Medieval Insults Novels & Stories

"What? Not my fault you're dumb and you're bringing a diary into your bag at school. You know everyone hated you so it should be you keeping one eye open for your haters." "As if you aren't hated by everyone as well? Illegitimate daughter of the senator. Home wrecker and a shame to the well respected conservative family!" I chuckled hearing his classic and signature insult to me for a very long time. And then I observed myself... Before, I'd instantly flame up once I hear that from him. And most likely, I'd still have the very same reaction if I hear that from someone else. But it's him. And somehow, that insult has watered down to an inside joke between us two.

One person in the crowd, unsteadily drunk, began a slurring denunciation of the knights and the rest of the crowd joined in. “Death to the despised. Death to the murderers. Death to the Knights.” Sigwulf grunted sourly and nudged his horse into a walk again with Vance beside him as the actors bowed before the crowd that were still chanting their slogans of disgust for the long vanished militant order and applauding the mediocre actors.

She refused to move an inch away from the elevator. “Come out, you promiscuous little whore!” someone yelled from the crowd. “If I don't blind one of your eyes today, you won't know how much I despise you!” “Before sleeping with senior Kelvin, she should have known what was coming for her!” “Hello, netizens, look who we have here! The notorious homewrecker, Meera!” . . . More outrageous insults and name calling were thrown at her like garbage. Causing Meera to shake with fury and dread.

Mason said, taking his time to eye both Madelyn and I, slowly taking his eyes up and down our bodies. Melody slapped the back of his head, resulting in him letting out a loud welp. "What was that for?" he whined, turning to face his sister. "For sexualizing my friends." Melody said, "And it's not washing your dirty laundry; it is washing your dirty linen in public. For a smart ass, you sure are a dimwit sometimes." "I am no dimwit." Mason claimed, puffing out his chest playfully. "Oh sorry, my bad. You're no dimwit, you are a nitwit." Melody insulted.

And then— the world erupted. Flashes exploded in rapid bursts. Shutters clicked like gunfire. Voices rose, sharp and merciless. “Whore!” “Slut!” “Prince Aric’s plaything!” The words struck hard, meant to wound, meant to break. But I didn’t flinch. Not this time. I had endured too much to crumble now. Their insults slid over me like cold rain, leaving only a faint sting behind. And somewhere deep inside, I felt something unexpected.

"Wretch? Bastard? Bastard? Trashy? You can say those words or more, I don't care. If there's one thing I have to thank my family for, it's for raising me by saying so many ugly things to me, they don't hurt me anymore. >> Rather, I see it as a desperation to win a lost dispute. Because when there are no more arguments to defend oneself, insult is the only way out. But, you have a way out; hand over what doesn't belong to you" I say smiling and that makes the man in front of me look at me with anger. "Malnacida!"

I further taunted him. "YOU! YOU IMP! DID YOU JUST CALL ME FAT!?" His grubby face turned beet-red as he fumed in his wrath, but I was not perturbed by his raging anger at all. In fact, I relished in the fact that I could throw around insults at him without a care of the world. These days, throwing around insults had become a privilege to me all on its own. Lord Vilavelt beside me was staring at the entire conundrum in muted silence. He didn't seem at all disturbed by the bedlam as well. So I took the liberty to throw in some more insults.

His eyes bled silver. “Insult my sister again,” he said, quiet, terrible, “…and you’ll leave without your tongue.” The duke bowed his head so fast it looked painful. No one had ever stood between me and an insult before. I didn’t know where to put the feeling that gave me. ⸻

But wait, why is he angry? “Olive said he insulted Her Highness.” Oriana frowned. “I-Insulted? Will that mere sin really leads to death?” She asked and bit her lower lip. “No. It’s not if he just insulted some nobles. But he insulted the Ruler, Oriana. That’s a big sin. So stop crying for Pete’s sake!” He snapped angrily, raising his voice and Oriana shrunk back in fear. His expression was scary.

I bowed slightly. “Gentlemen, excuse me for not sharing your proclivities, but I prefer battles and women. As a true noble, I also promise not to tell anyone about your close association with boy-lovers.” I put an emphasis on the words. “Close association." With a cheeky grin. With a delay of half a minute, they finally got it. “How dare you insult us, you lout!” the thin one said, outraged. Aha! That’s who had spoken first. Well, I have no pity for him.