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I would look into the Diamine brand because they're good quality, available in a huge variety of colors in large swathes of the world, and are neither a sub-par budget brand nor priced as a luxury brand. (It's an open secret that some luxury brands are just Diamine in a cooler bottle.) If the fountain pen you are going with has a fine (narrow) tip, avoid brighter colors as it's like trying to read highlighter. The broader the tip, the more legible bright colors are because the ink is applied more thickly. I'm a big fan of Diamine Soft Mint but I use broad nibs. Diamine sells colors with glitter ("shimmer") in them, which are a bit more expensive and also more finicky to actually use as the glitter tends to clog.

My single most favorite ink on earth is Iroshizuku Ku Jaku (Peacock Green), but it's $20 to $30 a bottle depending on where you are so it's a bit pricier.

Robert Oster Fire on Fire is so violently orange that I had to screw around with filters to get the photo to even remotely resemble what it looks like to the eye

(this is rough draft for Glory in the Thunder )

[Serriden looked ahead and realized that the high building before them which somehow managed to be even more spectacularly excessive] than everything else around it must have been the Hall of Wisdom. It was worked over in triangles, and the triangles had triangles, and within these were more triangles, and within those was nothing but pure madness. Panic washed over her. “Are we really just walking up to that massive palace unannounced?” She had learned a little Pagadam, but not enough to explain their incredibly specific problem to a door warden.

Barsamin looked to the blue sky between the crowding towers. “A god announces himself.”

Serriden was struck with reverent awe, which was the only possible reason she was blushing furiously. This lasted until the first raindrop fell heavy and cold upon her veiled head. Thunder cracked, the heavens broke open, children shrieked and fine ladies ran for shelter; a cry of wonder ran up and down every street of Sintamani as they turned to mud.

“So we’re just going to turn up soaking wet?” called Serriden over the torrential downpour. She held her pole carefully so that the lantern would not swing as she walked, its candle safe beneath a tiny tin roof.

“You looked at your umbrella and your candle,” Barsamin reminded her, “and you made your choice.”

The Hall of Wisdom was guarded by women in impractical gold-shining armor wielding impractical gold-shining maces whose faces were all painted blue. They came out to the edge of the stairs, shielding their eyes to better see the sudden shift in the sky, but then they saw something yet more strange. Barsamin ascended the sacred steps aglow with the sheen of lightning, his leaf-green cloak upon the wind, his eyes sparking behind his glasses as he returned their wonderment with a stern gaze and a stern voice: “The God of the Storm seeks an audience.” Serriden came up behind him with a nervous smile, dripping.

This is a rough draft of a future scene in Glory in the Thunder. Serriden baby you know what this man is like

iroshizuku ajisai in a pilot falcon