I produce many offspring, although all are hidden from view.
Unless we wrestle, you tug, I break, and then you will see a few.
At first sight they seem strangely clear, although very deep red.
In Turkey I've seen people throw my friends to the ground,
Although I understand, it is always meant as good-will.
But also, I have a dark side
That some people do know
With one of my stones you will never leave.
No matter how hard you believe.
What am I?