that will be assigned to you via Class )

Character Linguistics: (What languages can they speak, also any terms or phrases they might use often. Think of how Bugs Bunny is known for the line "What's up Doc?" or what words you find yourself using often)

Character Personality Traits: (Describe them in a nutshell. The more you give, the more I can stay attuned with what you like. Otherwise, I'll be adapting other traits on there. Try to add negative traits as well.)

Character History: (What was their past like? What led up to the events of DC or New York?)

Character Motivations: (Why do they want to keep pushing forward to another day?)

Character Faction:

Character Class: (Each Faction works a little bit different as far as classes go. The class is the symbol you normally see above their heads, and determines the archetype they are. You've got Rushers, Engineers, Medics, Snipers, etc. You can either pick one, multiple, or all of them. Have fun here)

Disclaimer: It should be dreadfully obvious I don't anything from the Tom Clancy's "The Division" universe. None of this is for profit, and is purely for recreational purposes.

And with that, let's have some real fun!