A/N: A new story? Sort of. I've had this in the works for a long while, now. Over a year, I think. I've only recently started to write the serious version, but my stories are always subject to change and edits. :) This is completely self indulgent. I LOVE Jurassic Park, and really wanted an Izuku that'd survived among the residents of Isla Sorna. *snickers* We're just going to ignore that the island couldn't really support that kind of life for three hundred years, okay?

A huge thanks to everyone on my discord server for helping keep me motivated with this one! I've actually got a fair bit of fanart, despite the fact that I'm posting this only now. ^^ To keep things from being spoiled too much, I'll add the fanart into the next chapter (Or where applicable).

Here's the cover for this story, thank you again HiddenAppreciation for the amazing artwork!

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Year: 2361, Location: Musutafu, Japan

Midoriya Izuku was having a bad day. He was usually having bad days, but today was particularly bad. He'd been heading home from school, as per usual, when the sounds of a villain fight drew his attention. He'd always been a huge hero nerd, and where there were villains, there'd surely be heroes.

"I wonder which hero will show up to the scene?!" He muttered excitedly under his breath—a horrible habit he'd had most of his life. Excitement bubbled up within him when he recognized Edgeshot, one of the top heroes. It was really rare for Izuku to get the opportunity to see one of his fights in person. He also recognized Nutra—a rescue hero with a really cool Quirk that let her control smoke—and Subzero—another hero who had a Quirk that let him rapidly drop the temperature in a six foot radius around him to subzero temperatures. They were all heroes that Izuku had only seen through a screen before, and he had his notebook out instantly, a hum of excitement in his veins.

His green eyes widened in awe as Edgeshot dodged a beam shot by the villain. It hit some kind of rubble nearby, causing it to vanish.

"Oh, wow! Some kind of disintegration Quirk?! Or maybe teleportation, because there doesn't seem to be much—if any—residue, which would imply that the matter was simply moved elsewhere, which is really cool because that means that his Quirk is really rare, and—" His muttering was cut off when a young child—likely no older than five or six—bumped into him.

"I'm sorry!" The two apologized at the same time. Izuku was quick to recognize the gleam in the boy's eye.

"You like heroes?" He asked the kid, whose expression lit up.

"Yeah! They're so cool!" He gushed. "I'm gonna be one when I grow up! I've got a great shield Quirk! I can be a rescue hero like Nutra and save people!"

Izuku grinned. "You can do it! That sounds like an amazing Quirk!"

"You take notes?" The kid eyed his notebook.

"Yeah!" He grinned. "I... Don't have a Quirk." He admitted. "But I still wanna be a hero!"

"You can do it, mister!" The kid grinned up at him with a gap-toothed smile, eyes sparkling with the kind of innocence Izuku hadn't had since he was four.

Izuku smiled, about to say something, when his gut started to roll. Years of experience following hero fights had taught him to keep a close eye on the fight. Izuku knew firsthand how quickly things could turn dangerous for the crowds—even with several heroes nearby.

That was why he noticed before anyone else did. The hero had mistakenly positioned himself in front of a broken mirror shard. The villain geared up to fire, and Izuku realized just a moment too late that the mirror was angled perfectly. With the Quirk seemingly working in rays of light, there was a high chance that that mirror would reflect the Quirk.

He only had a moment to shove the child roughly aside before the hero dodged the beam, which reflected off the mirror and sped towards him.

"NO!" The kid cried out, a shimmering blue shield popping up in front of Izuku. He took a moment—however brief that fraction of a second might have been—to admire such an incredible Quirk. But it wasn't able to reflect or block the beam of light. Instead, the villain's Quirk warped somehow; the orange color of the beam changing to something off-white.

That was the only thing he was able to see before a sharp pain overcame him as he was engulfed in the Quirk's light.

