it appears in the first chapter of the potential longfic where Rhys gets kidnapped and badly tormented by bandits:

It had been brutal to wake up and go to bed each day with the sheets next to him cold, the mattress too light without the weight he’d grown used to. His dreams had been tormented by that last, final picture of Rhys, captured frozen in time in the security system’s camera. Looking over his shoulder, just an agonizing sliver of his face available. The thought that that could be the last he ever saw of his boyfriend’s face woke him from every scrap of sleep he managed to snatch from his pain and paranoia, leaving him a state staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom as if the flat shadows there held the balm to his suffering, the answers to where the hell Rhys was and, more importantly, who had taken him. What they had done to him.

But this morning, he’d woke from the horrific dreams that burned so bad he could feel it in his scar to the ECHO on his nightstand blaring.

The team he’d designated to comb Pandora for signs of Rhys’ had come up with something.

Also the BL3 speculative Rhysothy/Rhack/Jackothy fic where Tim and Rhys are working for Atlas on Promethea but are tempted by the AI remnants Rhys has clung onto:

Tim sees the ring from the very first time Rhys’ shakes his hand and welcomes him aboard Atlas.

He notices it idly, the way he notices the strands of hair on Rhys’ forehead that seem both unplanned and errant, the asymmetrical stripe of his pants, or the sharp intelligent curve of Rhys’ brow. Pieces of a whole new opportunity for him put together in the form of a lithe man who grins and welcomes him with little hesitation despite the undeniable face he still wears.

He feels something slightly cold against his palm and breaks eye contact with Rhys ever so briefly to look down at their joined hands, and that when he sees it for the first time—a silver band, inlaid with something circular and intricate and Tim swears, softly glowing blue, though perhaps that’s only in the cool light of the Atlas facility.

“It’s super great to have you on the team, Timothy,” Rhys brings his attention back up with the name, and Tim smiles, because it has been so long since he’s heard his name on anyone’s lips but his own.

There’s also this small fic with Jaxen and his parents that idk if I’ll finish, but here:

There was something oddly comforting about the cool, manufactured air that kissed Jaxen’s lips as soon as he exited the transport into the massive, echoing hangar.

Maybe it was just because the air on Tantalus was scorching and difficult and sometimes full of more sand than oxygen. Or maybe it was because Jaxen had spent eighteen years of his life breathing nothing but the re-circulated air humming through Helios and even if felt cold and artificial to others it breathed the warm feeling of home through the young omega’s body.

His parents hadn’t known that he was coming, and they hadn’t accidentally figured it out if the still screen of his ECHOcomm was any indication.

Lastly, an old mob!AU fic: 

He and Rhys had spent the last several weeks carefully combing through and decrypting the majority of his father’s old files, scouring his computer and any errant drives they could find for information that the former boss may have hidden that may prove useful to consolidating and spreading Rhys’ power and influence. Rhys did his fair share, but the omega often went to bed earlier than his bodyguard, leaving Jack awake, trusting him to share anything interesting that he found in his father’s locked databases the next morning.

Jack swore this would be the only time he would break Rhys’ trust.

For the things he had found in a hidden file labeled “Suitors” held something that had sent shivers of  horror and rage up the usually unflappable man’s spine. Waves of disgust and anger had twisted deep into his stomach, filling him with a pained, anxious energy that eventually drove him out into the cold with the resolute pressure of his pistols strapped beneath his coat.