Civil War Fanfiction Novels & Stories

“Slavery ended by now. The Civil war ended in eighteen sixty five, slavery was abolished.” “What Civil war? What are you talking about? We’ve had slavery for hundreds of years, and still do.” Bohdan now knew that not only did he come back in time, he had entered a new universe where events were different. In this universe, the civil war never happened, and slavery still existed.

As the legions began tending the wounded and securing the pass, Caelan looked out over the battlefield, the bond humming steadily with Lucien. The first major battle had been won. But the civil war had only just begun. And the forbidden mate stood at the very heart of it.

******************************************************** That night, Kalen had another dream again, after more than a month of sleeping peacefully. He dreamt of himself being a super-secret spy, for the Kingdom of Camelot. He joined a team of professional spies, as they infiltrated the Confederate States of America capital city. They were so good, that they evaded all the advanced country’s detention abilities. They succeeded in their seemingly impossible mission; they assassinated the president of the Confederate States of America. The feat was legendary, but so were its consequences too. Complications came during their escape, as they encountered the Confederate States elite military divis

Her pulse skittered against my chest like a captive bird. “Dante,” she whispered, voice raw. “They took— Ethan—” I heard what she didn’t say. The insult, the treachery baked into family names. I felt it like an arrow. But we were in motion — the night was a tight breath, decisions like knives. We came out into the rain and the chaos thickened. Crawford’s men had learned faster than I liked. We tangled with them — brief, brutal, not the drawn-out war they must’ve expected. We burned a lane and vanished like smoke, bodies falling, men swearing, tires screaming.

“Again, it could be something invented by men to make women think what the men were doing to them was all right, that they were meant to enjoy it.” Undeterred, Mist said, “It talks about how life was like back then, and while it’s true men were the leaders, women were important, too. They had roles they played. This was written about a time called the Civil War, though Sunny figured out it was actually written a couple of hundred years after the war ended. During the Civil War, women helped the men that were fighting. Some of them ran their plantations and farms. Others even fought in the war, disguised as men. And, during the time that this book was written, the author says she’s a business

Cynthia pretended to reach into her shirt pocket for a distress flare, then immediately transformed into a wolf to escape when they relaxed. "She doesn' t even have more flares! We' ve been tricked! " "Chase! " Cynthia gritted her teeth and sprinted in the direction of the forest exit she remembered. As she ran, she drifted back to a memory from her last life. She had just found out she was pregnant and wanted to tell Daniel the good news immediately, but she had overheard that Daniel was the leader of the Rebel Army. She fled and he chased her. Her beloved husband and sister chased her with hundreds of rebels and eventually captured the exhausted Cynthia.

She roared at Sarah, "That lowly creature will never set foot in the Vance family! She dared to seduce Arthur? I will never let her get away with it!" Sarah watched her, a cold satisfaction settling in her bones. Let the hounds tear each other apart, she thought. It’s a perfect ending. The stage is set for a civil war within the Vance empire. Victoria is now determined to block Yvonne’s entry, but Arthur is blinded by his "White Lotus." As Chloe Bishop walks through the door, she sees Victoria screaming about "lowly creatures." Will Chloe add fuel to the fire, or will she focus solely on getting the dying Sarah to safety?

I envied him for that. That was me too, intentionally standing before a cannon during the Crimean War, 1854 — as it roared to life. The shot hit me full in the chest, tore me apart, threw me across the mud. I felt the bones shatter, the world fade to black… and then I woke up. Again. Whole. And that was me in the American Civil War, 1863, fighting on both sides at different times. I was a hired blade by then — a soldier without a cause. Countries paid me to fight for them, to kill, to win wars. But what I really wanted was to die.

I was glad to have survived, to have my family beside me all through this times of turmoil, to have a smile which relinquishes destruction, to be free at last from the domineering weevil of evil always lurking around every step I had taken for a long time. I could sense the smile on Papa’s face, we had been victorious, we had escaped this scene. At least, we had taken in a brief oxygen of relief. What would innovate such joy except the feeling of being free at last. For faith that we were secure from the impediments of a civil war even for a mili second. We stepped closer to the river with joy written all over our faces, the only thing on our minds as to row the canoes to the town.

Carefully controlled. “Won’t the war get worse now?” I pressed gently. “Yes.” The honesty in that single word made my stomach twist. I set the letter down carefully on the bedside table. “Are you going to do anything?” I asked. That made him shift. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. His face looked… older. Not physically. But spiritually. “It’s a civil war, Lena,” he said quietly. “It’s not an external threat I can fight off at the border. It’s their own wolves tearing each other apart.”