The last thing Midoriya Izuku saw before blacking out was Edgeshot's terrified face.

~~~

Year: 236?, Location: Isla Sorna

Bright green eyes flew open as Izuku gathered his bearings. It'd been a long while since he'd dreamed of the day he was sent to this island. He let out a sigh as he sat up, a questioning hissing chirp had him looking over towards his packmate, Ace.

"I'm okay." He scratched the velociraptor under the chin. "Just..." He made a trilling hissing sound that rose in pitch towards the end—a raptor term that meant something like melancholy.

She huffed and shook her head before settling back down, leaving Izuku to his thoughts. It'd probably been about three years since then, but it was hard to be sure when there was nothing but the blooming of flowers to show the changing of the seasons.

He'd been more than surprised when he'd awoken from that Quirk on an island of dinosaurs. For a long while, he had been terrified that the Quirk had sent him back in time—thankfully, it hadn't. There was an old pre-Quirk research facility on the island that confirmed that he was at least in an era of humanity.

Not that it mattered when humanity had abandoned this island in favor of survival—not a bad idea, in Izuku's opinion. But he was unfortunately stuck there, so he'd made the most of what he had.

He eyed the raptor that was curled protectively at his side. She was a dark greenish-grey color with deep forest green stripes running from her nose all the way down her tail. He liked to think that she matched his hair, but Izuku's hair was so dirty by this point that it looked black.

"Ace, come on." He gently nudged the apex predator. He made a chirping sound to convey his impatience.

Izuku had learned the meanings of her different chirps, whistles, hisses, and growls, and he was pretty sure that she had been learning how to decipher his words, too. To make things easier, Izuku often mimicked her noises, much to Ace's amusement.

She gave a low whining growl as he nudged her. He smirked and poked her nose, causing her to bare her razor sharp fangs at him. "Don't be a grouch." He shook his head. "Or I'll hunt without you."

She was still for a moment as he stood before cracking open a greenish gold eye. She made a questioning chirp that meant prey.

"Yep. Prey." He nodded, repeating the chirp back to her. She huffed and staggered to her feet. Izuku chuckled a little—Ace had never been a morning person.

Their pack was small—just the two of them. He'd found Ace injured and abandoned about a year ago, and had tended to her injuries and healed her up. She'd stuck with him ever since. It was nice not to be alone, anymore.

They ventured out of the small cavern that they'd been using for the last week. He idly noted that they'd need to rotate nests again—staying in one nest for too long with a pack as small as theirs was asking for trouble, so Izuku had several nests set up across the island. There were more than thirty locations—ranging from caves and hollowed out trees to abandoned trucks and even what he assumed was some kind of bomb shelter.

The morning was crisp and a few sparse clouds reflected the light of the sun that had yet to peak over the horizon. He stretched and yawned as Ace shook herself like a dog. He sent her a smile as she moved her head in an arc—her equivalent of rolling her eyes at him.

She angled herself so her side was facing him and gave an impatient chirp. With a grin, he climbed onto her back. The first time he'd suggested it, she'd vehemently refused—raptors were very proud, after all. But once she realized how slow he was—though he liked to think he was much faster than he used to be—she allowed it, if only because she refused to let him die because he couldn't outrun a predator.

Now it was second nature for them. They hunted together and had become an undefeatable team. Well, maybe not undefeatable, but with the very hard-earned ability of tree climbing—a skill that Ace was rather proud of—they were damn near uncatchable.

Izuku grinned as the jungle he called home whipped around them. The familiar gait of Ace's footfalls no longer jarred him as they had the first few times he'd ridden. Now he moved with her. They were one.

He didn't need to say anything as they spotted their prey. A low chirp from her was confirmed by a low trill from him and he wasted no time in grabbing a low-hanging branch and swinging from her back, landing neatly and silently on the branch of said tree. He climbed with speed and grace borne of many hard falls and leapt from one tree branch to another until he was in the strike zone.

He watched with a sharp gaze as Ace gave the distinct roar of a velociraptor—a sound that instinctively sent a trill of fear down the spine of anyone who heard it. From any other raptor, Izuku would've felt the instinctive terror from the call, but Ace was pack. Her cry didn't frighten him... it excited him.

Every raptor's call was unique, and Izuku easily picked up the deviation in her next roar. The prey was nearly in the strike zone. He grinned when he saw the young parasaurolophus. That would feed them for a few days for sure.

