I love cozy games, but I think my definition of a “cozy game” is somewhat different from the Steam tags, YouTube videos, and blogs I occasionally follow. When I search for cozy games, I get Animal Crossing or Stardew Valley. But what I’m looking for though are games like Vintage Story, Subnautica, or Valheim.

Here’s the thing about being human: I love feeling cozy. Being inside with a cup of tea during the rain. Huddling by a warm campfire on a frigid night. There’s a reason I spent much of my childhood building pillow forts out of every material available, to the annoyance of parents and grandparents, naturally.

Animal Crossing does an incredible job plopping you on an island to live out your village building fantasies. Stardew Valley puts you in the middle of a cozy town, oozing with personality, with many relaxing activities to accomplish. Spiritfarer is all about vibes, friendships, and being nice to dead people. These games are relaxing and slow paced (unless you’re on of the amazing weirdos speedrunning Stardew Valley in a little over 2 hours). But I don’t find them invoking that feeling of coziness.

A submerged base module in Subnautica, nestled against a rocky cliff. Nothing cozier than getting back to your Subnautica base. Here’s one of mine.

Let’s look at one of my favorite cozy titles: Subnautica. Subnautica’s world is cold, unwelcoming, and the deeper in the ocean you go - the darker and colder it gets. You feel the crushing pressure of the deep ocean, the primal fear of the unknown lurking in the abyss. You have to manage oxygen, nutrition, hydration… Playing Subnautica can be stressful.

And then, after a long trek (swim?), you make your way into your home base: a maze of lovingly crafted tubes and chambers you’ve slowly built up throughout the game. It feels safe. Even the first little base you build - just a cramped little tube with a fabricator, a hatch, and a solar panel bolted on top - feels like your own, a safe space to escape the terror of the unknown. No one will get to you in this little tube, and the sound of the hatch sealing behind you, followed by the familiar “Welcome aboard captain. All systems online.” is the coziest sound in the world.

And the coziness wouldn’t have been there without the oppressive terror of the cold vast ocean and the anxiety inducing roar of leviathans. It’s why getting to a your cabin after a near-death encounter in The Long Dark feels so rewarding. This feeling of coziness is born out of contrast.

Valheim shows a character approaching a player-built house and fence under a misty, orange sunset. Getting back home right before dark after a long dangerous trek in Valheim is the pinnacle of coziness.

Same goes for Valheim, another cozy favorite of mine. Valheim world doesn’t want you there. Freezing rains sap stamina, angry Greydwarfs swarm provoked by the sound of your mining pick, and trolls threaten to follow you back to your lovingly built home and smash it to splinters. And then you get to your hearth, cook some meals by the fire, and receive the welcome “You feel rested” message.

Valheim primes you to feel extra cozy when you get back to your base. “Rested” buff increases, health and stamina regeneration, and buffs the XP gains. Home is where you make meals - the primary means of progression for keeping your health and stamina high - as you keep up with increasingly dangerous threats of the world. Seeing the message is a tangible sigh of relief: you feel your strength returning faster, your spirit mending, all because you’re under a thatched roof, making a meal, while a storm is raging outside.

Use of game mechanics to reward players for using their shelter is a really powerful tool. It’s why you want to get your character to a tavern before logging out in World of Warcraft or occasionally get some shuteye in Skyrim.

Vintage Story shows a small, player-built settlement with a house and a garden in a desolate winter landscape. Vintage Story: There’s a cellar underground, filled with preserves, cured meats, grains, and vegetables. That cellar is my happy place.

Another game with an openly hostile world is Vintage Story. It’s a game heavily inspired by Minecraft (and I believe it started as a Minecraft mod), which focuses on survival realism and slower progression. Here you get more a slow-burn hostility. It isn’t really that dangerous to be outside, but a harsh winter will come, and occasional temporal storms present a real danger if you’re out and about at the wrong time. The nights are truly dark and dangerous too, emphasizing the need to make your way home by nightfall.

I feel cozy methodically stocking my cellar with preserved food for the winter. There’s magic to setting up my first pit kiln, as it blazes through the night and turns clay into much needed pottery. It feels safe to seal the door to your home during a temporal storm, knowing you’re safe from the drifters clawing at your door.

There’s a feeling of deep satisfaction as you survive your first winter: looking at the stored food in the cellar, admiring your modest, but secure home. You’ve beaten back the harshness of the world through foresight and hard work. It’s a cozy place because of hours and love and planning you put into it, despite the adversity of the world around you.

I think the games that evoke the most powerful sense of coziness are the games that force you to carve it out of the harsh, indifferent, or even actively hostile world. A fantasy of a survivor who creates a warm, safe place to call home.

I’m always on the lookout for cozy hostile game recommendations: what other games fit the hostile cozy game mold? Where have you found the most meaningful shelter? What’s the coziest moment you’ve experienced in a terrifying game?