Lazy Sketches to Oil Paintings

Over the past year or so I've been struggling my way back into the traditional realm after learning nearly everything I know about painting with digital media. But of course my dumb ass decides to delve straight into oils without knowing jack squat about them, and also being pretty mediocre with acrylics and pretty much every other kind of paint on the planet, but yo sometimes you just gotta jump head first and see what happens
It took me a couple months to find my footing, and surprisingly it was easier to do once I threw all my technical skills out the window and channeled the power of bogus. So I'm pretty sure my technique would make anybody who knows what they're doing cringe, but hey, it's fun stuff :^)
Here's one of my first finished oil paintings, from January or so

Lo and behold, 'Storytime'! I modeled this painting after a dumb little sketch I made in my sketchbook, the idea was that there's this fat, slow, flightless dragon who really couldn't do much harm even if he wanted to, and there's not much of a point in slaying him, so a knight hits him up with a storybook every now and then. I like to imagine this loveable slimey fatass slinking out from the shadows and flopping down for a nice little reading of the Hobbit, where the knight just can't get past the part about Smaug because the dragon makes him repeat it over and over again.
Here was the doodle!

Sometimes I like to come up with the story as I draw, which I why I love drawing so much; you never know what wild story is going to come out of even the simplest doodle :^)
I call this one 'Thy Will Be Done',

...Aaand now I'll explain why! So when I had my book out to do some sketching, bits and pieces from previous readings of the Divine Comedy and Paradise lost were roaming about my head, so this happened:

Here we've got our neo-rebel, I call him, because he decided far after the fall of Lucifer that his morals align more closer with his than of Heaven's. But instead of leaving, he tried to re-assert the word of Lucifer, but the seraphim were having none of that.
Exiled and pissed off, he decided to use his newfound moral freedom -like a proper angel would- to terrorize the Church via a young boy he possessed. Graced with the might of a bent and vindictive angel, the boy and his ethereal companion rend through the 16th century English aristocracy with bloody ferocity.