It gave out an alarmed call when it realized it was too far from its herd, but Ace was skilled in corralling prey. Izuku grinned as he silently pulled out his knife—made from the tooth of the spinosaurus—and leapt from the tree.

He landed skillfully on the back of the parasaurolophus, grasping the horn on the back of its head for balance as it bucked and screeched in panic. Izuku wasted no time in digging his knife into its throat, killing it swiftly. It gave a final cry as it fell and lay still.

Ace gave a happy chirp as Izuku returned it with one of his own, cleaning off his knife on the grass before hooking it back onto his leather belt. It'd taken him a while to figure out how to make leather, but it wasn't that hard once he got the hang of it.

Ace wasted no time in tearing into the carcass, and Izuku grinned as he reached in and grabbed some of the more tender pieces of meat. Years ago, he would've balked at the thought, but he was far too used to eating meat raw. Fire was dangerous in this land, and predators would come sniffing around at the smoke and light.

Adjusting to raw meat was safer—even if it'd nearly killed him the first few months. He licked his lips as Ace chirped disapprovingly at him. She never liked how messy he got when they ate.

Their lunch finished, they stored the carcass in a nearby nest to eat later. Ace then dragged him to a nearby stream to wash up. He quickly scrubbed the blood from his forearms and face, fingers tracing the innumerable scars that littered his arms and body.

Izuku glanced at his reflection. He'd changed so much over these last few years. Gone, was the scrawny weak-assed kid who was only good at running. He was still admittedly short, likely due to an imbalanced diet, but his skin was fairly tan and covered with all kinds of scars. Some were from raptors, a couple from a T-Rex, and two were from the Spinosaurus. He had scars from other predators and mishaps, of course, but those were among the worst.

One of his nastiest scars was one that ran from the left corner of his lip down across his jaw and off the side of his neck. He'd barely survived that one, which was a gift from a raptor's claw.

He kept his hair at about shoulder-length (mostly because he didn't trust himself to cut it any shorter, and practicality was what was important, not image). He'd filled out with lean muscles from his new and highly active lifestyle. He had to laugh a little at himself. What would his mother think if she could see him right now? Or Kacchan? His teachers?

Had they even cared that he'd vanished? Had they looked for him? In a sense, this island was a paradise of its own to him. Sure, he'd much rather not have to worry about migration patterns and cold fronts and territorial boundaries and question if he was going to live to see the next winter, but... but here, Quirkless wasn't a thing. There was no Quirk or Quirkless, no young or old... just... survival.

And if Izuku was being honest, he enjoyed that many of the herbivores now recognized him as a predator. They eyed him the same way they eyed Ace, which felt insanely good. And Ace saw him as pack—precious family that helped one another survive. He honestly didn't know what he'd do without her.

Ace chirped questioningly at him as he idly tossed a rock across the river, watching as it skipped a few times, startling a few compsognathus on the other bank.

He didn't dawdle by the water's edge after he'd had a drink—even the waters could be dangerous if one wasn't careful.

Izuku gave a purring sound to convey that he was okay. Ace rolled her head at him and gave him a flat look.

"Just... Remembering, I guess." He wasn't sure if he'd spoken mostly in Japanese or in chirps, but it didn't really matter when the only person he could speak with was a velociraptor. Ace clicked her claw against the stones of the riverbank. "Remembering nest. My home nest. I left pack behind when I was sent here... I wonder if they miss me."

Would he consider Kacchan pack? Probably not. Pack hunted together and helped each other survive. Sure, pack could sometimes bully one another, but that was usually for nesting space or first dibs on food. It wasn't because one was born weaker than the other. If a weak hatchling was born or malformed, they were either killed or run out. If pack became weakened or injured, they were left behind, like Ace was by her pack.

He supposed that's why they connected so well. They were alike. Izuku was a runt, who had been run out by those who were supposed to be his pack—the other children—and Ace was abandoned when she got hurt.

Izuku's hand gently traced the deep scar in Ace's left hip—an injury that'd nearly been her death, because she couldn't run or move.

Izuku's breath caught in his throat. He'd heard the raptors from Red's pack kicking up a ruckus near the border of Pearl's territory—another raptor who held the largest pack on the island, with their numbers nearing 30.

He hadn't been sure why he felt the need to see what the commotion was about—it was likely a territorial dispute, and he would be an idiot to try to get in the middle of that. But what he saw was blood... a lot of blood.

And there was a dead raptor, too. He might be able to use the claws for something—he couldn't just rely on the fang of a spinosaurus forever. A backup weapon would be smart.

