If the way Vimes grumbles through red tape while a dragon is literally crowning kings made you laugh, you’ll love the wry, world-ending antics in Good Omens. Like the Watch trying to keep Ankh-Morpork from combusting while the Elucidated Brethren summon doom, an angel and a demon team up to manage an apocalypse tangled in paperwork, prophecies, and human absurdity. The jokes land with the same sly precision you enjoyed when Carrot earnestly enforces the law-by-the-book in a city that uses it as doorstops.

You liked how the Watch sifted clues about a summoned dragon and a would-be king while pounding Ankh-Morpork’s streets, from the Shades to the Palace—so try Rivers of London. Probationary constable Peter Grant is pulled into a murder case that turns out to be very not-normal, much like Vimes realizing the crimes point to sorcery and coup. Expect quirky mentors (think Lady Sybil’s expertise, but applied to river spirits), officialdom colliding with magic, and footwork that feels like Carrot’s relentless patrols—only in modern London.

If you loved the Watch’s chaotic chemistry—Vimes’s weary grit, Colon and Nobby’s shambolic competence, and Carrot’s earnestness—then Kings of the Wyld delivers that found-crew magic. A retired mercenary band reassembles for a desperate rescue, and their camaraderie crackles with the kind of sharp, affectionate banter you get in the Watch House at 3 a.m. As with Vimes rallying his mismatched squad to face a flaming tyrant, this crew proves that a messy ensemble with heart can still save the day.

Enjoyed Vetinari’s quiet manipulations, the guilds’ self-interest, and the coup that plopped a dragon on the throne? The Goblin Emperor plunges you into court where every smile hides a blade. Like Vimes learning when to salute and when to push back, Maia must navigate ritual, assassinations, and patronage to hold a kingdom together. It’s the same thrill you felt when the Watch unmasked the Brethren—political machinations unfurling in rooms where a single misstep could set the whole city ablaze.

If the send-up of fantasy clichés tickled you—from a literal secret society (the Elucidated Brethren) to a dragon used as political theater—The Dark Lord of Derkholm gleefully tears down the cardboard sets. Just as Ankh-Morpork’s ‘epic’ crisis is propped up by bunglers and spin, this world’s grand quests are manufactured tourism, and the people forced to play along fight back. Expect the same cheeky deconstruction you enjoyed when Lady Sybil’s swamp dragons and Errol deflate the grandeur of ‘noble dragon’ myths.