Never waste an opportunity, after all. He cautiously approached, but froze when the raptor hissed and glared at him. It was still alive.

For a moment, he feared the rest of the pack might still be in the area, but... no, they had abandoned this one. She was hurt. A deep gash on her hindquarters assured that she couldn't even stand.

The kind thing would be to put her out of her misery rather than let her starve to death or leave her to the mercy of the scavengers. But there was something about the look in her eye.

Raptors were intelligent. He'd figured that out ages ago. But never had he seen such emotions in one before. Her eyes held so many familiar emotions. Loneliness, bitterness, self-hatred, understanding, betrayal... most of all, there was an aching shadow of resignation. She held his gaze for what felt like an eternity before she let her head fall to the grass with a quiet thump.

She was giving up. She was letting him kill her. She was...

Just like him. Like how he used to be with Bakugo and the bullying. Resigned to what she had decided was her lot in life.

He felt his resolve harden as he approached, pulling out his precious few medical supplies from his backpack. The bag wouldn't last long, now. It was barely holding together as it was—stitched together with bits of leather he'd managed to make from the hides of some carcasses he'd managed to scavenge—or the exceedingly rare kill he'd managed to make.

This would use up the last bit of first-aid supplies he'd made last. Somehow, he didn't really mind using it on a creature that would likely eat him the moment she was well enough to do so.

She cracked open an eye when she saw him heading for her wound. A low hiss made him freeze, and he couldn't help but feel like she was annoyed.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." He assured her, voice cracking from disuse. How long had it been since he'd spoken aloud? His old muttering habit had been forcefully broken in the face of the dangers of this new land he'd found himself in, and he had no reason to speak. In fact, he had every reason to remain as silent as possible.

It seemed the raptor wasn't used to his voice either, because she jolted a little. He gently placed a hand on her, trying to convey that he wasn't here to cause harm. She held his gaze—confusion, uncertainty, fear... after a moment, it gave way to a gentle and brittle trust.

He smiled, careful not to show his teeth—teeth were threatening in this world, and he was trying to convey the opposite of that.

He was mildly shaken when she didn't snap at him even once. She twitched several times, like she wanted to, but even his messy stitches—using up the last of his thread—didn't cause the predator to lash out.

He'd finished after a careful and tense few hours. It was only the low growl of the raptor that he'd forcefully placed under his care that alerted him to another presence.

He shook lightly when the first few compsognathus stepped out of the underbrush. He eyed the bushes. There was no doubt that more were there. The compies were notorious for scavenging in packs, and despite the fact that they were relatively harmless alone, together they could easily kill him... or the currently immobile raptor behind him.

Izuku grit his teeth and pulled out his spinosaurus blade. He wasn't going to let this raptor die. He would protect her. Heroes... villains... none of that mattered anymore. But he'd be damned if he let this life end when he could protect her.

It'd been going well at first, he'd managed to kill one or two of them swiftly with a kick and a well-aimed slice of his knife, causing many of them to back off warily. But eventually they grew bolder and started to attack together. Izuku growled when he felt sharp teeth dig into his leg, and kicked hard, foolishly opening himself to another attack.

Teeth dug into his flesh and he slashed the blade. It was then that he saw the dilophosaurus stalk out of the underbrush. The milky white eyes of the highly venomous predator struck fear into his very soul. One bite could bring down a baby triceratops, and even scratches from the claws could lead to deadly infections. How could Izuku survive this when he couldn't run away?

He stood before the raptor. He'd made his decision—he was going to stick with it. Before either of them could make a move, the dilophosaurus cried out in agony. It took Izuku a moment to realize that the raptor had climbed to her feet and defended Izuku.

She protected him, just as he had been protecting her all night. She bit down hard and shook her head as the other predator struggled beneath her grasp. Izuku rushed in, jamming the blade into the underside of the venomous predator's neck. The raptor released it when it fell limp.

"Thanks." Izuku shot the raptor a grin.

She chirped in response, and Izuku wondered if raptors actually had a language of their own. Could he learn it? Mimic it?

Either way, he had a feeling that he'd be seeing a lot more of this green-striped raptor.

He blinked a bit when Ace butted her head against him. "I'm good." He scratched her under her chin, just how she liked it. "Come on, Ace. Let's go home."